Jim, who was a _matter-of-fact man_, more than one of fancy and imagination, rather sided with _Bobasheela_, and, turning to his round numbers last added to his book, of "9000 illegitimate children born in Paris in the last year," asked his friend if he could read it, to which he replied "Yes." "Well," said Jim, in broad English, "some _fish_ there, I guess, ha? I no like em Frenchwomen--I no like em: no good! I no like em so many children, no fader!" We all saw by Jim's eye, and by the agitation commencing, that he had some ideas that were coming out, and at the instant he was turning over on to his back, and drawing up his knees, and evidently keeping his eyes fixed on some object on the ceiling of the room, not to lose the chain of his thoughts, and he continued (not in English, for he spoke more easily in his own language), "I do not like the Frenchwomen. I did not like them at first, when I saw them leading so many dogs. I thought then that they had more dogs than children, but I think otherwise now. We believe that those women, who we have seen leading their dogs around with strings, have put their children away to be raised in the great house of the Government, and they get these little dogs to fill their places, and to suck their breasts when they are full of milk." "Hut--tut--tut!" said Melody, "you ill-mannerly fellow! what are you about? You will blow us all up here, Jim, if you utter such sentiments as those. I think the French ladies the finest in the world except the Americans, and if they heard such ideas as those, advanced by us, they would soon drive us out of Paris." "Yes," said Jim (in English again), "yes, I know--I know you like em--may be very good, but you see I no like em!" In his decided dislike, Jim's excitement was too great for his ideas to flow smoothly any further, and Mr. Melody not disposed to push the argument, the subject was dropped, and preparations made for the day exhibition, the hour for which was at hand. CHAPTER XXVII.