Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 67, Number 414, April, 1850Various
History
Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 67, Number 414, April, 1850
Various
England -- Periodicals; Scotland -- Periodicals
The packing was now completed with all expedition. By noon we got
fairly off; and a march, not quite so short as we expected, brought us
to our resting-place for the night.
CHAPTER XIV.
I question if the Gascon character has been duly appreciated. A Gascon
is a braggadocio; so we settle it. Now the Gascons are great in this
line, it's undeniable. But that which really distinguishes a Gascon,
is grandiloquence on all subjects. Whatever the topic of conversation,
his style is exaggerated. Tell a Gascon any extraordinary fact, he
instantly caps it--tells you something more extraordinary of the same
kind. If he happens to be speaking of himself, he still employs the
same style of amplification, but only as he would in discussing any
subject besides. He possesses also, in an eminent degree, that--(what?
frankness, shall I call it?)--at any rate, that peculiar quality,
which at once makes you feel as much at ease with him as with an
old acquaintance. All the French have this, but the Gascon has it
pre-eminently.
My billet for the night was at a seedsman's. Five minutes after my
arrival I felt domesticated. He puzzled me not a little though, by
eagerly inquiring whether I had ever met in England with a plant called
Chou d'Yorck. Its fame had reached him, but the long war had prevented
his obtaining a sample. He rejoiced in the prospect of a peace, which
would enable him to obtain some Chou d'Yorck. In form he was stiff
and stumpy, but in speech and manner lively. To assist him in his
shop, he had a youth--age eighteen or nineteen--whom he treated with
considerable hauteur. My landlord, his assistant, and myself, all three
took our evening meal together; but the youth was not permitted to
sit down. Standing near his master, like Corporal Trim, with one foot
before the other in an attitude, his head very upright, and his chest
projected, he grasped in one hand a hunch of bread and a modicum of
sausage, while the other flourished a pocket-knife. His master abruptly
handed him a tumbler of wine, without asking him when he would have it;
and he forthwith tossed it off, and set down the glass, as if so much
and no more was his allowance.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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