Harper's New Monthly Magazine, No. XXVI, July 1852, Vol. VVarious
History
Harper's New Monthly Magazine, No. XXVI, July 1852, Vol. V
Various
American literature -- Periodicals; Civilization -- Periodicals; Culture -- Periodicals
No, no, ex-brave; never--ancient grenadier! _Your_ bottle last time;
_my_ bottle this. Behold it! Toast away! The French Army!--the great
Napoleon!--the present company! the croupier! the honest croupier's
wife and daughters--if he has any! the Ladies generally! Every body in
the world!
By the time the second bottle of champagne was emptied, I felt as if I
had been drinking liquid fire--my brain seemed all a flame. No excess
in wine had ever had this effect on me before in my life. Was it the
result of a stimulant acting upon my system when I was in a
highly-excited state? Was my stomach in a particularly disordered
condition? Or was the champagne particularly strong?
"Ex-brave of the French Army!" cried I, in a mad state of
exhilaration. "_I_ am on fire! how are _you_? You have set me on fire!
Do you hear; my hero of Austerlitz? Let us have a third bottle of
champagne to put the flame out!" The old soldier wagged his head,
rolled his goggle-eyes, until I expected to see them slip out of their
sockets; placed his dirty forefinger by the side of his broken nose;
solemnly ejaculated "Coffee!" and immediately ran off into an inner
room.
The word pronounced by the eccentric veteran, seemed to have a magical
effect on the rest of the company present. With one accord they all
rose to depart. Probably they had expected to profit by my
intoxication; but finding that my new friend was benevolently bent on
preventing me from getting dead drunk, had now abandoned all hope of
thriving pleasantly on my winnings. Whatever their motive might be, at
any rate they went away in a body. When the old soldier returned, and
sat down again opposite to me at the table, we had the room to
ourselves. I could see the croupier, in a sort of vestibule which
opened out of it, eating his supper in solitude. The silence was now
deeper than ever.
A sudden change, too, had come over the "ex-brave." He assumed a
portentously solemn look; and when he spoke to me again, his speech
was ornamented by no oaths, enforced by no finger-snapping, enlivened
by no apostrophes, or exclamations.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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