After saluting the city of acrobats and fortune-tellers, we entered the noxious defiles of a celebrated fabourg famed for leather and science. At last we found shelter in a wretched inn crowded with Savoyards with their marmots, Italians with their monkeys, Avergnats with their dogs, Parisians with their white mice, harpers with their stringless harps, and husky-voiced songsters. My master had with him six francs, the only barrier between us and suicide. The inn called The Mercy is one of these philanthropic establishments where one may sleep for a penny a night, and enjoy a meal for fourpence halfpenny. It also boasts a stable, where all sorts of animals may be lodged promiscuously. My master naturally placed me there. Marmus, such was my master’s name, could not avoid contemplating the throng of depraved beasts to which I was added. A monkey in marquis furbelows, plumed head-dress, and gold waistband; quick as gunpowder, was flirting with a military hero of popular burlesque; an old rabbit, well up in his exercises; an intelligent poodle of modern dramatic fame spoke of the capriciousness of the public to an old ape seated on his troubadour’s hat; a group of grey mice were admiring a cat taught to respect canaries, and engaged in conversation with a marmot. “Confound these creatures!” exclaimed my master; “I thought I had discovered a new science, that of comparing instincts, now I am cruelly undeceived by this stableful of beasts, who are all of them the same as men!” “Ah, sir,” said a shaggy-looking young man, “you desire to gain a reputation for learning, and yet you pause at trifles. Know, ambitious one, that in order to succeed you must allow your external appearance to indicate the height of your aspirations. The traveller who seeks to {141} make his way into a _terra incognita_ must not encumber himself with baggage. Our great explorers were men who wore an expression of resolute earnestness, and carried an umbrella and a tooth-pick. They penetrated to the heart of savagedom, and brought back to civilisation a wayworn exterior and the power of discoursing on the perils of their journeys.” “To what great genius have I the honour of speaking?” “A poor fellow who has tried everything, and lost everything except his enormous appetite, and who, while waiting for something to turn up, lives by selling newspapers, and lodges here. Who are you, pray?” “A resigned elementary teacher, who naturally does not know much, but who has asked himself this question, ‘Why is it that animals possess _à priori_ the special science of their lives called instinct, while man learns nothing without extraordinary toil?’ ” “Because science is in its infancy!” exclaimed the adventurer. “Have you ever studied ‘Puss in Boots’?” “I used to tell it to my pupils when they had been good.”