“Billiards! the Prince de Talleyrand play at billiards! it could not be; he should have imagined that his lameness would have saved him from _that_. Yet so it was; the Prince de Talleyrand _did_ play at billiards; and, in spite of his lameness, was considered one of the most expert players of his day; and so the poor mayor sat the long evening through, discomfited and unhappy, with nothing to tell his wife, and nothing to report to the town council when next it should meet. The disappointment was almost too bitter to be borne. “Hope, however, did not desert him. He well knew that the prince and his noble guest could not play at billiards the whole night, so he sat awhile waiting with patience, until they should grow tired of the game, and return to the fireside. And they _did_ return as he had foreseen, and they _did_ seat themselves comfortably, one on each side of the chimney. ‘Now will they discuss their latest protocols,’ thought the little mayor, as he rubbed his hands in glee. No; the prince was in high spirits, for he had won at billiards. The count was in high spirits too, for he declared he had _let_ him win; and the whole conversation was engrossed by the discussion—eternal thrust and parry—attack and _repartee_—which had so worried the mayor at dinner, and of which he could not at all see the wit—not he. “‘At last he was growing quite beside himself, when the prince arose; which action was the signal that the _soirée_ was concluded, and that the different guests were free to retire. Yet he had not heard one single word of politics! What would he have to say at the _conseil_? What could he tell his wife? _She_ would greet him with reproaches on his return home, and would say that such introductions to the great were of little use, unless he knew better how to profit by them; for he felt that, were he to talk till doomsday, he never should be able to persuade her that he had heard not one word of politics. She would accuse him of having napped, as he always did, and always would do, despite her admonition. “Well; the guests all withdrew, our excellent mayor among the number; but, as he passed the screen down yonder at the door, upon turning back to take a wistful glance at the blazing hearth, he perceived the count reseat himself in the great arm-chair which he had quitted but for an instant, and the prince ensconced once more in the one he had occupied all the evening; he saw the latter draw forward a little _gueridon_ which stood near, place upon it a roll of papers which he took from his pocket, and pointing to them, he heard him say to the count—‘You see we have _besogne_ enough before us. I hope you are not sleepy?’