Part 41 (1/2)

”_Allons donc_! I know, then, which of us two will have most of the pleasure to-day,” I reply, laughing. ”But how about the expense?”

To which Muller, with a n.o.ble recklessness, answers:--

”Oh, hang the expense! Here, boatman! a boat _a quatre rames_, and some fis.h.i.+ng-tackle--by the hour.”

Now it was undoubtedly a fine sentiment this of Muller's, and had we but fetched my two Napoleons before starting, I should have applauded it to the echo; but when I considered that something very nearly approaching to a franc had already filtered out of our pockets in pa.s.sing through the fair, and that the hour of dinner was looming somewhat indefinitely in the distance, I confess that my soul became disquieted within me.

”Don't forget, for heaven's sake,” I said, ”that we must keep something for dinner!”

”My dear fellow,” he replied, ”I have already a tremendous appet.i.te for dinner--that _is_ something.”

After this, I resigned myself to whatever might happen.

We then rowed up the river for about a mile beyond Courbevoie. moored our boat to a friendly willow, put our fis.h.i.+ng-tackle together, and composed ourselves for the gentle excitement that waits upon the gudgeon and the minnow.

”I haven't yet had a single nibble,” said Muller, when we had been sitting to our work for something less than ten minutes.

”Hus.h.!.+” I said. ”You mustn't speak, you know.”

”True--I had forgotten. I'll sing instead. Fishes, I have been told, are fond of music.

'Fanfan, je vous aimerais bien; Contre vous je n'ai nul caprice; Vous etes gentil, j'en convien....'”

”Come, now!” I exclaimed pettishly, ”this is really too bad. I had a bite--a most decided bite--and if you had only kept quiet”....

”Nonsense, my dear fellow! I tell you again--and I have it on the best authority--fishes like music. Did you never hear of Arion! Have you forgotten about the Syrens? Believe me, your gudgeon nibbled because I sang him to the surface--just as the snakes come out for the song of the snake-charmer. I'll try again!”

And with this he began:--

”Jeannette est une brune Qui demeure a Pantin, Ou toute sa fortune Est un pet.i.t jardin!”

”Well, if you go on like that, all I have to say is, that not a fish will come within half a mile of our bait,” said I, with tranquil despair.

”Alas! _mon cher_, I am grieved to observe in your otherwise estimable character, a melancholy want of faith,” replied Muller ”Without faith, what is friends.h.i.+p? What is angling? What is matrimony? Now, I tell you that with regard to the finny tribe, the more I charm them, the more enthusiastically they will flock to be caught. We shall have a miraculous draught in a few minutes, if you are but patient.”

And then he began again:--

”Mimi Pinson est une blonde, Une blonde que l'on connait.

Elle n'a qu'une robe au monde, Landerirette!

Et qu'un bonnet.”

I laid aside my rod, folded my arms, and when he had done, applauded ironically.

”Very good,” I said. ”I understand the situation. We are here, at some--indeed, I may say, considering the state of our exchequer, at a considerable mutual expense; not to catch fish, but to afford Herr Muller an opportunity of exercising his extensive memory, and his limited baritone voice. The entertainment is not without its _agrements_, but I find it dear at the price.”

”_Tiens_, Arbuthnot! let us fish seriously. I promise not to open my lips again till you have caught something.”

”Then, seriously, I believe you would have to be silent the whole night, and all I should catch would be the rheumatism. I am the worst angler in the world, and the most unlucky.”

”Really and truly?”