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Stowe, Harriet Beecher, 1811-1896

"Sunny Memories of Foreign Lands, Volume 2"

" But it was like pulling the string of a
shower bath. Delighted at my correct sentence, and supposing me _au
fait_, they poured upon me such a deluge of French that I held my
breath in dismay. Considering, however, that nothing is to be gained
by half-way measures, I resolved upon a desperate game. Launching in,
I talked away right and left, up hill and down,--jumping over genders,
cases, nouns, and adjectives, floundering through swamps and morasses,
in a perfect steeple chase of words. Thanks to the proverbial
politeness of my friends, I came off covered with glory; the more
mistakes I made the more complacent they grew.
Nothing can surpass the ease, facility, and genial freedom of these
_soirees_. Conceive of our excellent professor of Arabic and
Sanscrit, Count M. fairly cornered by three wicked fairies, and
laughing at their stories and swift witticisms till the tears roll
down his cheeks. Behold yonder tall and scarred veteran, an old
soldier of Napoleon, capitulating now before the witchery of genius
and wit. Here the noble Russian exile forgets his sorrows in those
smiles that, unlike the aurora, warm while they dazzle.


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