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A Start in Life

Creator: Balzac, Honoré de, 1799-1850
Translator: Wormeley, Katharine Prescott, 1830-1908
Contributor: -
Editor: -


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"Mistigris, 'ars est celare bonum,'" said his master. "I thank you very much, monsieur," said the count to Mistigris's master, next to whom he now sat. The minister of State cast a sagacious glance round the interior of the coach, which greatly affronted both Oscar and Georges. "When persons want to be master of a coach, they should engage all the places," remarked Georges. Certain now of his incognito, the Comte de Serizy made no reply to this observation, but assumed the air of a good-natured bourgeois. "Suppose you were late, wouldn't you be glad that the coach waited for you?" said the farmer to the two young men. Pierrotin still looked up and down the street, whip in hand, apparently reluctant to mount to the hard seat where Mistigris was fidgeting. "If you expect some one else, I am not the last," said the count. "I agree to that reasoning," said Mistigris.
The Little Minister

CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. The Love-Light II. Runs Alongside the Making of a Minister III. The Night-Watchers IV. First Coming of the Egyptian Woman V. A Warlike Chapter, Culminating in the Flouting of the Minister by the Woman VI. In which the Soldiers Meet the Amazons of Thrums VII. Has the Folly of Looking into a Woman's Eyes by Way of Text VIII. 3 A.M.--Monstrous Audacity of the Woman IX. The Woman Considered in Absence--Adventures of a Military Cloak X. First Sermon against Women XI. Tells in a Whisper of Man's Fall during the Curling Season XII. Tragedy of a Mud House XIII. Second Coming of the Egyptian Woman XIV. The Minister Dances to the Woman's Piping XV. The Minister Bewitched--Second Sermon against Women XVI. Continued Misbehavior of the Egyptian Woman XVII. Intrusion of Haggart into these Pages against the Author's Wish
Georges and Oscar began to laugh impertinently. "The old fellow doesn't know much," whispered Georges to Oscar, who was delighted at this apparent union between himself and the object of his envy. "Parbleu!" cried Pierrotin, "I shouldn't be sorry for two more passengers." "I haven't paid; I'll get out," said Georges, alarmed. "What are you waiting for, Pierrotin?" asked Pere Leger. Whereupon Pierrotin shouted a certain "Hi!" in which Bichette and Rougeot recognized a definitive resolution, and they both sprang toward the rise of the faubourg at a pace which was soon to slacken. The count had a red face, of a burning red all over, on which were certain inflamed portions which his snow-white hair brought out into full relief. To any but heedless youths, this complexion would have revealed a constant inflammation of the blood, produced by incessant labor. These blotches and pimples so injured the naturally noble air of the count that careful examination was needed to find in his green-gray eyes the shrewdness of the magistrate, the wisdom of a statesman, and the knowledge of a legislator. His face was flat, and the nose seemed to have been depressed into it. The hat hid the grace