EDITOR'S WALLET. Saved by the "Marseillaise."

Otago Witness, Issue 2056, 20 July 1893, Page 49

EDITOR'S WALLET.

Saved by the "Marseillaise."

The French General de Ricard relates in his memoirs how he publicly announced his patriotic sentiments when he was a child travelling with a nurse. His father, who was a Royalist, had been a naval officer at the port of Toulon, and after Toulon had yielded to the Republican army he had emigrated to Spain. After passing some months in Spain, Monsieur de Ricard ventured to return to France with his wife and their little son and a Spanish friend. Political feeling was still strong in the country, and Royalist emigrants were not well treated, were not even out of danger of imprisonment. The Ricard party took' great precautions to conceal the fact that they were returning emigrants ; but M. de Ricard was impulsive, and could hardly refrain from sometimes joining in the vehement discussions that were carried on, and expressing his opinions.

One day the siege of Toulon was spoken of. A traveller dining at the table had been in the Republican army at the siege, «and boasted of ransacking several houses himself.

" I destroyed everything in the house of the official de Ricard," he said. " I threw his glassware out of the windows, broke the furniture, and burned all the house linen, , It was magnificent ! If that emigrant had ever gone back to his home how delighted he must have been ! "

M. de Ricard declared that such conduct was despicable. A violent discussion', began. Madame <te Ricard and the Spaniard were

terribly frightened. They feared that this wad not a coincidence, but a trap of an agent of the police.

At that moment, as if by some happy inspiration, the little de Ricard seized bis glass and shotted s

" To the health of the Republic, one and undivided!"

Then he jumped on a chair and sang at the top of his voice the opening line of the " Mar' seillaise."

Everyone joined in the national martial song, and no one suspected that the father of such a Republican small boy could be a Royalist.

"A Regular Pair~of Blooming Lilies.'

It will be within the memory of such as care for these things that, after the last great battle which brought the fistic historyof England to a glorious close, Tom Sayers andChe Benicia Boy, his late opponent, enlißted with Messrs Homes and dishing, proprietors of a oircus in those days, and travelled the country, sparring nightly in amity together.

My father, who had naturally about as much sympathy with the prize ring as with the atrocities of the King of Dahomey, was nevertheless fired with admiration* for the hero of Farnborough, and must needs go to see him. He astonished everybody who knew him by showing his silver head and whiskers in the bar parlour of the hotel at which Mr Sayers was quartered for the night. I suppose that the worshippers at Tom's shrine were of another sort as a rule ; bub he was evidently and mightily impressed by the old gentleman's interest in his career. He told a story which, in its main lines, I remember as well as if I had heard it yesterday, though I rack my brains in vain for the names of the two people concerned in it.

" I suppose, sir," said Tom, "as you never heard how I come to fight "—let me call him Jones.

No, my father never had heard.

" Well, it was like this. Lord comes to me a week or two .before the Derby, and, ' Tom,' he says, ' I've got a notion. You and me,' he says, ' is goin' down to the Derby together,' he says. ' I've got a pair of snow-white mokes,' he says, ' and I've bought a coster's shallow. I'm having it painted white and picked out in gold,' he says, ' and it's going to be upholstered in white satin.- Now you and me, Tom,' says his lordship— 'you and me's going to get up in white shoes, white kickseys, white westcuts, white hats, white coats, white ties, and white gloves,' he says. * We'll go down a reg'lar pair of bloomin' lilies ! ' Well, we did, and it was agreed to be the best turn-out of the day. We was walkin' in the ring when up comes Jones, and, without with your leave or by your leave, he hits me on the nose. Well, I was that soft and out of condition the clarrit was all over me in no time. I was goin' for Jones like a shot ; bub his lordship he stops me and he says, < Tom,' he says, ' you shall fight him,' he says, ' for £200.' I did, and you may believe as I paid him out for that." We were greatly impressed with this narrative, and I have always thought the regular pair otf blooming lilies delicious. — David Christie Mubray, in the St. James's Gazette.