Little Mr Bouncer and His Friend Verdant Green/Chapter 27
CHAPTER XXVII.
LITTLE MR. BOUNCER DEPARTS FROM MOSSOO'S IN COMPANY WITH ALPHONSE.
URIOUSLY regarding the quaint-looking poodle, who answered to the name of "Alphonse," and who had trotted up to him with so much confident friendliness, Mr. Bouncer thought that, if he only knew enough of the French language, he would venture to make a bid for this funny specimen of the canine species—whose nature was so improved (?) by art—and would take it home with him as a present to his sister, and as a possible companion to Huz and Buz during the months of the Long Vacation.
He wondered what his own two dogs, with their sturdy English breed and manners, would have to say to such a funny little foreigner; and he thought that it might prove a great joke to introduce Alphonse to Huz and Buz. It appeared, moreover, that Alphonse was a poodle of intelligence as well as friendliness; for he sat up on his hind legs before Mr. Bouncer, wagged his tail, cocked his head knowingly on one side, and was evidently prepared, on the slightest invitation, to display all the tricks that he had acquired. But a few words from his master, informing Alphonse that he was a nuisance, a pig, and a camel for thus intruding himself upon a strange gentleman, had the immediate effect of depressing that sagacious animal's spirits, and bringing him once again to his normal position. So, Alphonse, resuming the use of his four legs, trotted round the counter to Madame, who talked to him in her native tongue.
Mr. Bouncer was very much struck with this circumstance. The poodle knew French; and he himself, was ignorant of that language! Was this to be accepted as a sarcasm on the curriculum of education that obtained at the schools and colleges of his native land? Mr. Bouncer merely gave this question a fleeting thought, and then dismissed it from his mind. Yet, the fact of the canine intelligence of Alphonse appeared to him to surpass the case of Sterne's Sentimental Traveller, who, on first landing on French ground, was so much astonished to find that even little common children could speak French. Albert Smith, too, in his "Overland Mail" entertainment, confessed that the same thought had passed through his own mind; and that he was unable to repress a feeling of surprise at hearing the peasant children fluently conversing in a language that we, in England, commonly associated with ideas of refinement and education. Such a circumstance is, indeed, a continued source of wonderment to the average British tourist.
But, to Mr. Bouncer's mind, the present instance was far more striking than the case of the travelled Briton who, for the first time, hears French prattled by illiterate children.
Here was a dog who could understand the language spoken by a Parisian, and who, in that respect, was in advance of Mr. Bouncer in intelligence. If he made a bid for Alphonse, should he be able to instruct that quaint-looking poodle in the English tongue, and to talk to him much in the same way that he spoke his mind, and gave his orders to Huz and Buz? Then it occurred to him, that his sister Fanny could speak French, and that she would be able, if needful, to address Alphonse in his native tongue. He determined, if it were possible, to purchase the poodle, and to take it home with him, as a present to his sister.
Monsieur Auguste removed the wrapper from Mr. Bouncer, and, by significant gestures, explained to him that the operation of haircutting was at an end, and bade him regard himself in the mirror that surmounted a small marble, set upon a gilt bracket. Mr. Bouncer, accordingly, laid down the unperused "Journal des Débats," and advanced to the mirror. There he was confronted by a reflection in which he had some little difficulty in recognizing himself. His hair had been cropped quite short all over the head, and parted, severely, in the middle, from the nape of his neck, straight over the crown, to the forehead. Monsieur stood behind him, evidently regarding his work with considerable satisfaction, and accepting it as a triumph of his art. He had transformed the appearance of the young gentleman "from de contree" to that of the civilised dweller in the gayest city in Europe. Monsieur was an artist, and not a barbarian like the barber of Barham.
The first thought of Mr. Bouncer, as he gazed upon the mirrored reflection, was, "Well! Mossoo has been and gone and done it, and no mistake! it is a regular Newgate crop!"—an idea that would have scandalised the professor of the scissors. It was, therefore, quite as well that the little gentleman kept his thoughts to him self. The deed was done, and he could not undo it. His hair was cropped; and not all the hair restoratives in Mossoo's shop could make it grow again, with a mustard-and-cress celerity, so that it might resume its usual length and appearance before he presented himself to the admiring gaze of his mother and sister. He must make the best of a bad bargain; so, by pantomimic action, he signified to Mossoo that he approved of his work, and he held out to him half a crown, in order that he might give him what change he thought proper.
Then he proceeded to the dog-dealing business that he had in view; and, in order to make himself more intelligible, framed his question in broken English—"How much you sell little dog, eh?" while Alphonse frisked about, and stood on his hind legs, and went through all his little performances, as though he would say—See what a clever dog I am, and don't insult my feelings by offering a small sum for a poodle of intellect.
It is not, by any means, an easy matter to negotiate a transaction, when the terms of the bargain have to be debated in broken English, greatly assisted, it is true, by expressive pantomime, but damped in intelligibility by a strong infusion of a language that is utterly unknown to one of the contracting parties. It was evident to Mr. Bouncer, that Madame was protesting to Auguste that she should be desolated by the loss of her cherished Alphonse; and it was equally evident to him—more, however, by gesture than by words—that Monsieur was expostulating with his charming Thérèse, and demonstrating to her, with voluble eloquence, that the young man from the country would amply compensate them for the loss of a troublesome pig of a dog. Eventually, Mossoo gained the day; gold triumphed over affection; and Mr. Bouncer was made aware that the small French poodle could become his property, in exchange for the sovereigns that he had laid upon the counter. Madame caught up Alphonse, and embraced him with effusion, while Mr. Bouncer discreetly turned his head and placed his hat upon it; whereupon, in consequence of the close cropping that he had undergone, it slipped down to his eyes.
Hallo! thought the little gentleman; Mossoo 's mowed me so short that my tile's too big for my head. It's a regular case of Box and Cox; and I might exclaim with Mr. Cox, the journeyman hatter—"I 've half a mind to register an oath that I 'll never have my hair cut again! I look as if I had just been cropped for the militia; and I was particularly emphatic in my instructions to the hairdresser only to cut the ends off. He must have thought I meant the other ends!" Mossoo has evidently cut the other ends; and, like Mr. Cox, my hat that fitted me quite tight before, now slips over my eyes; but, unlike Mr. Cox, I have not got two or three other hats; so, I shall have to buy a new one.
This incident diverted Madame's attention, and she released Alphonse in order to stuff some cotton-wool inside the lining of Mr. Bouncer's hat, who thought, as he put it on, "As Cox said, it wabbles about rather less, and I can manage to keep it on my head." Then he called a cab, and bade adieu to Madame, who delicately wiped away a tear, as she bestowed a parting kiss on the little white poodle. Mossoo politely handed Alphonse into the cab, and Mr. Bouncer drove back to the Old Hummums, to place his new purchase in safe quarters, apart from Huz and Buz.