Mais le fourbe s'est converti, Biribi!
A la façon de Barbari, Mon ami!
Lass, le fils ainé de Satan
Nous met tous à raumône,
Il nous a pris tout notre argent
Et n'en rend à personne.
Mais le Régent, humain et bon,
La faridondaine! la faridondon!
Nous rendra ce qu'on nous a pris, Biribi!
A la façon de Barbari, Mon ami!
The following epigram is of the same date:
Lundi, j'achetai des actions;
Mardi, je gagnai des millions;
Mercredi, j'arrangeai mon ménage,
Jeudi, je pris un équipage,
Vendredi, je m'en fus au bal,
Et Samedi, à I'hôpital.
Among the caricatures that were abundantly published, and that shewed as plainly as graver matters, that the nation had awakened to a sense of its folly, was one, a fac-simile of which is preserved in the Mémoires de la Régence. It was thus described by its author: "The 'Goddess of Shares,' in her triumphal car, driven by the Goddess of Folly. Those who are drawing the car are impersonations of the Mississippi, with his wooden leg, the South Sea, the Bank of England, the Company of the West of Senegal, and of various assurances. Lest the car should not roll fast enough, the agents of these companies, known by their long fox-tails and their cunning looks, turn round the spokes of the wheels, upon which are marked the names of the several stocks and their value, sometimes high and sometimes low, according to the turns of the wheel. Upon the ground are the merchandise, day-books and ledgers of legitimate commerce, crushed under the chariot of Folly. Behind is an immense crowd of persons, of all ages, sexes, and conditions, clamoring after Fortune, and fighting with each other to get a portion of the shares which she distributes so bountifully among them. In the clouds sits a demon, blowing bubbles of soap, which are also the objects of the admiration and cupidity of the crowd, who jump upon one another's backs to reach them ere they burst. Bight in the pathway of the car, and blocking up the passage, stands a large building,
