THE BENIGHTED FOREIGNER.

Daily Telegraph (Napier), Issue 3113, 20 June 1881, Page 4

THE BENIGHTED FOREIGNER.

I am what you call a Benighted Foreigner. I am blighted as well as benighted, but that is my affair. Zat for your pig-beast couutry ! (N.B. — Here the benighted foreigner is supposed to be snapping his fingers at dear old like anything.) Zat for your House Parliament. Zat for your Lor' Maire ! Vat'en ! Fichtre ! 1 come from La Belle France. You may have seen that so far. The gentleman who takes this down says you might know me a mile off. I hope he is respectful. I somehow have my doubts. I am a native of the only city in the world worth living in. I am a member of the only great and grand nation—the one that very nearly beat the Prussians. Je suis Francais. I wish it to be clearly and distinctly imderstood, that I only came over here to this pig-beast country to make money. As a country, nothing could be duller or more dreadful. Mon dieu! Your fogs! Your shockings !! Your Sundays!!', Your mais enfin, toute la boutique ! A friend said to me : " You are restaurateur! You are, indeed, bad restaurateur, and you have restored in Paris. You have failed six times. Go to London and you will inako fortune." I said, " I will." I meant I will go. I also thought I would make fortune. Well, I have not. Bigre! Non dune pipe. I am a blighted, benighted foreigner. V'la tout. There is one place only in your fog-pig-beast London, in which it is possible for a native of La Belle France to eat and drink and breathe a breath of air. That is le quartier de Less-cess-et-aire Squar ; It was there that I installed myself. It was there in the Rue Ragbag, that I took the Cafe Keg-meg of a compatriot returning to his native land, and it was there that I instituted my " Diner Parisien" kl schelling 6 pence comprenant potage, poisson, two plates of meat, with option of choice, cheese and dessert, and half a bottle of sound Bordeaux. Bread at discretion. My friends said, " You cannot doit." I said, " We will see." I did not do it, but I tried. For the first week I devote myself to studying the characteristics of the John Bull in the following manner. I take breakfast at the Cafe Keg-meg, and play a few gameß of dominoes with my compatriot till noon, I then stroll round the Squar, and have a game of billiards at tho Cafe Cornichon with another compatriot, and read the Rappel and Figaro until dinnertime. I then dine at the Cafe Keg-meg, and have my coffee and my cigars, After this 1 look in at the Cafe Macaire, and talk politics with some other compatriots till bed-time. Dltes que je ne connais pas votre cochon de pays. Hapristi! The day before I open the " Saloon of Parisian Dinners," I announce my intentions upon a paper wafered upon the exterior of the premises. A crowd gather round, Two nurse-maids, a little girl with

a hoop, and one small boy. It is, I presume, the small boy, who, when no one is looking, tore down my affiche. Upon tho day of the opening, I assume the white cap of office, the white jacket, and the white apron. lam the chef. My assistants, three in number, stand respectively on the right, on the left, and behind me, waiting until the moment shall arrive when their services will be required. Madame, magnificently apparelled, sits behind the counter in the saloon upstairs. The waiters, two in number, form groups at either end of the appartement. Nobody whatever honours the Diners Parisiens with their patronage, tho first day.

Upon the second day, the preparations remain as they -were. A little of the fish lias gone off (it is warm ■weather), otherwise we were fully stocked. An Englishman comes this day. We see him up the area reading the bill. We observe him hesitate. We wait anxiously. He makes his mind up, and walks in. I do not stint that Englishman's allowance, He says there was too little soup. I give him more. He tells the waiter that the fish was " good enough as far as it went." When asked to take his choice of the two dishes, he choses both. We set the Gruyere cheese before him, and he makes a meal.off it. He eats half a yard of bread, and forgets to fee the waiter. No one else comes that day. Next day the Englishman returns. Also three friends. I suggest that they shall dine ala carte. They prefer the I schelling 6 pence. They clear all up, and eat two yards and eight inches of bread among the four. When they hare gone I shed tears. I see then that I shall not make a fortune by my Diners Parisiens. Upon the third day, just before the hour when diner should begin, Igo to the public house for a glass of brandy to give me courage. In the next bar are the four Englishmen, and I listen to their talk. " Are you peckish ?" " I have not tasted food to-day." "■"•■^^ "We will surprise Mounseer thisj'afternoon." " Have some more gin and bitters." I drink my brandy and run back. In three minutes the door is locked and the shutters closed for ever. They tell me those four Englishmen have often wondered why I did not carry on the business a little longer. Saccrr'bleu!