REMARKABLE STORY OF A PAIR OF TROUSERS.

Thames Guardian and Mining Record, Volume I, Issue 134, 14 March 1872, Page 3

REMARKABLE STORY OF A PAIR OF TROUSERS.

A Paris correspondent relates the following amusing story of a journalist:—When a young man he was sent to Borne to record some passing event as a special correspondent. He had scarcely reached the Eternal City when lie fell into the arms of an old friend, who at once took him and introduced him to a certain charming Italian princess. She was that night giving a grand hall at her palace. She could only give him a single word and an invitation. Delighted at so quickly getting amongst the best Bomau society, he was not a little depressed at being

1 asked by his friends if lie had the under- ; garment, tight-fitting black pantaloons—i worn in evening dress in Italy. He had only the ordinary evening dress of an ■ English or French gentleman. But though time pressed, he found a tailor who, for a consideration, transformed his French I garment into the conventional Italian ' shape. At ten at night it was brought I to his hotel, and rapidly arraying himself our young Frenchman went to the ball. He was introduced to pleasant paitners. The music was delightful. In the second waltz, however, he felt as if seventeen thousand demons wore tearing the calves of his legs. In all modesty be it said that the Roman tailor had left multitudinous living things in the inner seams, and without taking time to crush them had turned the pantaloons right side out. The unhappy Frenchman could stand it no longer. He formed a plan, and when the next fast dance commenced stole out on the balcony through one of the curtained windows, and moving to (lie end suddenly whipped of the unmentionables, turned them inside out, and began to beat them against the marble balustrade. Unfortunately, in his haste and confusion, lie displayed too much energy. The garment of torture escaped his hand and went flying into the street. Two young pifeeari thought it a gift thrown them from an upper window, seized it, and heedlass of the Frenchman’s violent pautoininc—he was afraid to speak—made off with the luckless article of clothing. What was to bo done ? The situation was frightful. Even the dance was now over, and cavaliers were, beginning to lead their partners out into the fresh air of the balcony. He looked up; it was evident the sky could not be reached. Ho looked down ; nothing could save him if lie jumped from such a height. How on earth was he to enter at the window and cross that room full of elegantly dressed people to the door at the other side ? And yet it must he done. Our agile Frenchman came to one of the windows, stooped down to an almost sitting position, pulled liis inner garment over his knees, and amid little screams from the ladies and shouts of laughter from the men, went hopping like a frog across the room. He almost Hew down the stairs, and saved himself from the astonish'd servants by a rush through the hall. It is needless to say he left Rome the next morning, and has never since been seen in the Eternal City. —Newcastle -on - Tyne Chronicle.