He has only two fears--those of starvation in
France, and a soldier's death in America.
The prospect of a debtor's prison at Clichy has long since ceased to be
a terror. There, he would be secure of sustenance and shelter, and of
these, at liberty, he is doubtful every day.
Still, with his threadbare coat, he haunts the Casino and the Valentino
of evenings; for some mistresses of a former day send him billets.
He lies in bed till long after noon, that he may not have pangs of
hunger; and has yet credit for a dinner at an obscure _cremery_. When
this last confidence shall have been forfeited, what must result to
Pisgah?
He is striving to anticipate the answer with this experiment at
roulette; for he has a "system" whereby it is possible to break any
gambling bank--Spa, Baden, Wisbaden or Homburg. The others have systems
also, from Auburn Risque to Simp, the only son of the richest widow in
Louisiana, who disbursed of old in Paris ten thousand dollars annually.
His house at Passy was a palace in miniature, and his favorite a tragedy
queen. She played at the Folies Dramatiques, and drove three horses of
afternoons upon the Champs Elysees. She had other engagements, of
course, when Mr. Lincoln's "paper blockade" stopped Master Simp's
remittances, and he passed her yesterday upon the Rue Rivoli, with the
Russian ambassador's footman at her back, but she only touched him with
her silks.
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