We were in a shop in Lucerne, and father wanted to
know the price of something, so he held it up before a little dapper man
with blue eyes and yellow hair, and said, 'Com-bi-on'--that's the way he
pronounced it--'com-bi-on;' but the man didn't com-bi-on worth a cent,
and only stared at him as if he thought him a lunatic. Then father tried
again, and yelled as loud as he could, '_Pree--pree!_ how much-ee,
much-ee?' Then there was a glimmer of a smile on the man's face, and
when father, wholly out of patience, roared out, 'Damnation, are you a
fool?' he replied, 'No, but I'm a Yankee like yourself, and the price of
the carving is twenty-five francs;' and, sure enough, he was a chap from
Maine. After that father always asked them first if they
_parlez-vous-ed_ English. Mother got on better, because she knew more of
the language, and always gave a twist to the words which made them sound
Frenchy; but she was afraid to talk much, for fear she'd make a mistake
and Miss Grundy would laugh at her. She is awfully afraid of Miss
Grundy, especially if the _genus homo_ happens to be English.
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