Three good giants

the name of Science, but all so much in favor of Panurge, with the little talking devil there is in French fingers, that Thaumastes became so confounded that he began to blow like a goose, and finally gave up the fight. But the Englishman, when he had been beaten, was honest enough to say so. Rising from his seat, while gallantly taking off his cap, he thanked Panurge in a low tone. Then, with a loud voice, he addressed the learned assembly : —

"My lords, at this time, I can surely say that you have an incomparable treasure in your presence. I refer to my Lord Pantagruel, whose fame alone brought me here from the other end of England. But you can better judge how learned the master must be since I find so much skill in his pupil, for I have always heard that the scholar is never above the master."

It is said that the Englishman, after his defeat, was well and honorably treated by Pantagruel. It was also whispered that Thaumastes, on his return to England, caused to be printed in London a book which contained all the signs and the meanings of the Great Disputation, but of which, strange to say, no copy has reached this day.

CHAPTER XXVII. WHAT SORT OF MAN PANURGE WAS, AND THE MANY TRICKS HE KNEW.

THE new friend and attendant of Panta-gruel was, as has already been seen, a man of good presence, neither too tall nor too short. His nose was a fine aquiline, so fine and sharp, indeed, that its curve was said by even his best friends to look for all the world like the blade of a razor. He was thirty-five years old, or thereabout, and was the gayest, maddest, most reckless roisterer that gay, mad, reckless, roistering Paris had ever welcomed within her walls. His purse never knew what it was to be full. For, although he had, as he was fond of boasting, as many as sixty-three different ways of getting money, he always had two hundred and fourteen different ways of spending it. The fact is, Panurge had as many cunning ways as a monkey, and could have taught the wisest and grayest old monkey in the forest tricks of which he, in his simplicity, had never once dreamed. He made it a point never to go abroad without having a flask of good wine and a fat, juicy slice of bacon hidden away under his gown, saying, ''These are my body-guard. I have no other sword." But if he had one special weakness, it was the bitter hatred he bore against the sergeants and the city-watch of Paris. Of course, these little eccentricities all came out in time, and so became gradually known to Pantagruel, who often frowned on them, but could not, for the life of him, each time he heard of a new prank, help shaking the houses within a mile around, with the rumble of his hearty laughter.

It was one favorite custom of Panurge to gather three or four good fellows, and make them drink like Templars toward nightfall, when he would lead them to the high ground just above the church St. Genevieve, or near the college of Navarre, about the hour the city-watch were taking their rounds on the low ground below. He could always make sure of the hour of the guard by laying a sword down on the pavement, with his ear very close to it; and when he would hear the sword hum, he knew that the watch were coming. As soon

PANURGE GETS MONET.

as he had made sure of that, he and his companion would begin to push one of the dirt-carts, always about there, with all their strength, into the hollow, where it would come tumbling down on the unhappy watch, who, by that time, had just reached the spot, setting them to rolling and knocking about in the dust like so many swine. Of course, the party would then scamper off in a hurry, as Panurge — who, besides having a mortal dread of blows, was a born coward — had, after two days, learned to know every street, crossing, lane, and alley in Paris.

Another time he would drop along some good, level place where the unlucky watch were obliged to pass, a long train of powder, and, then, after finding a safe hiding-place, when they had come, he would fire the train at his end, lau^h a loud laugh while he watched their antics in scurrying away, thinking all the time that good St. Anthony was tugging away at their legs. Now, Panurge was a very wise man, but, in spite of all his learning, he dearly loved to plague those whom he ought certainly to have most respected, — I mean the Masters of Arts and the students of the Universities. Whenever he would meet one of these on the street, he was sure to do him some mischief, such as pinning to his back little fox-tails, hare's ears, or some such roguery.

Another great delight of Panurge was keeping a whip under his gown, with which he used to lash, until his very arm ached, such pages as he found carrying wine to their masters. He used to say it was to make them go faster, and he was sure their masters would thank him for it.