"_Vous etes, uh-ah, l'Am-e-ri-cain?_"
"_Je suis Americain_," I admitted.
"_Eh-bi-en uh-ah uh-ah_--We were expecting you." He surveyed me with
great interest.
Behind this seedy and restless personage I noted his absolute likeness,
adorning one of the walls. The rooster was faithfully depicted a la
Rembrandt at half-length in the stirring guise of a fencer, foil in hand,
and wearing enormous gloves. The execution of this masterpiece left
something to be desired; but the whole betokened a certain spirit and
verve, on the part of the sitter, which I found difficulty in attributing
to the being before me.
"_Vous etes uh-ah KEW-MANGZ?_"
"What?" I said, completely baffled by this extraordinary dissyllable.
"_Comprenez vous fran-cais?_"
"_Un peu._"
"_Bon. Alors, vous vous ap-pel-lez KEW MANGZ, m'est-ce pas? Edouard
KEW-MANGZ?_"
"Oh," I said, relieved, "yes." It was really amazing, the way he writhed
around the G.
"_Comment ca se prononce en anglais?_"
I told him.
He replied benevolently, somewhat troubled "uh-ah uh-ah uh-ah--why are
you here, KEW-MANGZ?"
At this question I was for one moment angrier than I had ever before been
in all my life. Then I realized the absurdity of the situation, and
laughed.
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