Tartlet

“ Each performed his daily task according to his ability. It was no longer necessary for them to keep watch by day and night over a fire which they had now the means of relighting.
Tartlet therefore abandoned, not without regret, a task [Pg 169] which suited him so well. Henceforwards he took charge of the provisioning with yamph and camas roots—of that in short which formed the daily bread of the establishment, so that the professor went every day and collected them, up to the lines of shrubs with which the prairie was bordered behind Will Tree. ”

“ Example.—Garnish the bottom of a tartlet or barquette with a coating of pink, shrimp, crayfish or lobster mousse. Upon this lay a very white poached oyster, or a slice of hard-boiled egg, stamped with an indented fancy-cutter. In the centre of the yolk put a little lobster coral, and coat the whole with jelly to the level of the tartlet edges.
The explanations given above warrant my refraining from a more detailed discussion of these delicate preparations. Sufficient has been said to allow of any operator, with a little taste and inventiveness, easily making an endless variety of combinations. ”

“ Tartar, meanwhile, has long loved--as she believes--hopelessly, Peyton Edwards, a quietly-reserved young lawyer, whom she finally marries.--Mariam Coles Harris, Phœbe (1884) .
Tartarin, a Quixotic Frenchman whose life at home and whose adventures while travelling are related by Alphonse Daudet in Tartarin of Tarascon, Tartarin on the Alps, and Port Tarascon.
Tartlet (Tim) , servant of Mrs. Pattypan, to whom also he is engaged to be married. He says, “I loves to see life, because vy, ’tis so agreeable.”--James Cobb, The First Floor, i. 2 (1756-1818) . ”

“ It was to Tartarin a most delightful emotion to tread, as he followed the travellers of the Circular Cook along the lakeside, that historic soil, to recall and live again the principal episodes of the great drama which he knew as he did his own life.
From his earliest years, William Tell had been his type. When, in the Bézuquet pharmacy, they played the game of preference, each person writing secretly on folded slips the poet, the tree, the odour, the hero, the woman he preferred, one of the papers invariably ran thus:—
“Tree preferred? ........... the baobab. Odour? ..................... ”

“ The old woman raised an idiotic, cadaverous face, with a goitre swaying upon her throat as large as the rustic bell of a Swiss cow. Then, after gazing at him for a long time, she was seized with inextinguishable laughter, which stretched her mouth from ear to ear, wrinkled up the corners of her little eyes, and every time she opened them the sight of Tartarin, planted before her with his ice-axe on his shoulder, redoubled her joy.
“Tron de l’air!” growled the Tarasconese, “lucky for her that she’s a woman...” ”

“ But see what it is to possess a good conscience! In spite of rats, cold, spiders, and beetles, the great Tartarin found in the horror of that state-prison, haunted by the shades of martyrs, the same solid and sonorous sleep, mouth open, fists closed, which came to him, between the abysses and heaven, in the hut of the Alpine Club. He fancied he was dreaming when he heard his jailer say in the morning:—
“Get up; the prefect of the district is here... He has come to examine you...” Adding, with a certain respect, “To bring the prefect out in this way... why, you must be a famous scoundrel.” ”

“ The unfortunate Tartarin did not know where to shrink. The fond, mute gaze of these splendrous Oriental orbs agitated him, perturbed him, and made him feel like dying with flushes of heat and fits of cold shivers.
To finish him, the lady’s slipper meddled in the onslaught: he felt the dainty thing wander and frisk about over his heavy hunting boots like a tiny red mouse. What could he do? Answer the glance and the pressure, of course. Ay, but what about the consequences? A loving intrigue in the East is a terrible matter! ”

“ AT Milianah, Tartarin of Tarascon alighted, leaving the stage-coach to continue its way towards the South.
Two days’ rough jolting, two nights spent with eyes open to spy out of window if there were not discoverable the dread figure of a lion in the fields beyond the road—so much sleeplessness well deserved some hours repose. Besides, if we must tell everything, since his misadventure with Bombonnel, the outspoken Tartarin felt ill at ease, notwithstanding his weapons, his terrifying visage, and his red cap, before the Orleansville photographer and the two ladies fond of the military. ”

“ Tartarin, to fortify himself and also to reassure the young ladies, cried out, as he rushed on, hustling everybody: “Keep cool! Keep cool!” in the voice of a gull, pallid, distraught, one of those voices that we hear in dreams sending chills down the back of the bravest man. Now, can you understand those young misses, who laughed as they looked at him and seemed to think it very funny? Girls have no notion of danger, at that age!.. ”

“ A fine rain like needle-points had been falling since morning; and the worthy Tartarin, hampered by his armament, hustled by the porters and the custom-house officials, ran from carriage to carriage, sonorous and lumbering as that orchestra-man one sees at fairs, whose every movement sets a-going triangles, big drums, Chinese bells, and cymbals. At all the doors the same cry of terror, the same crabbed “Full!” growled in all dialects, the same swelling-out of bodies and garments to take as much room as possible and prevent the entrance of so dangerous and resounding a companion. ”

“ III. An alarm on the Rigi. “Keep cool! Keep cool!” The Alpine horn. What Tartarin saw, on awaking, in his looking-glass, Perplexity. A guide is ordered by telephone.
“Quès aco?.. Quî vive?” cried Tartarin, ears alert and eyes straining hard into the darkness.
Feet were running through the hotel, doors were slamming, breathless voices were crying: “Make haste! make haste!..” while without was ringing what seemed to be a trumpet-call, as flashes of flame illumined both panes and curtains. ”

“ The waiter reflected, with an important air, twirling his moustache. “With confidence?.. Ah! if monsieur had only spoken sooner; we had a man here this morning who was just the thing... the courier of that Peruvian family...”
“He understands the mountain?” said Tartarin, with a knowing air.
“Oh, yes, monsieur, all the mountains, in Switzerland, Savoie, Tyrol, India, in fact, the whole world; he has done them all, he knows them all, he can tell you all about them, and that’s something!.. I think he might easily be induced... With a man like that a child could go anywhere without danger.” ”

“ The young girl, growing more insistent as Tartarin weakened, went on:—
“You spoke just now of a void to be filled; does it not seem to you more noble, more interesting to risk your life for a great cause than to risk it in slaying lions or scaling glaciers?”
“The fact is,” said Tartarin, intoxicated, losing his head and mad with an irresistible desire to take and kiss that ardent, persuasive little hand which she laid upon his arm, as she had done once before, up there, on the Rigi when he put on her shoe. ”

“ Tartarin was so, and even more than that, for the poor fellow’s teeth chattered, and on the cross-bar of his hunting-knife, planted upright in the bank, as we repeat, his rifle-barrel rattled like a pair of castanets. Do not ask too much of a man! There are times when one is not in the mood ”

“ A dim light fell, tremulous with the shimmer of the lake, through narrow slits in the wall, which scarcely showed more than a scrap of the sky.
“Here you are at home,” said the jailer. “Be careful you don’t go to the farther end: the pit is there...”
Tartarin recoiled, horrified:—
“The pit! Boudiou!”
“What do you expect, my lad? I am ordered to put you in Bonnivard’s dungeon... I have put you in Bonnivard’s dungeon... Now, if you have the means, you can be furnished with certain comforts, for instance, a mattress and coverlet for the night.” ”

“ Never existed! William Tell! William Tell a myth! And it was a painter charged with the duty of decorating the Tellsplatte who said that calmly. He hated him as if for a sacrilege; he hated those learned men, and this denying, demolishing impious age, which respects nothing, neither fame nor grandeur—coquin de sort!
And so, two hundred, three hundred years hence, when Tartarin was spoken of there would always be Astier-Réhus and Professor Schwanthalers to deny that he ever existed—a Provençal myth! ”

“ Tartarin fancied that they watched him narrowly. One in particular, seated over against him, had fixed her eyes upon his, and never took them off all the drive. Although the dame was veiled, the liveliness of the big black eyes, lengthened out by k’hol; a delightfully slender wrist loaded with gold bracelets, of which a glimpse was given from time to time among the folds; the sound of her voice, the graceful, almost childlike, movements of the head, all revealed that a young, pretty, and loveable creature bloomed underneath the veil. ”

“ On all the grand Alpine excursions it was to him that the Club entrusted its banner, and his childish soul had vowed to the P. C. A. a fanatical worship, the burning, silent adoration of a taper consuming itself before an altar in the Easter season.
“Pascalon,” said the apothecary in a low voice, and so close to him that the bristle of his moustache pricked his ear. “I have news of Tartarin... It is heart-breaking...”
Seeing him turn pale, he added:
“Courage, child! all can be repaired... Différemment I confide to you the pharmacy... If any one asks you for arsenic, don’t give it ”

“ Tartarin of Tarascon had a corner of the inside, where he installed himself most free-and-easily: and, preliminarily to inspiring the rank emanations of the great African felines, the hero had to content himself with that homely old odour of the stage-coach, oddly composed of a thousand smells, of man and woman, horses and harness, eatables and mildewed straw. ”

“ After picturing himself and his illustrious companion alone on the summit of Mont Blanc, without guides (who had all refused to follow them on account of the bad weather) , alone with the banner, unfurled for five minutes on the highest peak of Europe, he recounted, and with what emotion! the perilous descent and fall; Tartarin rolling to the bottom of a crevasse, and he, Bompard, fastening himself to a rope two hundred feet long in order to explore that gulf to its very depths. ”

“ The costume of the Alpinist, his spectacles, his accent, were quite enough to confound him in their minds with those agents.
“Coquin de sort! now I think of it,” said Tartarin, “they had at their heels the whole time a rascally Italian tenor... undoubtedly a spy... Différemment, what must I do?”
“Above all things, never put yourself in the way of those people again; now that they have warned you they will do you harm...” ”

“ Violent blows with the butt end of some weapon shook the door. Tartarin, greatly excited, looked at his guides... A nocturnal attack on these heights!.. The blows redoubled. “Who goes there?” cried the hero, jumping for his ice-axe; but already the hut was invaded by two gigantic Yankees, in white linen masks, their clothing soaked with snow and sweat, and behind them guides, porters, a whole caravan, on its return from ascending the Jungfrau. ”

“ But the guides were impatient; they must reach before nightfall the hut of the Alpine Club, where they were to sleep for the first stage, and there was not a minute to lose. Tartarin felt it, saluted all with a circular gesture, smiled at the malicious misses, and then, in a voice of thunder, commanded:
“Pascalon, the banner!”
It waved to the breeze; the Southerners took off their hats, for they love theatricals at Tarascon; and at the cry, a score of times repeated: “Long live the president!.. Long live Tartarin!.. Ah! ah!..fen dé brut!..” ”

“ No Mont Blanc for him... You’ll go, qué, Gonzague?”
“I ‘ll go... I ‘ll go... that is, if the weather permits... The fact is, that the mountain is not always suitable at this season.”
“Ah! vaï! not suitable indeed!..” exclaimed Tartarin, crinkling up his eyes by a meaning laugh which Bompard seemed not to understand.
“Let us go into the salon for our coffee... We ‘ll consult père Baltet. He knows all about it, he ‘s an old guide who has made the ascension twenty-seven times.” ”

“ After the first shout for Tarlton’s triumph was over, everybody exclaimed, “Poor Loveit! he’s the best natured fellow in the world! What a pity that he did not stand with his back to the sun!”
“Now, I dare you all to play another game with me,” cried Tarlton, vauntingly; and as he spoke, he tossed the shuttlecock up with all his force—with so much force that it went over the hedge and dropped into a lane, which went close beside the field. “Hey-day!” said Tarlton, “what shall we do now?” ”

“ But the presence of this burdensome quadruped rendered the thing impossible. What kind of a triumphal entry would he make? Good heavens! not a sou, not a lion, nothing to show for it save a camel!
“Tarascon! Tarascon!”
He was obliged to get down.
O amazement!
Scarce had the hero’s red fez popped out of the doorway before a loud shout of “Tartarin for ever!” made the glazed roof of the railway station tremble. “Long life to Tartarin, the lion-slayer!” And out burst the windings of horns and the choruses of the local musical societies. ”