He held up his two fingers, and turned his hand right and left.

His pastoral blessing was, however, but a half success.
The women crossed themselves, and the men muttered "farceur." The war which is now raging has produced many oddities, but none to my mind equal to this bishop.

His great object is to see and be seen, and most thoroughly does he succeed in his object.

He is a short, stout man, dressed in a cassock, a pair of jack-boots with large spurs, and a hat such as you would only see at the opera.

On his breast he wears a huge star.