One day in a German town, 'etant dans la misere', I decided to try the French consul.

Well, as you know, I am a Fleming, but something had to be screwed out somewhere.

He refused to see me; I sat down to wait.

After about two hours a voice bellowed: 'Has n't the brute gone ?' and my consul appears.

'I 've nothing for fellows like you,' says he; 'clear out!' "'Monsieur,' I answered, 'I am skin and bone; I really must have assistance.' "'Clear out,' he says, 'or the police shall throw you out!' "I don't budge.