is one of disappointment, so little will he bear comparison with the ideal. Appearances were never more deceptive, and never more believed in, than they are now.
Stories of advertising tombstones, some true, some apocryphal, are plentiful, and the best of those in which reliance can be placed is that about the Parisian grocer. It is well known that at the Père la Chaise Cemetery, near Paris, there stands, or stood, in a conspicuous position, a splendid monument to Pierre Cabochard, grocer, with a pathetic inscription, which closes thus:—
His inconsolable widow
dedicates this monument to his memory
and continues the same business at the
old stand, 187, Rue Mouffetard.
A gentleman who had noticed the inscription was led by curiosity to call at the address indicated. Having expressed his desire to see the widow Cabochard, he was immediately ushered into the presence of a fashionably-dressed and full-bearded man, who asked him what was the object of his visit. “I come to