"Sire, a post-office."
"What is your name?"
"L'Aigle."
The King frowned, glanced at the signature of the petition and beheld the name written thus:
LESGLE.
This non-Bonoparte orthography touched the King and he began to smile.
"Sire," resumed the man with the petition, "I had for ancestor a keeper of the hounds surnamed Lesgueules.
This surname furnished my name.
I am called Lesgueules, by contraction Lesgle, and by corruption l'Aigle." This caused the King to smile broadly.
Later on he gave the man the posting office of Meaux, either intentionally or accidentally.
The bald member of the group was the son of this Lesgle, or Legle, and he signed himself, Legle [de Meaux]. As an abbreviation, his companions called him Bossuet.
Bossuet was a gay but unlucky fellow.
His specialty was not to succeed in anything.
As an offset, he laughed at everything. At five and twenty he was bald.
His father had ended by owning a house and a field; but he, the son, had made haste to lose that house and field in a bad speculation.
He had nothing left. He possessed knowledge and wit, but all he did miscarried. Everything failed him and everybody deceived him; what he was building tumbled down on top of him.
If he were splitting wood, he cut off a finger.
If he had a mistress, he speedily discovered that he had a friend also.
Some misfortune happened to him every moment, hence his joviality.
He said: