an advertisement; the journals next day
made elaborate notices of the "turnout," and
thereafter whenever the General's carriage
appeared on the boulevards, as it did daily,
the people flocked to the doors of the cafés
and shops to see it pass.
Thus, before I opened the exhibition all Paris
knew that General Tom Thumb was in the city.
The French are exceedingly impressible; and
what in London is only excitement, in Paris
becomes furor. Under this pressure, with the
prestige of my first visit to the Tuileries and
the numberless paragraphs in the papers,
I opened my doors to an eager throng.
The élite of the city came to the exhibition;
the first day's receipts were 5,500 francs,
which would have been doubled if I could
have made room for more patrons. There
were afternoon and evening performances
and from that day secured seats at an extra
price were engaged in advance for the entire
two months. The season was more than a
success, it was a triumph.
It seemed, too, as if the whole city was
advertising me. The papers were profuse
in their praises of the General and his
performances. Figaro, the Punch of Paris,
gave a picture of an immense mastiff running
HYLAND
