French and music extra. Sammy didn't know when he started exactly what he should study. He found out the very morning he reached the academy.

Now the proprietor and principal of the Classical Academy had one free pupil,-a charity scholar who was paying her way through school by helping about the house, waiting on the door, and so on. Susan Hallet was in the fourth class in French, but a rather forgetful girl about some things, and having one day forgotten some trifling matter, the principal compelled her to speak nothing but French for one hundred hours. When Sammy Burdock rang the bell the required penance in French was just one hour old. Susan opened the door. Sammy had never seen such a vision of loveliness. 'Be you the school-marm?"

"Non, Monsuer."

"How? Hope I see you well. You're lookin' as bloomin' as a high-top sweetin' in June."

"Merci! Monsuer, merci!"

"Mercy? What you askin' for mercy for? I ain't goin' to hurt ye. I'm as innercent as a last year's almanac." Susan looked upon him in a bewitching way and motioned him to come in and take a seat.

"Parley vous francais?"

Sammy was puzzled and hadn't a word to say, and Susan, rattling off a dozen words in boarding-school French, disappeared.

"I thought she looked kinder Frenchified. Tallest kind of a gal I ever seen. Julia Spillkins, up to hum, couldn't touch her with a ten-foot pole. I've heard the Kanucks parley vou, but it was like the squawkin' of crows 'side of her. Guess I will tell the Perfesser I'll take French." One morning about four days after this, Sammy appeared ready to attack his new studies.

"Got a lesson book,-French by lightning: Have you the sugar of the uncle, or the cream of the aunt? Avez vous lee sucker dee l'onkle ou la creeme dee la tante? Pesky curus language any way. Are the coals on

the bench? No; they are in the butter of the brother. Lees charbong sont iles sur lee bank? Non; iles sont dans lee beurre du frère. It gets foolisher and foolisher as it goes on. If I wasn't in love with the gal jam up to the handle-Jehosophat! here she comes, and lookin' as smilin' as a bunch of hollyhocks!"

Susan had been struck. Sammy's beaming smile had instantly won her heart. Knowing he did not understand French, she boldly said to him:

66

'Bon jour, mon cher ami."

Sammy caught the last part and turned to the vocabulary at the end of his book.

'Moncheramy. I'll look and see what it means. Amy amy-oh! friend. Cher—c-h-e-r-dear-dear friend." Shutting up the book he boldly launched into French. "Moncheramy. Glad to see you."

"Merci, merci."

"Mercy again! Why I ain't going to hit you. Studying French, I am, so as to talk to you. I like to hear you talk French; sounds like a bobolink a-hollerin' in a laylock bush."

"Bob-o-link-lay-lock bush!"

"Yes. Bird-singing-laylock bush--smell sweetflower. Understand?"

Susan nodded and smiled in a charming way. "Oui, oui monsuer."

She's kinder sosherble

"We, we. She says 'we.' already. I shall like her bang up. See-bookFrench. Have you the butter of the uncle? No; I put the good butter of the uncle in the shoes of the carpenter. Avez vous lee

Charmant, charmant," cried Susan, " mon cher ami." "Moncheramy again. I understand that firstrate. I say, miss, don't you speak English?"

"Oh, oh, oui-some-little. Give to me the book; I shall teach you la belle Francaise, mon cher Samivel. See; you conjugate the verbs. Say to me: J'aime, tu aimes, il aime, nous aimons, vous aimez, ils aiment."

Sammy innocently repeated the words after her: "Jam, too aimes, illams, nousamons, vousamy."

"Très horrible. Non, non, Again: J'aime." "Jam."

"Ver goot. Again."

"Jam. What does it mean?"

"N'importe. Again: J'aime, tu aimes, il aime, nous aimons."

Jam, jam. I wonder what it means. Let me take the book, please."

Susan gave

him the book with a sly twinkle in her eyes. Charmant, so great progress you make. Oh, mon cher ami, if it were true."

'If what were true?"

"N'importe. Again: J'aime"

66 Jam. Oh, I see! I guess I catch on. sellee, Jam."

Jam mam

"Oh, la belle language! So meaningless-so fullso expresseeve."

"Moncheramy. I understand that firstrate. Jam moncheramy."

Just at this instant the clock struck and Susan cried out in excellent English: "Time's up! How do you like French, Mr. Burdock?"

"Jehosophat! Can you speak English?"

"I can't speak anything else."

Then you're just foolin' a feller-jam up to the handle!"

Susan nodded mysteriously and tried to run away, but Sammy was too quick for her and held her fast.

"Susan, jam mon cher amy. English is a heap sight better language than French when it comes down to hard pan. Jam! as sure as Scripture. French is a kinder holler language any way.

"Oui, monsuer."

'We-again. Shall we make it we the rest of the way?” "O Samuel! I ask no more! J'aime mon cher ami with all my heart."

THE LETTER H.-CATHERINE FANSHAWE.

"Twas in heaven pronounced, and 'twas muttered in hell,
And echo caught faintly the sound as it fell;
On the confines of earth 'twas permitted to rest,
And the depths of the ocean its presence confessed.
"Twill be found in the sphere when 'tis riven asunder,
Be seen in the lightning and heard in the thunder.
"Twas allotted to man with his earliest breath,
Attends him at birth, and awaits him in death,
Presides o'er his happiness, honor, and health,
Is the prop of his house, and the end of his wealth.
In the heaps of the miser 'tis hoarded with care,
But is sure to be lost on his prodigal heir.

It begins every hope, every wish it must bound,
With the husbandman toils, and with monarchs is crowned.
Without it the soldier, the seaman, may roam;

But woe to the wretch who expels it from home!

In the whispers of conscience its voice will be found,
Nor e'en in the whirlwind of passion be drowned.

"Twill not soften the heart; but, though deaf be the ear, It will make it acutely and instantly hear.

Yet in shade let it rest, like a delicate flower,

Ah! breathe on it softly-it dies in an hour.

SCENE FROM "RICHELIEU."-E. BULWER LYTTON. RICHELIEU, JOSEPH, JULIE, CLERMONT, BARADAS.

Richelieu.

Present: Richelieu and Joseph.

Joseph did you hear the King?

Joseph. I did there's danger! Had you been less

haughty

Rich. And suffered slaves to chuckle: "See the Cardi

nal,

How meek his Eminence is to-day"-I tell thee

This is a strife in which the loftiest look

Is the most subtle armor

Joseph.

But

No time

Rich.
For ifs and buts. I will accuse these traitors!
François shall witness that De Baradas
Gave him the secret missive for De Bouillon,

And told him life and death were in the scroll.

I will-I will!

Joseph.

Tush! François is your creature;

So they will say, and laugh at you! Your witness
Must be that same Despatch.

Rich.

Away to Marion!

Joseph. I have been there-she is seized-removed-imprisoned

By the Count's orders.

Rich.
Goddess of bright dreams,
My country, shalt thou lose me now, when most
Thou need'st thy worshipers? My native land!
Let me but ward this dagger from thy heart,
And die, but on thy bosom!

Julie.

Enter Julie.

Heaven, I thank thee!

It cannot be, or this all-powerful man

Would not stand idly thus.

Rich.

Home!

What dost thou here?

Julie. Home! Is Adrien there? You're dumb, yet strive For words; I see them trembling on your lip,

But choked by pity. It was truth-all truth!
Seized-the Bastile-and in your presence, tool
Cardinal, where is Adrien? Think! he saved
Your life: your name is infamy, if wrong
Should come to his!

Let thine eyes meet mine:

Answer me but one word-I am a wife

I ask thee for my home-my FATE—MY ALL!
Where is my husband?

Rich.

You are Richelieu's ward,

A soldier's bride: they who insist on truth

Must outface fear;-you ask me for your husband?
There where the clouds of heaven look darkest o'er
The domes of the Bastile!

Julie.

Oh, mercy! mercy!

Save him, restore him, father! Art thou not
The Cardinal-King?-the Lord of life and death-
Art thou not Richelieu?