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And the nations do but murmur, snarling at each “I mean to, sir," he cried, " directly I get other's heels.

back. I shall say, “Jack,' says I, .is your

head a horseshoe ?'

says

I. Is its nature hard Meanwhile the blacksmith stood in the door knocks ?' says I. Oh, you may leave me alone way, smoking, and curiously surveying the to pitch it pretty strong!” groom's attire.

I laughed; and shortly afterwards he bade “ There's shoulders !” said my companion, in me " Good-day," and walked on. a low, admiring tone. “ And look at them I looked after him, as he trudged along the arms!”

road, with his savage dog at his heels. They were, indeed, of Herculean mould.

“Now there goes a practical missionary of " Double X is a very good thing, sir," said the peace,” thought I. • That bull-baiting fellow groom; " and thrubble X is better. Roast beef will do more to check warlike tendencies in the is good. Christmas-pudden is good. In steaks stable-yards and cock-pits of his neighbourhood, they can't come nigh us; and their drink is rot. than a dozen theoretic philanthropists. He But I tell you what it is, sir,” said he, dropping mixes with the very class whose prejudices and his voice a little, “whatever they live on, frogs brutal propensities stand in the most need of or frigazees, I have seen some here, both men correction. He speaks their language and and dogs, as one of our'n could n't tackle three understands their particular logic. And, in not by a very long chalk !”

whatever pot-houses and prize-rings he tells of “ And yet three is the regulation number,” these French blacksmiths, he will propagate said I, laughing

feelings of international esteem, and unconHe shook his head, still eyeing the unconsciously disseminate germs of order and fraterscious blacksmith, who puffed away cheerfully, nity. ...“Go thy ways, then, rough apostle !" looking up and down the road.

said I. “Thou, too, hast thy appointed task ! And he do n't look like a White feather, | Toi aussi, tu apporteras une pierre au temple neither; do he sir ? ” said the groom.

de l'Humanité !'" He certainly did not; in any sense of the “ Au temple de l'Humanité !” echoed a gruff expression.

voice. “C'est ça. Bruvo!"And wheresomever he come from, there's I looked round, and saw the blacksmith still plenty more of the same sort ?” continued the leaning against the door-post. There was a groom.

good-humored smile upon his grimy face; and Ah, to be sure!" I replied.

he nodded pleasantly to me. Regiments on 'em,” said he.

"Au temple de l'Humanité!” he repeated. • Squadrons,” said I.

Ca me va! Bravo!“ One to three,” he resumed, thoughtfully, “ is These words, which I had unconsciously ten to thirty. Ten thousand to thirty thousand. spoken aloud, are the charms of one of Festeau's !! It wouldn't act, sir, would it?”

popular songs. " I fancy not,” said I.

There was an easy frankness in the black, " It would not,” he rejoined. “ It may sound smith's bearing, and in his jovial eye, that pleased strange to English ears; but we could n't come it.” me mightily. So I approached, and gave him

“ But suppose the numbers equal ?” I sug * Good-day!” gested.

“ Monsieur is English," said he; “so was the “ Very true, sir,” he replied, quickly. “ Ekal, other; so was the dog. English all three: I I don't say no.

And I should n't be the man to could have told you anywhere." be back’ard. But, arter all, sir, where's the “ And how?:) I inquired, tickled by this good on it? I say, “Let dogs delight.'' Nattering juxtaposition.

Certainly,” said I, “ I quite agree with you.” llim, by his breeches and boots,” said the " And cocks," added he. “A good cock-fight blacksmith, pointing along the road with the is beautiful. But as to men,” he continued, stem of his pipe. Ilim,” he added, depressing “ since I come across, to-morrow is a week, my the tip of that instrument, “ by his big, ugly thoughts is changed surprising."

head. You," he concluded, bringing the pipe, “ As how?” I asked.

by a swivel movement of his wrist, to bear

upon “Why, I used to think like Jack Bullock, as

by your big shirt-collars, and by the keeps the British Lion down our mews; and way your words grate against your teeth as they now I think quite the contrairy. I says to my- come out." self, for instance, Tom,' says I, why put your “ Undeniable signs," said I, laughing. head in the place of that anvil ?' says

I."

“ Oyez, Ingleesh, Milor. 'Ow you do? Ha! “ You should put that question to Jack Bul- ha! ha!” lock," I observed, smiling,

And he laughed heartily.

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my chest,

“ Well, well !” he resumed, checking himself, “I shall have great pleasure in making Mad“what signifies a little rust on the key, so it ame's acquaintance.” opens the door? I understand you perfectly. He said nothing, but went out into the road, You understand our songs, too. And that one and stepped to the door of a vine-clad cottage is the best that ever was forged. Tenez! I can adjoining the workshop; I following. shew it you.”

He lifted the latch, and threw open the door. He entered his shed as he spoke; and opening Entrez," said he. the drawer of his work-bench, produced a dirty I bowed, and went in. scroll of paper, which unrolled itself in his hands It was a large, low room, a sort of parlorto the length of fully two yards; so that, while kitchen, tiled with glazed hexagons of bright he read one end, the other trailed upon the red clay, and divided into two unequal compartground. Each part of the paper had come in ments by a high screen stretching half across it. for its share of the mud; and I thought that The smaller compartment was fitted up as a these vicissitudes of the poems, alternately be- cuisine, with burnished copper stew-pans, and spattered and caressed, might typify, aptly other such utensils. The more spacious comenough, the chequered fortunes of the poets. partment bore the aspect of a cottage sitting

Le voici !” said he, deepening with his room; and looked comfortable enough with its thumb, as he spoke, the complexion of the indi- red drugget, its book-shelf, and its gaudily colcated verse.

Monsieur knows the tune ?” ored prints. One of these, I remember, repreAnd he shouted forth the first stanza in a sented the Virgin Mary, with her chest laid open stentorian voice, waving his tongs vigorously to

so as to exhibit her heart, marked with a cross, the measure.

and surmounted by a flame. Two others, the "Chorus, my lads !” he cried, turning to his subject of which I did not then catch, on account two workmen.

of the glare on the glass, were decorated with And they all three roared in chorus, - bunches of holly and mistletoe. Over the brisk

wood fire on the hearth a great boiler hung, Soldats de paix! apportez une pierre Au temple de l'Humanité !

rumbling, and emitting steam around the lid –

which kept quivering, and jumping up, to let out I joined in lustily; and so we went through the larger puiis. In frort of the fire stood a the whole song - some twenty stanzas.

table, covered with a clean napkin; and on Bravo !” cried the jolly blacksmith, when another, in the recess of the window, stood a we had finished.

“ That's hearty. That's wicker cage, in which a beautiful white dove, what I like. Ca me va !

with soft dark eyes, and delicate rose-dipt feet, “It is a phalansterian song," I remarked. “Is sat peckling its snowy plumage. Near the cage Monsieur for that system?”

lay a work-box; and some coarse blue knitting, “ Ma foi !" he replied, “ I do n't rightly know. transfixed with two shining needles. It is a hardish word to understand. I am for all “ Ma femme !" called the blacksmith. men being jolly together. Que diable! Life is

Ile had scarcely spoken when the latch ratshort enough."

tled, the door opened, and the figure of a woman, “ In that case you are not for the invasion of with a basket in her hand, stood sharply defined England ?' said I.

against the light. The position made her face He made no reply ; but put his pipe in his indistinguishable, but exbibited to advantage the mouth, and rapidly got up its steam; looking outline of a neat tournure. hard at my face the while.

" Voila ma femme!" said the blacksmith. “ Terrible rumours are afloat, you know," I “Wife, here is an Englishman come to see you." insisted. " Dover is to be sacked some dark I bowed; and the figure immediately advanced night, suddenly; London entered before morn- into the room, presenting to my inquisitive reing; and the tricolor hoisted on the Tower bat-gard features of singular beauty ; a delicate tlements by noon. But you'd hardly, I fancy, blonde complexion (Gods ! what a contrast to forge pikes for that plot ?"

the smith's!) pure blue eyes; an open, waveless He remained silent. A curious smile played, brow, shaded with auburn hair; and a sweet, flickering, about his mouth; and he poured out cheerful smile, quite enchanting to behold. great puffs of blue smoke — still eyeing me in She saluted me in English! and welcomed tently. All at once he exclaimed,

me, as a countryman, with evident pleasure. “I will show you my wife.” (“Je m'en vais I was delighted with the adventure; and I vous montrer ma femme.')

There was something so odd in this abrupt We sat down, and she chatted away eagerly proposal, that I with difficulty suppressed a smile. about England -- asking me all sorts of questions,

“ Monsieur is very good," I replied, bowing, especially concerning Dover, her native place.

said so.

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off me.

As she talked, the blacksmith listened with This might have been prevented, and made whole, exulting eyes; though, as I soon discovered, he By very easy arguments of love." did not understand a word of the conversation. Meanwhile the blacksmith stood erect, with

" You should teach your husband English,” I folded arms, and contemplated the boy proudly. remarked.

V’la mon garçon !" cried he -" and not “ I have been trying," replied she, laughing, badly forged neither! Ha! ha! ha!” “ever since our marriage, five years ago. But it The child ran impetuously to his father, and is of no use, - he will talk French."

strove to pluck the great tongs out of his hand“ And when you married him did you know with sinister glances at the dog. French ?” I inquired.

The blacksmith took the little fellow up in his · Not a word.”

arms; and pressed him fondly against his hairy Then, how did your marriage come about ? chest; and ran his black fingers through his “I came over with Captain Smith's family as golden curls. lady’s-maid; and used to see Pierre

every

Sun “Let me go, father! "cried the child, strugday at church. He never would keep his eyes gling; — his eyes still fixed on the dog.

The end of it was, that Captain Smith The blacksmith laughed; and patted his glowleft - and I stayed behind.”

ing cheeks; and set him gently down; somewhat “ But how in the world did you manage your dirtier, to say truth, than when he took him up. courtship – he not understanding English, nor “What a figure the child is !” said his mother you French ? "

to me, confidentially. “Pierre always forgets; “Oh, it was easy enough! His eyes spoke so — but I would n't say a word for the world, he is plainly!"

so fond of him!” " And you ? "

" llaud indecoro pulvere!” thought I, looking “I? Oh, I nodded

my
head."

at the smith's black bands. “But all day long ?”

Here the dog, having walked round the room, " Pierre was at work, you know; and I used and taken a passing snuffat every thing, returned to go into the garden behind the shed, and look to the door; and setting his fore-paws against it, at him through the little window. I was quite lifted the latch with his nose, and let himself out, satisfied with seeing him.”

the child following with a furious war-whoop. “Well, but in the evenings,” said I _“the long “ He's off!” cried the delighted blacksmith winter evenings?"

“ the rascal's off with my tongs !” “Oh, they passed so quickly! We loved each Order being thus restored, I inquired of my other so dearly!” said she, earnestly; and then fair country woman whether her father and mother she stopped short and blushed.

were still alive, and whether she ever saw them? “What glowing pictures — " thought I,“ what “ Oh yes !” she replied. “ They live at Dover happy recollections — that rapid flush sums up!” with my brother, who is a pilot, and maintains

At this moment there was a scratching at the them. He often comes across in his boat; and door; the string of the latch was violently agi every year he takes me over to spend Christmas tated; and immediately afterwards the great with them. Last time I took my dear mother mastiff burst into the room, dragging after him a over a warm jacket of my own knitting; and little chubby urchin, some three or four years Pierre sent father some brandy; and my mother old, who held on dauntlessly by the dog's collar, gave us those beautiful pictures, and all the and sorely buffeted bis ribs. The dog only no- holly and mistletoe round them.” ticed these assaults by a good-natured wagging I moved so as to see the pictures. They were of his tail; and, from time to time, he turned his colored lithographs; one of Queen Victoria ; head, and licked the child's face with his broad the other of the Prince of Wa in the charactongue.

ter of the Royal Tar.' “You sha n't get away !" cried the little hero, Eh bien ! ” cried the blacksmith, with the out of breath. “How dare you lick my

face!” same lambent, ironical smile, that I had before “Gently, Pierre, dear,” said his mother. “ Poor remarked, “What do you think now? How Phanor, come here !”

about those pikes? What do you say, Mary, The noble brute laid his great head in her lap, bichette, shall we go across some dark night, and and looked up into her face with his deep, friend sack Dover, and burn the old folks in their ly eyes — the very eyes that bad, with such a beds? wolfish fire, glared battle on the bulldog . * Fi, donc ! Pierre,” said she, looking at him merely because be was a stranger!

affectionately. “ Make us but known to each other, nations or “ Ab!” said the jolly blacksmith," time was I dogs,” thought I, “and all bad blood is healed. would have fought fifty battles rather than see As Shakspeare says on like occasion

those pictures hanging up in my house. But I

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any more."

was young, then, and fond of fighting - like my “I told you that M. Papouff has only one leg, boy. I knew no better. Que diable ! we have one arm, and one eye. Pierre unfortunately all been children."

said, that 'to cut off an 'ear would make him Here there was a rap at the door; which complete !"" being opened, a little French girl, with a brown I fairly burst out laughing. face and bright-red arms, came in ; and delivered Well, but,” she continued, “ Pierre ought not a message from her mother, craving the loan of to have said so. I think he was a little wrong. a casserole : which being immediately supplied, For you know it was mocking a calamity.” the little postulant vanished, - like a slide out True," said I, resuming my gravity. “ And of a magic lantern.

what came of it?" “ You are on friendly terms, I see, with your “ It came home to M. Papouff's ears, and he French neighbours," said I, to my blue-eyed ac was so angry! He would not even speak to us quaintance.

“Oh yes!” she replied. “They are all very “What did you do ?” kind; though at first, some of them didn't like “I wrote and asked my dear mother's advice. Pierre having married une Anglaise. Especially She always knows what is best. And she wrote M. Papouff.”

a long letter to Pierre, which I explained to “ And who is M. Papouff ?'

him." “An old soldier, who has served in Spain, and " And what did the letter advise ?” has only one leg, one arm, and one eye. He is " It advised Pierre to go and beg M. Papouff's covered with scars, and wears a great black pardon.” patch. I believe he has a pension to live on; “ And did he go ?” and he passes his time in smoking."

“ He was not much inclined. He said it was “ And he disapproved of the match ?" a man's part to stick to what he said, and to

“ Extremely. The more so that, when he back it up, if need be, by force; but not to ask came to see us, I unfortunately made him angry." | any man's pardon.” " How was that?

Well?” " He speaks a little Spanish; and, as I could “Well, I considered all day; and, at dinnernot understand French, he spoke to me in time, I reminded Pierre that M. Papouff had Spanish.”

only one arm. He made no answer, but sat "An ingenious thought," said I, laughing. thinking; and, after dinner, he put on his hat

“ He considered that the farther he went from and went." what I didn't understand, the nearer he should “ And M. Papouff' was reconciled of course ? get to something I did. So the schoolmaster ex “I am sorry to say he was not. He spoke to plained it, at least ”

us afterwards, certainly; but he always looked “ And how did you manage ?”

askance in a manner. He even said to the “ I made him no answer ... how could I? I schoolmaster that the English were al bad set, tried to smile —"

and that no good would come of their barboring " You did not find that difficult," I interposed, in the village.” with a bow.

“The cross-grained curmudgeon! I suppose “Indeed I did, though !” she rejoined. “For you left him to himself ?” when I did not answer, he raised his voice “No, I was always thinking about it. I waited louder — and louder; till at last he absolutely for Christmas, that I might talk it over with my bawled. He grew so red !”

dear mother. She is always right." ?”

“ And what happened after all ?”. was so frightened! He kept bringing “ I will tell you. On Christmas-eve, at my his face nearer and nearer to mine, frowning mother's, my brother Jack read us a most beaudreadfully; and the great scar on bis forehead tiful book, and made us all cry.” mixed up with his frowns, and made him look “What book ?” I inquired, with interest. quite hideous.”

“It was about Tiny Tim, a poor little lame “ And what happened ?”

boy, who nearly died, but did n’t. Oh, a beauNothing - only I shrank away rather: and tiful book!" for years he never forgave me.”

[I thought, with Wordsworth, of “ And did his dislike for you extend also to your husband ?"

the simple beauty shown “ Not exactly so. But it made Pierre dislike In labors that have touched the hearts of kings,

And are endear'd to simple cottagers ; him; and one day Pierre said a very unlucky thing."

and the Christmas Carol and its author rose " What was that?"

higher than ever in my estimation.]

6 And you

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my head."

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“ Well ? ” said I.

Tim falls ill, he left off smoking. I was “ Well,” she replied, " coming back through pleased to see his pipe burn lower and lower ! Boulogne, I saw in a shop-window this very book And at last it went out, and — would you betranslated into French; and an idea came into lieve it? — great tears rolled down among his

scars, and he sobbed and asked for some more " What was that?

punch.” “ I thought that, as M. Papouff was lame, he " Iron tears,” thought I,“ down Pluto's cheek!” would like to hear about Tiny Tim, who is lame * And so he was reconciled ?” too, and yet such a favorite with every one. “ No,” said she, shaking her head, “ quite the So I bought the book.”

contrary. The very moment the schoolmaster " And sent it to him ?”

had finished M. Papouff said, “What English“No, no! I begged Pierre to step round to man could write a book like that?' And the his house, and ask him to come and dine with schoolmaster said it was an Englishman that us, and particularly to say that we should have wrote it. But M. Papouff would u't believe it; a dish of macaroni ; for M. Papouff likes maca and we could n't convince him all we could do." roni better than any thing."

• And how did you proceed ?” “ He accepted, no doubt,” said I, laughing. “We argued it out for a long while; and at

“ Pierre said that he hummed a little ; and last M. Papouff said, that if we could convince asked, in a casual way, whether I dressed maca him that an Englishman wrote that book, he roni with scraped cheese. Now, the fact is, I would unsay what he had said about the Engused not. But Pierre said I did - and M. lish being a bad set. But he added, just as he Papoufl promised to come."

was leaving the house, that we could n't convince “And did he keep his word ? ”

him and need n't try.” “Yes, and we asked the schoolmaster to meet “What bad you to say to that?” him. I was in such a tremble when they came ! “ There was the puzzle. I wrote next day Especially about the macaroni ; which I almost and asked my dear mother's advice. She always smothered with scraped cheese. I was really knows what to do.” afraid I had put too much.”

" And what did she suggest ?” * And how did the dinner go off ? "

“ She sent over her book the English book “ Most wretchedly. M. Papouff said that itself, which has the picture of Tiny Tim in it. seven English queens had killed their husbands. And we had another dinner, and more macaroThe schoolmaster said he was wrong, - that it ni; and we showed M. Papouff the picture of was an English king who had killed seven wives; Tiny Tim, and the actual English print.” I think he said seven. How they disputed! I “ That must have convinced him." really think they would never have stopped but “ Not in the least. He admitted the picture ; for the macaroni

but as for the printing, he said it was Spanish ; “ And the scraped cheese," said I, laughing. and stood to it.” “ Yes.

The schoolmaster, who is a good How did you get over that?” said I, laughnatured man, helped M. Papouff to nearly half ing. the dish ; and I took care to keep another plate “ The schoolmaster went home and fetched ful for him besides."

his dictionary, - an immense book, with Anglais " That put him in good humour ?”

et Françuis in gold letters on the back.” He said it was poor cheese, and "A capital thought," said I. badly browned ; and that French dishes were “Yes. The schoolmaster managed most cunbest made by French people. But I had one ningly. Ile first shewed M. Papouff the gold comfort - he ate it.”

printing on the back: there was the word · An* The churl! - Well?”

glais,' you know; he could n't deny that. Then “Well, after dinner, Pierre made some punch; he opened the book, and shewed him the Eng. and we began to get or a little better.”

lish words inside; and then, all of a sudden, he " And the book ?”

shewed him the very same words in the little " I asked the schoolmaster to read it aloud, - book." taking care, you understand, not to say that an “What did M. Papouff say to that ?” Englishman wrote it."

He said he would consider of it; and went " And did it interest M. Papouff?”

home.” “Not much, at first. Ile smoked his pipe, “ And what was the result of his consideraand rattled his spoon in his glass, and asked for tion ? " sugar in the very places which I thought most " Why, the next morning he came here of his beautiful. But when we came to the part about own accord, and said that his one eye was as Tiny Tim, he began to attend; and where Tiny I sharp as any schoolmaster's two, and that he

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