ssed people walking about or seated, and enjoying
the lively scene around them. Children by the score are there
too--richly dressed and playing at all sorts of games, attended by their
governesses or nurses, and all this, joined to the constantly passing
brilliant carriages, makes eyes unaccustomed to the sparkle and glare
soon get weary. Even I, used to Paris and its ways as I was, felt tired
of the whirl and rush, and I thought to myself I would turn out of the
wide thoroughfare and make my way home by some quieter side street.

[Illustration]

I was standing at the edge of the pavement with this intention, waiting
till there should come a safe moment to cross, when I caught sight of a
little group not far from me, and I could not help watching what was
going on, with interest. A flower-cart was drawn up at the side of the
road. Though it was scarcely yet full summer, there was a good display
of flowers, and many of those passing stopped to buy. Among these were
an old gentleman and a little boy. One could see without being told that
they were grandfather and grandson. The child said a word or two to the
gentleman, who let go his hand and walked on slowly. The little boy
waited patiently for a minute or two, till those before him round the
cart had been served, and then he came forward and made some inquiry of
the flower-woman. I could not hear what he said, but he was no doubt
asking what he could have for his money, for once or twice a shade of
disappointment crossed his bright face, and he looked doubtfully at
something he held in his hand, which I afterwards saw must have been his
few coins. I felt so sorry for him that if I had not been afraid of
giving offence, I would have offered him the little sum he was evidently
short of, but after half starting forward to do so, I drew back again.
The boy, though simply, almost poorly clad, had too much the air of a
gentleman, and so had the old grandfather, whose stooping figure I still
perceived slowly walking on in front. At last the boy, after peering all
over the flower-cart, caught sight of a little nest of
violets--sweet-scented violets--in one corner, which had been almost
hidden by the larger and more brilliant plants. His face lighted up
joyfully, as he pointed them out to the flower-woman, and she, in turn,
smiled and nodded pleasantly. Poor thing--she could not afford to lower
her prices, but the working classes in France have great sympathy with
small means a