on board our
ship; 'I'll teach you how to wing the frog-eater. Wing him, my boy! Wing
him! I've done the trick a dozen times!'

"Next morning the Doctor, Tom Wallace, our purser, and myself drove to
the place appointed for the meeting, and found the French party already
on the ground.

"'Cheer up, Dan,' said my second, 'and remember, aim for his left
shoulder. You'll wing him like a pigeon. Those Frenchmen know nothing of
fire-arms.'

"The preliminaries over, we took our positions. I must confess I was
terribly nervous; but while I intended to merely wound my adversary, I
determined to follow the advice of the Doctor, and 'aim for the left
shoulder.'

"'Are you ready?'

"'Ready.'

"'Fire.'

"'One.'

"'Two.'

"'Three.'

"It had been arranged that we should fire between the words 'One' and
'Three;' and as the word 'Two' was on the lips of the second, I fired.

"'Oh, _mon Dieu!_' cried my opponent, falling bleeding into the arms of
his second, as the bullet from his pistol almost grazed my cheek.

"'_Parbleu!_ He is dying--shot through the heart. You are a surgeon; can
you do anything for him?' said I, appealing to my friend, the Doctor.

"'No, my lad,' said he; 'you aimed too low.'

"'This is terrible,' I cried, now for the first time realizing the awful
position in which I was placed. 'What can we do?'

"'Get across the frontier as soon as possible,' was the advice of the
old Frenchman's second.

"'Our ship sails at noon,' said the Doctor.

"I advanced to the dying man, whose life-blood was pouring from his
side, and with tears streaming down my face, begged his forgiveness. He
opened his poor, sad eyes, now almost glazed in death.

"'Oh, speak to me!' cried I, 'if only one word. I would give the world
to recall this wicked duel. Is there anything on earth that I can do
for you or yours? Tell me, and on the honor of an English gentleman, I
will do as you command.'

"'Ah, my young friend,' said the dying man, 'I feel that I have but a
few minutes to live. I am dying even while I speak; but I shall die
perfectly happy if you will tell me whether _zat was your breakfast or
your dinnaire_?'"

WILLIAM J. FLORENCE.

[Footnote A: From "Florence Fables," by William J. Florence (Comedian),
just published by Belford, Clarke & Co. Copyrighted, 1888.]

"_FORGET-ME-NOT._"

"Forget--forget me not!"
Vain, piteous human prayer!
We all are doomed to be forgot;
It is, alas! the commo