ng along the yellow beach, or standing storm-lashed on some lone
rock, with your favorite pet seal at your feet.'"

"Is the gentleman an idiot, or is he only ignorant?" broke in my father.

My mother gave a glance of half-angry astonishment, and resumed: "'A
thousand pardons, ma chere et bonne; but, with my habitual carelessness,
I have been looking at Iceland, and not Ireland, on the map. You will
laugh, I'm certain; but confess how natural was the mistake, how similar
the names, how like are they, perhaps, in other respects. At all events,
I cannot alter what I have written; it shall go, if only to let you have
one more laugh at that silly Emile, whose blunders have so often amused
you. Pray do not tell your "dear husband" of my mistake, lest his
offended nationality should take umbrage; and I am resolved--yes,
Fifine, I am determined on his liking me.'"

My father's face assumed an expression here that was far too much for
MacNaghten's gravity; but my mother read on, unconcerned: "'And now I
have but to say when I shall be with you. It may be about the 12th--not
later than the 20th--of next month. I shall take no one but Francois
with me; I shall not even bring the dogs, only Jocasse, my monkey,--for
whom, by the way, I beg to bespeak a quiet room, with a south aspect.
I hope the climate will not injure him; but Dr. Reynault has given me
numerous directions about his clothing, and a receipt for a white wine
posset that he assures me will be very bracing to his nervous system.
You have no idea how susceptible he has grown latterly about noise
and tumult. The canaille have taken to parade the streets, singing and
shouting their odious songs, and Jocasse has suffered much from the
disturbance. I mentioned the fact to M. Mirabeau, whom I met at your
aunt's the other night, and he remarked gravely, "It's a bad time for
monkeys just now,--'singerie' has had its day." The expression struck
me as a very hollow, if not a very heartless,' one; but I may say, en
passant, that this same M. Mirabeau, whom it is the fashion to think
clever and agreeable, is only abrupt and rude, with courage to say the
coarse things that good-breeding retreats from! I am glad to find
how thoroughly the Court dislikes him. They say that he has had the
effrontery to tell the King the most disagreeable stories about popular
discontent, distress, and so forth. I need scarcely say that he met the
dignified rebuke such underbred observations merited.