seldom separated. I have an
example of this in my own family. A few days ago a great-grandniece
was sent to me, a child under ten years old, that has no other
relative. She is as tawny as a frog, as scraggy as a spider, yet,
withal, as cunning as an ape, and as learned as a book. Judge for
yourself, sire; here is my little monster coming to salute you."

Bizarre turned his head and saw a child that answered in every respect
to the countess's description. With a high, round forehead, black,
wild-looking eyes, rough hair turned back in the Chinese fashion,
dull, brown skin, great white teeth, red hands, and long arms, she was
anything but a beauty. But the chrysalis gives birth to the butterfly.
Wait a few years, and you will see what pretty women come from these
frightful little girls of ten.

The little monster approached the king, and courtesied to him with so
serious an air that Bizarre could not help laughing, though he felt
little like it.

"Who are you?" asked he, chucking the child under the chin.

"Sire," she answered, gravely, "I am Donna Dolores Rosario Coral
Concha Balthazara Melchiora Gaspara y Todos Santos, the daughter of
the noble knight Don Pasquale Bartolomeo Francesco de Asiz y--"

"Enough," said the king. "I did not ask for your genealogy; we are
witnessing neither your baptism nor your marriage. What are you
commonly called?"

"Sire," replied she, "I am called Pazza."[1]

[Footnote 1: That is to say, Madcap, in Italian. It appears that a
very mixed language is spoken in the kingdom of Wild Oats.]

"And why are you called Pazza?"

"Because it is not my name."

"That is strange," said the king.

"No, it is natural," replied the child. "My aunt pretends that I am
too giddy for any saint to wish to own me for her goddaughter, and
that is why she has given me a name that can offend no one in
Paradise."

"Well answered, my child. I see that you are not an ordinary girl. The
saints in Paradise are not always treated with such consideration.
Since you know so much, tell me what is a wise man?"

"A wise man, sire, is one who knows what he says when he speaks, and
what he does when he acts."

"Upon my word," exclaimed the king, "if my wise men were what you
fancied them, I would make the Academy of Sciences my council of
state, and would give it my kingdom to govern. What is an ignorant
man?"

"Sire," returned Pazza, "there are three kinds of ignorant men: he
who knows nothing, he who talks