discarded
in favor of your profane and foolish teachings. He is as bad as the
'Vert-vert' of Voltaire. I shall have to expel him soon, I fear."

"Danton, how can you so grieve your mistress?" remonstrated Major
Favraud, lifting at the same time an admonitory finger, at which
recognized signal, a part of past instructions probably, the parrot
burst forth at once in a series of the most grotesque and _outre_ oaths
ear ever heard, ending (by the aid of some prompting from his teacher)
by dismally croaking the fragment of a popular song thus travestied:

"My ole mistis dead and gone,
She lef to me her ole jawbone.
Says she, 'Charge up in dem yaller pines,
And slay dem Yankee Philistines!'"--

ending with the invariable _"Bon jour_," or "_Bienvenu, compatriote"_
and demoniac "Ha! ha! ha!"

"The memory of the creature is perfectly wonderful," I said. "Many
parrots have I seen, but never one like this before. It must have sprung
out of the Arabian Nights."

"I can teach any thing to every thing," digressed Major Favraud, "and
without severity; it is my specialty. I was meant for a trainer of
beasts, probably. I will get up an entertainment, I believe, in
opposition to the industrious fleas, called the 'Desperate Doves,' and
teach pigeons to muster, drill, and go through all the military motions.
I could do it easily, and so repair my broken fortunes. I have one
already at home that feigns death at the word of command. I have amused
myself for hours at a time with this bird.--Don't say a word, Miss
Harz," speaking low, "I see what you think of it all, but I have had to
cheat misery some way or other. It was a wretched device and waste of
existence, though. And when I see that great, distinguished man, who had
such hopes of me as a boy, I feel that I could creep into an auger-hole
for sheer shame of my extinguished promise."

"Not extinguished!" I murmured, "only under a cloud, still destined to
be fulfilled."

"Only in the grave," he said, sadly, "with the promise common to all
mankind;" and thus by gloomy glimpses I caught the truth.

We staid that night at the house of an aunt of Madame La Vigne's, who
received us cordially, entertained us sumptuously, and dismissed us
graciously.

The next morning at sunrise we again set out for Savannah, into which
city we entered before the noonday heat, finding cool shelter and warm
welcome at once under the roof of General Curzon, the South's most
polished g