r their fathers and mothers.

"Friends and fellow-citizens of Gran' Point', think not at the
suppi-zing goodness of yo' chil'run' reading. 'Tis to this branch has
been given the largest attention and most as_sid_u'ty, so thus to
comprise puffection in the English tongue, whether speaking aw
otherwise." He turned to the stranger beside him. "I am not satisfied
whilst the slightest accent of French is remaining. But you shall
judge if they read not as if in their own vernaculary. And you shall
choose the piece!"

The visitor waived the privilege, but Bonaventure gently insisted, and
he selected Jane Taylor's little poem, "The Violet," glancing across
at Sidonie as he himself read out the first two lines:--

"Down in a green and shady bed
A modest violet grew."

Bonaventure proclaimed the title and page and said:--

"Claude, p'oceed!" And Claude read:--

"'Dthee vy--ee-lit. Dah-oon-a hin hay grin and-a shad-y bade--A
mo-dest-a vy-ee-lit gr[)o]o--Hits-a stallk whoz baint hit hawngg-a
hits hade--Has hif-a too hah-ed-a frawm ve-[)o]o. Hand h-yet it whoz a
lo-vly flow'r--Hits-a co-lors-a brah-eet and fair-a--Heet maheet-a
h[=a]ve grass-ed a rozzy bow'r--Heenstade-a hof hah-ee-dingg there"--

"Stop!" cried Bonaventure; "stop! You pronounciate' a word faultily!"
He turned to the visitor. "I call not that a miss; but we must
inoculate the idea of puffection. So soon the sly-y-test
misp'onounciating I pass to the next." He turned again: "Next!" And a
black-haired girl began in a higher key, and very slowly:--

"Yate there eet whoz cawntaint-a too bulloom--Heen mo-dest-a teent
z-arrayed--And there-a heet sprade-a heets swit pre-fume-a--Whit-hin
thee sy-y-lent-a shade"--

"Stop! Not that you mistook, but--'tis enough. Sir, will you give
yourself the pain to tell--not for my sake or reputation, but to the
encouragement of the chil'run, and devoid flattery--what is yo'
opinion of that specimen of reading? Not t'oubling you, but, in two or
three word' only--if you will give yo'self the pain"--

"Why, certainly; I think it is--I can hardly find words--it's
remarkable." Bonaventure started with joy.

"Chil'run, do you hear? Remawkable! But do you not detect no
slight--no small faultiness of p'onounciating?"

"No, not the slightest; I smile, but I was thinking of something
else." The visitor's eye, wandering a trifle, caught Chat-oue giving
him one black look that removed his disposition to smile, yet he
insisted