is all one. Is that quite kind to the Republic? Should
not her French children, on their part, show filial devotion to the fond
government?

"_Mais_," M. Sorel swiftly explains, "they are weary of going; they
understand nothing. One sits and smokes a little while, and one talks;
then one puts a little ticket into one's hand; one is jammed into a
long file; one slips his ticket into a box; he knows not for whom he is
voting; it is like a flock of sheep. What is the use of going?"

Ah! that is the trouble? Then they are unjustly reproached. The
government has indeed neglected to guide them. But suppose that some
officer of the government--Mr. Fox himself, for instance--will be at the
meeting? Then can M. Sorel induce those good French citizens to come?

Induce them! They will be only too ready; in fact, at a word from M.
Sorel, and particularly when the news of this great honor to Fidele
shall have spread abroad, twenty, thirty, forty will go to every
meeting,--that is, if a friend be there to guide them. At the very next
meeting, _monsieur_ shall see whether the great government's French
children are neglectful!

Whereupon the great government, in the person of Mr. Fox, then and
there falls in spirit upon the neck of her French citizen-children,
represented by Sorel and Fidele, and full reconciliation is made.

Yes, Mr. Fox will come again. M. Sorel must introduce him to those brave
Frenchmen, his friends and neighbors; Mr. Fox must grasp them by
the hand, one by one. Sorel must take him to the _Societe des
Franco-Americains_, where they gather. The government wishes to know
them better. And (this in a confidential whisper) there may be other
places to be filled. What! Suppose, now, that the government should some
day demand the services of M. Sorel himself in the custom-house; and,
since he is a business man, at a still larger salary than a thousand
dollars a year!

"Ah, _monsieur_" (in a tone of playful reproach), "_vous etes un
flatteur, n'est ce pas?_ You know,--I guess you giv'n' me taffy."

Such a hero as Fidele is! No more balloons, no more carting about of
"_ma musique_;" a square room upstairs, a bottle of wine at dinner,
short hours, distinction,--in fine, all that the heart can wish.

I have been speaking in the present: I should have spoken in the past.

It was shortly after Fidele's appointment--in the early autumn--that I
first made his and Sorel's acquaintance.

I was teaching in an evening scho