the _devoir_ of 'La Premiere Femme Savante'?"

"Do you still remember that rubbish?"

"Every line."

"I doubt you."

"I will engage to repeat it word for word."

"You would stop short at the first line."

"Challenge me to the experiment."

"I challenge you."

He proceeded to recite the following. He gave it in French, but we must
translate, on pain of being unintelligible to some readers.

* * * * *

"And it came to pass, when men began to multiply on the face of
the earth, and daughters were born unto them, that the sons
of God saw the daughters of men that they were fair; and they
took them wives of all which they chose."

This was in the dawn of time, before the morning stars were set, and
while they yet sang together.

The epoch is so remote, the mists and dewy gray of matin twilight veil
it with so vague an obscurity, that all distinct feature of custom, all
clear line of locality, evade perception and baffle research. It must
suffice to know that the world then existed; that men peopled it; that
man's nature, with its passions, sympathies, pains, and pleasures,
informed the planet and gave it soul.

A certain tribe colonized a certain spot on the globe; of what race this
tribe--unknown; in what region that spot--untold. We usually think of
the East when we refer to transactions of that date; but who shall
declare that there was no life in the West, the South, the North? What
is to disprove that this tribe, instead of camping under palm groves in
Asia, wandered beneath island oak woods rooted in our own seas of
Europe?

It is no sandy plain, nor any circumscribed and scant oasis I seem to
realize. A forest valley, with rocky sides and brown profundity of
shade, formed by tree crowding on tree, descends deep before me. Here,
indeed, dwell human beings, but so few, and in alleys so thick branched
and overarched, they are neither heard nor seen. Are they savage?
Doubtless. They live by the crook and the bow; half shepherds, half
hunters, their flocks wander wild as their prey. Are they happy? No, not
more happy than we are at this day. Are they good? No, not better than
ourselves. Their nature is our nature--human both. There is one in this
tribe too often miserable--a child bereaved of both parents. None cares
for this child. She is fed sometimes, but oftener forgotten. A hut
rarely receives her; the hollow tree and chill cavern are her home.