nd, I take pride in writing it, Mr. Carvel spent
much of what he had earned at Gordon's Pride in a like honourable manner.

Mr. Carvel's description of the hero's reception at Versailles is graphic
and very humorous. For all his republican principles John Paul never got
over his love of courts, and no man was ever a more thorough courtier.
He exchanged compliments with Queen Marie Antoinette, who was then in the
bloom of her beauty, and declared that she was a "good girl, and deserved
to be happy."

The unruly Simpson sailed for America in the Ranger in July, Captain
Jones being retained in France "for a particular enterprise." And
through the kindness of Dr. Franklin, Mr. Carvel remained with him. Then
followed another period of heartrending disappointment. The fine ship
the French government promised him was not forthcoming, though Captain
Jones wrote a volume of beautiful letters to every one of importance,
from her Royal Highness the Duchess of Chartres to his Most Christian
Majesty, Louis, King of France and Navarre. At length, when he was
sitting one day in unusual dejection and railing at the vanity of courts
and kings, Mr. Carvel approached him with a book in his hand.

"What have you there, Richard?" the captain demanded.

"Dr. Franklin's Maxims," replied my grandfather. They were great
favourites with him. The captain took the book and began mechanically
to turn over the pages. Suddenly he closed it with a bang, jumped up,
and put on his coat and hat. Mr. Carvel looked on in astonishment.

"Where are you going, sir?" says he.

"To Paris, sir," says the captain. "Dr. Franklin has taught me more
wisdom in a second than I had in all my life before. 'If you wish to
have any business faithfully and expeditiously performed, go and do it
yourself; otherwise, send.'"

As a result of that trip he got the Duras, which he renamed the 'Bon
homme Richard' in honour of Dr. Franklin. The Duras was an ancient
Indiaman with a high poop, which made my grandfather exclaim, when he saw
her, at the remarkable fulfilment of old Stanwix's prophecy. She was
perfectly rotten, and in the constructor's opinion not worth refitting.
Her lowest deck (too low for the purpose) was pierced aft with three
ports on a side, and six worn-out eighteen-pounders mounted there. Some
of them burst in the action, killing their people. The main battery, on
the deck above, was composed of twenty-eight twelve-pounders. On the
uncovered deck eight n