hope deferred. One day in September, 1681, Louvois said,
'Young man, post yourself at Bale on the 18th day of this month, from
noon to four o'clock: stand on the bridge; take a note of all you see,
without the least omission; come back and report to me; and as you
acquit yourself so your future shall be.' The young chevalier found
himself on the bridge at Bale at high noon. He expected to meet some
deputation from the Swiss cantons, with the great landamman at the head.
What he really saw were carts, villagers, flocks of sheep, children who
chased each other, mendicants who, with Swiss independence, demanded
alms rather than begged it. He gave to each, imagining in each a
mysterious agent. An old woman crossing the bridge on a bucking donkey,
who threw her, he picked up obsequiously, not knowing but this fall
might be a manoeuvre of state, and the precipitate take the form of
the landamman in disguise: he had even the idea of running after the
donkey, but the animal was already galloping with great relish outside
the assigned limits to his diplomacy. When tired of the sun, the dust
and the triviality of the panorama, Chamilly prepared to go. It was
nearing the hour fixed for his departure, and the absence of all
significant events vexed him. As if to put a crown on his discomfiture,
toward the close of the last hour an odd little urchin, grotesquely
dressed in a yellow coat, came to beat old blankets over the parapet,
and flirted the dirt and fluff into the young man's eyes. Already
angered, he was about to hang the young imp for a minute or two over the
bridge, when four o'clock sounded, his duty came to his mind, and he
departed.

[Illustration: THE LITTLE IMP IN YELLOW]

[Illustration: "THE TRAIN IS STARTING"]

"In the middle of the third night, tired and humiliated, he reappeared
before the minister and recounted his failure. When he came to the
little page in yellow, Louvois fell on his neck and kissed him. Chamilly
was dragged incontinently before the king. Louis XIV., who was snoring
with his royal nose in the air, was waked for the purpose, and heard
with attention the story of the beggars, the donkey and the little
monkey in yellow livery. At the apparition of the Yellow Jacket, Louis
XIV. leaped over the _ruelle_ and danced a saraband in his night-gown.
Chamilly might perhaps have considered himself sufficiently rewarded in
being the only man who ever saw the superb king dancing with bare legs
in a wig has