floor, and when a maid servant had opened
the door, he asked: "Does Monsieur Flamel live here?" "Yes, monsieur.
Kindly come in."

He was shown into the drawing-room; he was alone, and waited, feeling
bewildered, as in the midst of a catastrophe, until a door opened, and a
man came in. He was tall, serious and rather stout, and wore a black
frock coat, and pointed to a chair with his hand. Francois Tessier sat
down, and then said, with choking breath: "Monsieur--monsieur--I do not
know whether you know my name--whether you know----"

Monsieur Flamel interrupted him. "You need not tell it me, monsieur, I
know it. My wife has spoken to me about you." He spoke in the dignified
tone of voice of a good man who wishes to be severe, and with the
commonplace stateliness of an honorable man, and Francois Tessier
continued:

"Well, monsieur, I want to say this: I am dying of grief, of remorse, of
shame, and I would like once, only once to kiss the child."

Monsieur Flamel got up and rang the bell, and when the servant came in,
he said: "Will you bring Louis here?" When she had gone out, they
remained face to face, without speaking, as they had nothing more to say
to one another, and waited. Then, suddenly, a little boy of ten rushed
into the room and ran up to the man whom he believed to be his father,
but he stopped when he saw the stranger, and Monsieur Flamel kissed him
and said: "Now, go and kiss that gentleman, my dear." And the child went
up to the stranger and looked at him.

Francois Tessier had risen. He let his hat fall, and was ready to fall
himself as he looked at his son, while Monsieur Flamel had turned away,
from a feeling of delicacy, and was looking out of the window.

The child waited in surprise; but he picked up the hat and gave it to the
stranger. Then Francois, taking the child up in his arms, began to kiss
him wildly all over his face; on his eyes, his cheeks, his mouth, his
hair; and the youngster, frightened at the shower of kisses, tried to
avoid them, turned away his head, and pushed away the man's face with his
little hands. But suddenly Francois Tessier put him down and cried:
"Good-by! good-by!" And he rushed out of the room as if he had been a
thief.

MY UNCLE SOSTHENES

Some people are Freethinkers from sheer stupidity. My Uncle Sosthenes was
one of these. Some people are often religious for the same reason. The
very sight of a priest threw my uncle into a violent rage. He would shake