the
street and fed me when I was hungry."

'"I see; and he has made a fine scene of it, and you have paid him, I
suppose. Meantime, France waits."

'"Oh! poor France!" says Talleyrand. "Good-bye, Candide," he says to me.
"By the way," he says, "have you yet got Red Jacket's permission to
tell me what the President said to his Cabinet after Monsieur Genet rode
away?"

'I couldn't speak, I could only shake my head, and Boney--so impatient
he was to go on with his doings--he ran at me and fair pushed me out of
the room. And that was all there was to it.' Pharaoh stood up and slid
his fiddle into one of his big skirt-pockets as though it were a dead
hare.

'Oh! but we want to know lots and lots more,'said Dan. 'How you got
home--and what old Maingon said on the barge--and wasn't your cousin
surprised when he had to give back the BERTHE AURETTE, and--'

'Tell us more about Toby!' cried Una.

'Yes, and Red Jacket,' said Dan.

'Won't you tell us any more?' they both pleaded.

Puck kicked the oak branch on the fire, till it sent up a column of
smoke that made them sneeze. When they had finished the Shaw was empty
except for old Hobden stamping through the larches.

'They gipsies have took two,' he said. 'My black pullet and my liddle
gingy-speckled cockrel.'

'I thought so,' said Dan, picking up one tail-feather that the old woman
had overlooked.

'Which way did they go? Which way did the runagates go?' said Hobden.

'Hobby!' said Una. 'Would you like it if we told Keeper Ridley all your
goings and comings?'

'Poor Honest Men'

Your jar of Virginny
Will cost you a guinea,
Which you reckon too much by five shilling or ten;
But light your churchwarden
And judge it accordin'
When I've told you the troubles of poor honest men.

From the Capes of the Delaware,
As you are well aware,
We sail with tobacco for England--but then
Our own British cruisers,
They watch us come through, sirs,
And they press half a score of us poor honest men.

Or if by quick sailing
(Thick weather prevailing)
We leave them behind (as we do now and then)
We are sure of a gun from
Each frigate we run from,
Which is often destruction to poor honest men!

Broadsides the Atlantic
We tumble short-handed,
With shot-holes to plug and new canvas to bend,
And off the Azores,
Dutch, Dons and Monsieurs
Are wa