ashed walls and old-fashioned wainscoting, I
always looked eagerly for my butterfly-net that was usually to be found
hanging in the place where I had left it, ready for the next day's
chase.

After dinner it was our custom to go to the foot of the garden, and
there we sat in an arbor that was built against the old wall encircling
the yard,--this bower faced away from the unfriendly darkness of the
woods where the owls hooted. And while we were seated in the beautiful,
mild, star-bespangled night, suddenly upon the air, musical with
the chirping of myriad crickets, there was heard the tolling of a
bell,--heard very clearly by us although it came from afar off,--it was
the church bell in the village announcing the evening service.

Oh! the vesper bell of Enchillais heard in that beautiful garden long
ago! Oh! the sound of that bell, a little cracked but still silvery,
like the once beautiful voices of very old people which still retain
something of their sweetness. What charm of past times, and half sad
meditations of peaceful death, were awakened by that music which spread
itself into the limpid darkness of the surrounding country! And we heard
the bell chiming for a long time, but its sound reached us fitfully;
one while it seemed to be near, and then again it seemed far away, as it
obeyed the will of the soft night wind that was stirring. I bethought
me of all those who, on their lonely farms, were listening to it; I
bethought me, too, of all the unpeopled places round about where it
would be heard by no one, and a shudder passed through me at the thought
of the near-by forest, where the sweet vibrations of the bell would die.

The municipal council, composed of very superior spirits, after having
first put its everlasting tri-colored flag upon the steeple of the
little Roman Catholic Church, then suppressed its vesper bell. Its day
is done; and we shall never again, upon summer evenings, hear that call
to prayers.

Going to bed there was always a very enlivening proceeding, especially
when there was the prospect of a whole Thursday of play before me. I
would, I am sure, have been very much afraid in the guest chamber,
which was on the ground floor of the great, isolated house; but until my
twelfth year I slept on the floor above, in the spacious room occupied
by Lucette's mother;--with the aid of screens they had made for me a
little room of my own. In this retreat there was a book-case with glass
doors that belon