ugh habitually silent he possesses a rare
good sense; and when he offers his advice upon any question, it is
usually received with respect by the others. Such is the secret
influence of intellect and education.

Next and last, we have Francois, a quick-witted, curly-haired urchin--
merry to madness--cheerful at all times--changeable in his tastes and
likings--versatile in talents--in short, more of a Frenchman than any of
them. Francois is a great bird-catcher. He is at this moment engaged
in repairing his nets; and his double-barrel shot gun, which he has just
finished cleaning, rests beside him. Francois is a favourite with
everybody, but a great pest to Hugot, upon whom he plays numerous
tricks.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

While the naturalist and his family were thus engaged, a loud booming
noise was heard at some distance off, down the river. It somewhat
resembled the regular firing of great guns, though the explosions
sounded softer and more hollow.

"A steamboat!" cried Francois, whose ear first caught the sounds.

"Yes," muttered Basil, "from New Orleans, I expect, and bound to Saint
Louis."

"No, brother," said Lucien, quietly raising himself from his book. "She
is an Ohio boat."

"How can you tell that, Luce?" inquired Francois.

"From the sound of her 'scape, of course. I can distinguish the boat.
She is the `Buck-eye'--mail-boat for Cincinnati."

In a short time the white cloud of steam was seen ascending over the
trees; and then the huge vessel came "bulging" around a bend of the
river, cleaving the brown current as she went. She was soon opposite
the lawn; and, sure enough, proved to be what Lucien had said she was--
the mail-steamer "Buck-eye." This was a triumph for Lucien, although he
bore it with characteristic modesty.

The boat had not passed many minutes, when the loud screeching of her
steam was heard in the direction of Point Coupee. They could tell from
this that she was putting in at the landing.

"Hugot!" cried the Colonel, "their may be something for us. Go and
see."

Without waiting for further orders, Hugot started on his errand. He was
a brisk walker, Hugot; and was back again in a trice. He brought with
him a letter of goodly size and appearance.

"From Prince Lucien!" cried Francois, who was sure to have the first
word in everything. "It is from the Prince, papa; I know the seal."

"Quiet, Francois! quiet!" sai