eals away the little troublesome bundle of life with solemn eye and
hushed lip, that we have time to pause, to look, to grieve.

This little Jacques, when I came to his father's house, was a rampant,
noisy, cunning child, with the vivacity of French and American blood
mingling in his veins, and filling him with strongest tendencies to
mischief, and prompting elfish feats of activity. He was not by any
means a fascinating child,--in fact, no children ever fascinated
me,--but this little fellow was rather disagreeable, a wonder to his
father, a horror to his mother, and a great annoyance generally;
we were all rather cross with him, and he was universally put down,
thrust aside, and ordered out of the way.

This was the state of affairs when I came. It was little Jacques, with
a high forehead, white, tightly curling hair, and mischief-full blue
eye, who made himself translator of all imaginable inquisitorial
French phrases for my benefit,--who questioned, and tormented,
and made faces at me,--who pulled my apron, disappeared with my
carpet-bag, and placed a generous slice of molasses-candy upon the
seat of my chair, when I sat down to rest myself.

Little Jacques ardently loved a sly fishing-expedition on the edge
of the marble fountain-basin, and had lured one or two unthinking
gold-fish to destruction with fly and a crooked pin. He would sit
perched up there at an odd chance, when his father was away, and he
dared venture into the saloon,--his little bare feet twinkling against
the water, his plump figure curled up into the minutest size, but
ready for a spring and a dart up-stairs at the shortest notice of
danger. This piscatory propensity had been severely punished by both
Monsieur and Madame C----, who could not afford to encourage such an
expensive Izaak Walton; but there was no managing the child. He
seemed to possess an impish capability of eluding detection and angry
denunciations. To be sure, circumstances were against any very strict
guard being kept over the youngster. Madame C---- was a very weak
woman, a very weak woman indeed,--she declared that such was the
case,--a nervous, dispirited woman, whom everything troubled, who
could not bear the noise and tramp of life, and altogether sank under
it. Destiny had had no mercy on her weakness, however, and had left
her to get along with an innumerable family of children, a philosophic
husband, who took all her troubles coolly, and a constant demand
for her serv