f our religious training, of which I
have spoken before, was followed under her direction, and according to
the routine of most French schools.

The monastic rule of loud-reading during meals was observed, and l'Abbe
Millot's "Universal History," of blessed boring memory, was the dry
daily sauce to our diet. On Saturday we always had a half-holiday in the
afternoon, and the morning occupations were feminine rather than
academic.

Every girl brought into the schoolroom whatever useful needlework,
mending or making, her clothes required; and while one read aloud, the
others repaired or replenished their wardrobes.

Great was our satisfaction if we could prevail upon Mademoiselle
Descuilles herself to take the book in hand and become the "lectrice" of
the morning; greater still when we could persuade her, while intent upon
her own stitching, to sing to us, which she sometimes did, old-fashioned
French songs and ballads, of which I learnt from her and still remember
some that I have never since heard, that must have long ago died out of
the musical world and left no echo but in my memory. Of two of these I
think the words pretty enough to be worth preserving, the one for its
naive simplicity, and the other for the covert irony of its reflection
upon female constancy, to which Mademoiselle Descuilles' delivery, with
her final melancholy shrug of the shoulders, gave great effect.

LE TROUBADOUR

Un gentil Troubadour
Qui chante et fait la guerre,
Revenait chez son pere,
Revant a son amour.

Gages de sa valeur,
Suspendus a son echarpe,
Son epee, et sa harpe,
Se croisaient sur son coeur.

Il rencontre en chemin
Pelerine jolie,
Qui voyage, et qui prie,
Un rosaire a la main.

Colerette, a long plis,
Cachait sa fine taille,
Un grand chapeau de paille,
Ombrait son teint de lys.

"O gentil Troubadour,
Si tu reviens fidele,
Chante un couplet pour celle
Qui benit ton retour."

"Pardonne a mon refus
Pelerine jolie!
Sans avoir vu ma mie,
Je ne chanterai plus."

"Et ne la vois-tu pas?
O Troubadour fidele!
Regarde moi--c'est elle!
Ouvre lui donc tes bras!

"Craignant pour notre amour,
J'allais en pelerine,
A la Vierge divine
Prier pour ton retour!"

Pres des tendres amans
S'eleve une chapelle,
L'Ermite qu'on appelle,
Benit leurs doux sermens

Venez en ce