_Gaudio nostro_."

N.B.--The accent is always on the last syllable in French Latin--and
_pion_ means an usher.

[Illustration: "TOO MUCH 'MONTE CRISTO,' I'M AFRAID"]

Barty went to Yorkshire with the Rohans, and I spent most of my holidays
with my mother and sister (and the beautiful Miss ----) at Mademoiselle
Jalabert's, next door--coming back to school for most of my meals, and
at night to sleep, with a whole dormitory to myself, and no dreadful
bell at five in the morning; and so much time to spare that I never
found any leisure for my holiday task, that skeleton at the feast; no
more did Jules, the sergeant's son; no more did Caillard, who spent his
vacation at Brossard's because his parents lived in Russia, and his
"correspondant" in Paris was ill.

The only master who remained behind was Bonzig, who passed his time
painting ships and sailors, in oil-colors; it was a passion with
him: corvettes, brigantines, British whalers, fishing-smacks,
revenue-cutters, feluccas, caiques, even Chinese junks--all was fish
that came to his net. He got them all from _La France Maritime_, an
illustrated periodical much in vogue at Brossard's; and also his
storms and his calms, his rocks and piers and light-houses--for he
had never seen the sea he was so fond of. He took us every morning
to the Passy swimming-baths, and in the afternoon for long walks in
Paris, and all about and around, and especially to the Musee de
Marine at the Louvre, that we might gaze with him at the beautiful
models of three-deckers.

He evidently pitied our forlorn condition, and told us delightful
stories about seafaring life, like Mr. Clark Russell's; and how he,
some day, hoped to see the ocean for himself before he died--and
with his own eyes.

I really don't know how Jules and Caillard would have got through
the hideous _ennui_ of that idle September without him. Even I, with
my mother and sister and the beautiful Miss ---- within such easy
reach, found time hang heavily at times. One can't be always
reading, even Alexandre Dumas; nor always loafing about, even in
Paris, by one's self (Jules and Caillard were not allowed outside
the gates without Bonzig); and beautiful English girls of eighteen,
like Miss ----s, don't always want a small boy dangling after them,
and show it sometimes; which I thought very hard.

It was almost a relief when school began again in October, and the
boys came back with their wonderful stories of the good time