g voice, that
would have been very pleasant if it had not gone a little through
the nose; and past Mrs. Bunker there walked into the full light a
little boy, a year or two older than Lucy, holding out one hand as
he saw her and taking off his hat with the other. "Good morning,"
he said, quite at ease; "is this where you live?"

"Good morning," returned Lucy though it was not morning at all; "where
do you come from?"

"Well, I'm from Paris last; but when I'm at home, I'm at Boston. I
am Leonidas Saunders, of the great American Republic."

"Oh, then you are not real, after all?"

"Real! I should hope I was a genuine article."

"Well, I was in hopes that you were real, only you say you come from
a strange country, like the rest of them, and yet you look just like
an English boy."

"Of course I do! my grandfather came from England," said Leonidas; "we
all speak English as well, or better, than you do in the old country."

"I can't understand it!" said Lucy; "did you come like other people,
by the train, not like the children in my dreams?"

And then Leonidas explained all about it to her: how his father had
brought him last year to Europe and had put him to school at Paris;
but when the war broke out, and most of the stranger scholars were
taken away, no orders came about him, because his father was a
merchant and was away from home, so that no one ever knew whether
the letters had reached him.

So Leonidas had gone on at school without many tasks to learn, to be
sure, but not very comfortable: it was so cold, and there was no wood
to burn; and he disliked eating horses and cats and rats, quite as
much as Coralie did, though he was not in a part of the town where
so many shells from the cannons came in.

At last when Lucy's uncle and some other good gentlemen with the red
cross on their sleeves, obtained leave to enter Paris and take some
relief to the poor, sick people in the hospitals, the people Leonidas
was with, told the gentleman that there was a little American left
behind in their house.

Mr. Seaman, which was Uncle Joe's name, went to see about him, and
found that he had once known his father. So, after a great deal of
trouble, it had been managed that the boy should be allowed to leave
the city. He had been driven in a coach, he told Lucy, with some
more Americans and English, and with flags with stars and stripes
or else Union Jacks all over it; and whenever they came to a French
sentry, or a