asked Bessie Dasher.

"Yes," said Mr Mawley, anxious, as usual, to show off his erudition,
"cows low, swallows fly near the ground, sheep bleat, and--"

"Asses bray," said I, with emphasis.

"So I hear," said he quickly. The curate was getting sharper than ever.

"Ah," said I, "_that_ is only a `tu quoque!'"

"What is that?" asked Bessie Dasher, thinking I was making use of some
term of virulent abuse, I verily believe.

"Oh!" said Mr Mawley, who was in high feather at having retorted my cut
so brilliantly, "it is only a polite way of saying `you're another,' an
expression which I dare say you have often heard vulgar little boys in
the street make use of. I say, Lorton," he added, addressing me, "I
think that's one to me, eh?"

"All right," said I, "score it up, if you like."

And, we started down the stream homeward bound.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

"GOOD-NIGHT!"

Era gia l'ora che volge 'l disio,
A' naviganti e 'ntenerisce il cuore,
Lo di ch' ban detto a' dolci amici addio,
E che lo nuova peregrin d'amore
Punge, se ode Squilla di lontano,
Che paja 'l giorno pianger che si muore!

"Parting is such sweet sorrow,
That I could say good-night till it be morrow!"

We were sitting side by side, Min and I, leaning over the gunwale of the
"gondola" which was rapidly gliding down the river; the stream being in
our favour, and our teamster on the towing path keeping his horse up to
a brisk trot, that caused us to proceed at a faster rate than we could
have pulled even a lighter boat.

It was a lovely summer night, calm and still, with hardly a breath of
wind in the air; although, it was not at all unpleasantly close or
oppressive.

A bright crescent moon was shining, touching up the trees that skirted
the bank with a flood of silvery-azure light, that brought out each twig
and particle of foliage in strong relief, and cast their trunks in
shade; while, the surface of the water, unstirred by the slightest
ripple, gleamed like a mirror of burnished steel, winding in and out, in
its serpentine course, between masses of dense shadow--until it was lost
to sight in the distance, behind a sudden bend, and a dark projecting
clump of willows and undergrowth.

Our boat seemed to be the only floating thing for miles!

Had it not been for an occasional twinkle from the far-off window of
some riparian villa, and the "whish" of a startled swan as it swerved
aside to allow the boat to sweep by, we might e