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"My opinion?" said Richling, with a smile. "My opinion is that the Parish Prison would not be a good place to raise a family." Narcisse laughed. "I thing yo' opinion is co'ect," he said, flatteringly; then growing instantly serious, he added, "Yesseh, I think you' about a-'ight, Mistoo Itchlin; faw even if 'twas not too 'umid, 'twould be too confining, in fact, speshly faw child'en.
A smile broke from the visitor's face unbidden, but "Right! my chile! co'ect, Toutou!" cried Bonaventure, running and patting the little hero on the back and head by turns. "Sir, let us" He stopped short. The eyes of the house were on Chat-oué. He had risen to his feet and made a gesture for the visitor's attention. As the stranger looked at him he asked: "He spell dat las word r-i-i-ight?"
Mah-ooseh!" and Crébiche, a speaking statue, spelled: "M-o-u-eth-e, mouthe." "Co'ect, my chile! And yet, sir, and yet, 'tis he that they call Crébiche, because like the crawfish advancing backwardly. But to the next! another word! another word!" The spelling, its excitements, its moments of agonizing suspense, and its triumphs, went on. The second class is up.
"Yo' mighty co'ect, Misses Wiley!" Narcisse gave his pretty head a little shake from side to side as he spoke. "Ah! Mr. Narcisse," she pointed at herself, "haven't I been a wife? The husband and wife they'd aht to jist be each other's guairdjian angels! Hairt to hairt sur; sperit to sperit. All the rist is nawthing, Mister Narcisse." She waved her hands. "Min is different from women, sur."
In fact, Mistoo Itchlin, thass a thing I have discovud, that too much coffee millytates ag'inst the chi'og'aphy; and thus I abstain. Well, seh, ole Abe is elected." "Yes," rejoined Richling, "and there's no telling what the result will be." "You co'ect, Mistoo Itchlin." Narcisse tried to look troubled. "I've got a bit of private news that I don't think you've heard," said Richling.
"Well, I am compel' to say you ah co'ect. I am continually makin' some discove'ies. 'Necessity's the motheh of inventions. Now thass anotheh thing I 'ave notiz about that month of Octobeh: it always come befo' you think it's comin'. I 'ave notiz that about eve'y month. Now, to-day we ah the twennieth Octobeh! Is it not so?" He lighted his cigarette. "You ah compel' to co'obo'ate me."
"Name any class, exclusively at random, and you shall see with what promptness and quietude the chil'run shall take each one their exactly co'ect places." "Oh, I understand. You want me to designate" "Any class! at yo' caprice." "Well, if you have third class in geography." "Or spelling?" cried Bonaventure, a momentary look of dismay giving place to fresh enthusiasm. "Yes spell I meant spelling."
Narcisse looked at him a moment with a slightly searching glance, dropped his eyes upon his own beautiful feet, and said, in a meditative tone: "I believe you co'ect." But his smile was gone, and Richling saw he had ventured too far. "I wish my wife were here," said Richling; "she might give you better advice than I." "Yes," replied Narcisse, "I believe you co'ect ag'in, Mistoo Itchlin.