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Some insistent ones pounded on the door of a restaurant far in the distance. "Dites donc, patron! Nous avons faim, nom de Dieu! Est-ce-que tout le monde est mort ici?" "Only a host of phantom listeners, That dwelt in the lone house then, Stood listening in the quiet of the moonlight To that voice from the world of men." It was that kind of silence, profound, tense, ghostlike.

As such a contingency is certain to occur twice or thrice in the course of the narrative, a nervous reader is spared much anxiety and trouble of mind by this satisfactory arrangement. Nous avons changé tout cela. Modern refinement requires that the chief character shall be made interesting in spite of his being dwarfish, plain-featured, and a victim to pulmonary or some more prosaic disease.

How many chemises have I, Frederic?" "Eh, parbleu, Monsieur le Vicomte sait bien que nous avons toujours vingt-quatre chemises," says Frederic, grumbling. Monsieur le Vicomte springs up shrieking from the dinner-table. "Twenty-four shirts," says he, "and I have been a week without a louis in my pocket! Belitre! Nigaud!"

At that time there was indeed no enemy to female chastity like the former article of man-millinery: the delicate whiteness of the glove, the starry splendour of the fringe, were irresistible, and the fair Adorna, in poor Lee's tragedy of "Caesar Borgia," is far from the only lady who has been killed by a pair of gloves. * Thank Heaven, for the honour of literature, nous avons change tout cela!

"O Marie," they ended, "conçue sans péché, priez pour nous qui avons recours a vous!" As I dressed again after the bath, I had one more sight of the young man. He was being led out by a kindly attendant, but his face was all distorted with crying, and from his blind eyes ran down a stream of terrible tears. It is unnecessary to say that I said a "Hail Mary" for his soul at least.

After some interval he returned, heaved a heavy sigh, and in a voice of deep depression, said to the Diplomatic table: Eh bien Messieurs nous avons une fille! It was appalling. No one in Montenegro, it would appear, had thought such a catastrophe even possible. To the Montenegrin the birth of a daughter was a misfortune. "You feed your son for yourself. You feed your daughter for another man."

«Sur la droite du village de Hospital est un vallon que nous avons visité jusqu'au village de Zum-d'Orff,

Not so with me, and my anxiety was only calmed after receiving the assurance that he had felt perfectly comfortable the whole way. His daughter wrote to him: "MON CHER PAPA, Nous avons ete bien heureux d'apprendre que tu as ete 'si grand garcon' comme dit Bonne-maman. Ta temerite nous a tous etonnes et nous a fait plaisir en meme temps.

But we were far too hungry to wait, and before the omelettes arrived we had cleared a great plate of cakes. After weeks of indifferent trench cooking the first well-done omelette is a great joy, and, as I put down my fork, I glanced inquiry at Baker. "Rather," he answered to my unspoken question. "Mademoiselle, encore deux omelettes, s'il vous plait," I ordered. "Nous avons une faim de loup."

The meeting was joyful, and Newton was delighted that circumstances had enabled him to render assistance to those who had been so kind to him in his former distress. "Oh! Monsieur Nu-tong, nous avons tant soufferts!