smoothing of hair with little pocket-brushes
that had looking-glasses in their backs, and
a tying on of bits of ribbon under the plain
white collars common to us all. One girl was
being treated medically fur a pain at the heart,
which we discussed in our own conclaves,
and traced very distinctly to Monsieur de
Lamière.

M. de Lamière, by the by, was our instructor
in the art of literary composition; and he set
us such graceful themes for essays—If I
were a bird—A cross on the billows,—and
such topics to promote the sprouting of our
early sentiment! Indeed, few of the young
French ladies did not profess some sort of
heartache caused by the last gentil petit blond
that had looked at them. Make love to them
nobody did till a week or two before they
were married. The prettiest remained at
school till sixteen or seventeen; and then,
some day they were sent for, shown their
intended husbands, courted, and married at a
fortnight's notice. They desired no more.
Two or three soft words turned their heads.
Let the man be gentil and the trousseau
magnifique; let them be able to declare
them so to all their schoolfellows, when they
came in their most gorgeous bridal array
among distinguished visitors on the occasion
of the next breaking-up of the half year at
Madame Grondet's, and then all was well, all
was divine.

However, let me go back to our professors.
There was clever, kind old Monsieur Juton,
who taught reading, and read Esther, Athalie,
or Phèdre (with the part of Phèdre omitted,
by desire), with all genial enthusiasm, until long
after he ought to have left off. His was an
evening lesson; and the pleasant hum of his
voice used to transgress, and we were glad
when it did transgress beyond the borders
of our bed-time.

Our dancing master was Monsieur Petitpieds,
a large man with a small fiddle. He
could never have shrunk into his boots, for he
allowed himself only a thimbleful of leather
to six slippersful of feet. He believed that
the whole duty of man was fulfilled by
himself, and that the whole duty of woman was
to move as he moved. Upon this subject his
feelings were acutely sensitive, and we girls
appeared to use our arms and feet only for
the purpose of putting him to constant and
excruciating torture. When we danced out of
time he declared himself to be in a state of
desperation; when we rested one leg by
shitting our whole weight to the other, he
said that we took him off his hinges; when we
turned in our toes, he groaned and hit himself
on the head in a frantic manner with his
fiddle.

In the few moments of pleased excitement
that fell to his lot, he called us his little cats.
We had always on entering to make him our
most fascinating bow, which he always
returned with imposing dignity. We had
also at times to curtsey to a row ot chairs,
which were supposed to be Queen Marie
Amelie, and three or four other persons of
distinction; the great stove, the black board, the
benches, and the lamp, standing about as an
admiring throng. On these occasions
Monsieur Petitpieds would whisper his instructions,
as if afraid lest the stove or one of the
chairs would hear his prompting: "Softly,
softly," he would say, with the greatest
excitement in his manner. "Gracefully! Now
then, my little cat.—Oh! oh! oh!—Oh! you
are killing me!"

Of the whole system of education, I need
only say that it was oral, aided by the black
board and chalk, by our note-taking, and by
three or four thin books of dates and names.
Music was well taught by ladies well qualified
to teach, and charged at an extra rate when
taught by masters. France was, of course,
regarded as the only country which afforded
subject-matter for the study of geography,
the other countries deserving no more than a
passing-glance. Among them, England was
particularly execrated by the French girls,
for containing such unpronouncable towns as
Portsmouse and Plymouse. Scotland fared
worse; but the subject of Ireland was
exhausted by whomsoever learnt that Dublin was
its capital. Six slips of paper found at the
beginning of the half year fastened in each
girl's desk, mapped out her routine of work
for each of the six days of the week. We
worked cheerfully enough, and there were
three competitions every year for prizes. Upon
such topics I need say no more.

I have touched upon the way in which many
of us regarded Monsieur deLamière. A little
more must be said of that unwholesome feeling
which, so far as my experience goes—happy
as I was under the care of Madame Grondet—I
must pronounce to be the most striking
feature of a Parisian school. We talked absurdly
of love, and suicide, and husbands; gentil
little blonds, as lovers, were regarded by the
French girls as the natural perquisites of
those who should marry; and they even acted
among themselves, as an every-day sport, the
details and scandals that may belong to courtship,
marriage, and intrigue. If two girls
among us made up their minds to be one, they
announced to the class, before it broke up for
meals, that the marriage ceremony would take
place on such a day, at such an hour, in such
apart of the garden,—all being invited to assist.

At the appointed time, a mock altar was
set up, and the representative of a bridegroom
put her black-bodied apron on over her
shoulders, so that it should resemble, after
some sort, a gentleman's coat. A mock priest
made a ridiculous sermon, and the pair were
declared man and wife. A week or two afterwards,
perhaps, the wife found her husband's
temper unendurable; quarrels arose in which,
now and then, the whole class, or whole
school took interest; lovers appeared, divorces
were agreed upon, aud fresh marriages were
made.