and severely surveying him. "I do not understand a word."
"But I understand," answered mamma. "He is telling me that a certain hunter had on purpose urged the dogs against him, and so he says, 'Wanted to kill but God did not let,' and he is asking you not to punish the hunter."
"Oh, that's it?" said papa. "But how does he know that I had intended to punish the hunter? You know, I am not at all fond of these gentlemen," he continued in French, "but this one is especially objectionable to me, and, no doubt — "
"Oh, do not say that, my dear," mamma interrupted him, as if frightened at something, "how do you know?"
"It seems to me I have had occasion to become acquainted with his tribe, — there are a lot of them coming to see you, they are all of the same pattern. Always one and the same story."
It was evident mamma was of an entirely different opinion in regard to that matter, and did not wish to discuss it.
"Hand me that pasty, if you please," said she. "Are they good to-day?"
"No, I am angry," continued papa, taking the pasty in his hand, but holding it at such a distance that mamma could not reach it, "no, I am angry whenever I see intelligent and cultivated people given to such deception."
And he struck the table with his fork.
"I have asked you to hand me the pasty," repeated she, extending her hand.
"They are doing just right," continued papa, moving his hand away, "when they put them in jail. The only good they do is to destroy the otherwise weak nerves of certain persons," added he, with a smile, as he noticed that this conversation did not please mamma. Then he handed her the pasty.
"I shall reply only this much to you: it is hard to be-
