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having subsisted on a root much esteemed by the Indians of the Missouri, now known by the naturalists as psoralea esculentii.
THE ROBBER.
In the year 1662, when Paris was afflicted with a long and severe famine, M. de Sallo, returning from a summer evening’s walk, with only a little foot boy, was accosted by a man, who presented his pistol, and in a manner far from the resoluteness of a hardened robber, asked him for his money. M. de Sallo, observing that ho came to the wrong man, and that he could get little from him, added, “ I have only three louis d’ors about me, which is not worth a scuffle, so much good may they do you, but let me tell you, you are in a bad way.” The man took them, without asking for more, and walked off with an air of dejection and terror. The fellow was no sooner goue, than M. de Sallo ordered the boy to follow him, to see where he went, and to give him an account of every thing. The lad obeyed ; followed him through several obscure streets, and at length saw him enter a baker’s shop, where he observed him change one of the louis, and buy a large brown loaf. With this purchase he went a few doors farther, and entering an alley, ascended a pair of stairs. The boy crept up after him to the fourth story, where ho saw him go into a room, that had no other light than what it received from the moon, and peeping through a crevice, he perceived him throw it on the floor, and burst into tears, saying, “there, eat your fill, there’s the dearest loaf I ever bought: I have robbed a gentleman of three louis ; let us husband them well, and let me have no more teazings, for sooner or
