And a hook-nose,-with, underneath,

O! what a row of sparkling teeth !——

NINON (touching her cheek suspiciously).

Has he a scar on this side?

NINETTE.

Hush!

Some one is coming. No; a thrush :

I see it swinging there.

NINON.

Go on.

NINETTE.

Then he must fence (ah, look, 'tis gone!)

And dance like Monseigneur, and sing

"Love was a Shepherd":-everything

That men do. Tell me yours, NINON.

NINON

Shall I? Then mine has black, black hair,

I mean he should have; then an air

Half-sad, half noble; features thin;

A little royale on the chin;

And such a pale, high brow.

And then,

He is a prince of gentlemen ;—

He, too, can ride and fence, and write

Sonnets and madrigals, yet fight

No worse for that—

NINETTE.

I know your man.

NINON.

And I know yours. But you'll not tell,—

Swear it!

NINETTE.

I swear upon this fan,—

My Grandmother's!

"GOOD NIGHT, BABETTE!"

'Si vieillesse pouvait !—'

SCENE.-A small neat Room. In a high Voltaire

Chair sits a white-haired old Gentleman.

MONSIEUR VIEUXBOIS. BABETTE.

M. VIEUXBOIS (turning querulously).

Day of my life! Where can she get?

BABETTE! I say! BABETTE!-BABETTE !!

BABETTE (entering hurriedly).

Coming, M'sieu'! If M'sieu' speaks

So loud, he won't be well for weeks!

M. VIEUXBOIS.

Where have you been?

BABETTE.

Why M'sieu' knows:

April!... Ville-d'Avray!... Ma'amselle ROSE !

M. VIEUXBOIS.

Ah! I am old,-and I forget.

Was the place growing green, BABETTE?

BABETTE.

But of a greenness !—yes, M'sieu' !

And then the sky so blue !- -so blue!

And when I dropped my immortelle,

How the birds sang!

(Lifting her apron to her eyes.)

This poor Ma'am'selle!

M. VIEUXBOIS.

You're a good girl, BABETTE, but she,