Time passed; the children grew. The children older than they in the same house became less and less like children, and began to disappear from the family board and roof by a mysterious process called marrying, which greatly mystified Zosephine, but equally pleased her by the festive and jocund character of the occasions, times when there was a ravishing abundance of fried rice-cakes and _boulettes_--beef-balls. To Bonaventure these affairs brought less mystery and less unalloyed pleasure. He understood them better. Some boys are born lovers. From the time they can reach out from the nurse's arms, they must be billing and cooing and choosing a mate. Such was ardent little Bonaventure; and none of the Gradnego weddings ever got quite through its ceremony without his big blue eyes being found full of tears--tears of mingled anger and desolation--because by some unpardonable oversight he and Zosephine were still left unmarried. So that the pretty damsel would have to take him aside, and kiss him as they clasped, and promise him, "Next time--next time, without fail!" Nevertheless, he always reaped two proud delights from these events. For one, Sosthene always took him upon his lap and introduced him as his little Creole. And the other, the ex-governor came to these demonstrations--the great governor! who lifted him to his knee and told him of those wonderful things called cities, full of people that could read and write; and about steamboats and steam-cars. At length one day, when weddings had now pretty well thinned out the ranks of Sosthene's family, the ex-governor made his appearance though no marriage was impending. Bonaventure, sitting on his knee, asked why he had come, and the ex-governor told him there was war. "Do you not want to make haste and grow up and be a dragoon?" The child was silent, and Sosthene laughed a little as he said privately in English, which tongue his exceptional thrift had put him in possession of: "Aw, naw!"--he shook his head amusedly--"he dawn't like hoss. Go to put him on hoss, he kick like a frog. Yass; squeal wuss'n a pig. But still, sem time, you know, he ain't no coward; git mad in minute; fight like little ole ram. Dawn't ondstand dat little fellah; he love flower' like he was a gal." "He ought to go to school," said the ex-governor. And Sosthene, half to himself, responded in a hopeless tone: "Yass." Neither Sosthene nor any of his children had ever done that. CHAPTER III. ATHANASIUS.