My friend is a sceptic. He says that the public schools are overflowing with boys, and that if they did not exist, many of these private school-masters would make their fortune. I bid him hold his wicked tongue. He ought to be ashamed of himself. The meeting is over. The orators, with their speeches in their hands, besiege the press reporters' table. I again apply to my friend for the explanation of this. He tells me that these gentlemen are trying to persuade the reporters to insert their speeches in their notes, in the hope that they will be reproduced in to-morrow's papers, and thus advertise their names and schools. My friend is incorrigible. I will ask him no more questions. * * * * * _4th October, 1872._ There will be some people disappointed this morning, if I am to believe what my friend said yesterday. I have just read the papers. Under the heading "Meeting of the Teachers' Association," I see a long report of yesterday's proceedings at the Society of Arts. Canon Barry's speech alone is reproduced. * * * * * _24th May, 1873._ For many months past, M. Thiers has carried the Government with his resignation already signed in his frockcoat pocket. "Gentlemen," he has been wont to say in the Houses of Parliament, "such is my policy. If you do not approve it, you know that I do not cling to power; my resignation is here in my pocket, and I am quite ready to lay it on the table if you refuse me a vote of confidence." I always thought that he would use this weapon once too often. A letter, just received from Paris, brings me the news of his overthrow and the proclamation of Marshal MacMahon as President of the Republic. * * * * * _28th May, 1873._ The editor of the French paper, of which I have been the London correspondent for a few months, sends me a check, with the sad intelligence that one of the first acts of the new Government has been to suppress our paper. Things are taking a gloomy aspect, and no mistake. * * * * * _12th June, 1873._ To return to France at once would be a retreat, a defeat. I will not leave England, at any rate, before I can speak English correctly and fluently. I could manage this when a child; it ought not to take me very long to be able to do the same now. I pore over the _Times_ educational advertisements every day. Have left my name with two scholastic agents. _25th June, 1873._ I have put my project into execution, and engaged myself in a school in Somersetshire. The post is not a brilliant one, but I am told that the country is pretty, my duties light, and that I shall have plenty of time for reading. I buy a provision of English books, and mean to work hard. In the mean time, I write to my friends in France that I am getting on swimmingly.