I heard the voice of lamentation near by. It was a small boy of twelve or thirteen years, who wanted to seesaw with a tall lout of eighteen at least. No sooner had the latter gone to the ground on his end of the plank which served as a tilt, than the little fellow at the other end received a violent shock that threw him over the little iron bar behind which stood those awaiting their turn. The poor child fell; luckily, it was on the soft turf, and he was not hurt; but he limped away, while the tall zany plumed himself on the shaking-up he had given him. A very pretty game is this seesawing; but I should advise those who indulge in it to have the ground mattressed; for I know by experience that falls are frequent and dangerous. But what was that report? It brought me involuntarily to a standstill. Was I near a display of fireworks? No; the Egyptian bird had just been set off. How proud the man seemed who had done the trick! To be sure, it was only the eleventh time that he had fired. A stout party seized the wire. I recognized him: it was Raymond. I should have been astonished not to fall in with him, for the fellow was everywhere. "I'll bet," he said in a bantering tone to the man who had just fired, taking pains to raise his voice in order to attract attention, "I'll bet, my dear fellow [he knows everybody], that I release the spring in three shots." "I'll bet you don't; it isn't so easy as you seem to think." "Easy! easy! if it was easy, there'd be no merit in it. I have an absolutely accurate eye. Come, I'll bet you an ice." "That you do it in three trials?" "Yes; in fact, I'm certain that I shan't have to try three times." "I'll take your bet." "All right; now you'll see." I halted, feeling perfectly certain, for my part, that my neighbor would make a fool of himself in some way. The man who managed the machine was reloading the iron box to which the spring was attached. "Get out of the way!" cried Raymond, impatient to display his skill, and raising the bird as high in the air as his arms allowed. The box was closed and the man stepped aside; Raymond threw the bird with such accuracy that the piece of iron, after following a zigzag course, struck six inches from the target. My neighbor was not discouraged, but threw the bird again--with no better success. "It's all out of equilibrium," he cried; "the wire's crooked, it isn't my fault." "This is your last shot." "Oh! this one will do the business." Raymond took aim for at least three minutes; at last the bird flew through the air. It finished its flight; but there was no report. "I've won! I've won!" cried Raymond's adversary; "you owe me an ice." "Oh! I don't know whether you've won or not; that depends. I am sure that the bird's beak moved the spring, and the reason it didn't go off must be that the powder's damp." "You're trying to crawl out of it! you've lost, and you owe me an ice!" "Well! I demand my revenge!"