was a past master of the art, and he had accumulated a sufficient fortune to gratify his taste for these antique and wonderful machines. Many of the timepieces in his quaint shop were kept continually in motion, and the soft tick and the loud tick rapped out their noisy contention hour after hour; the cock crew, the jacquemart struck the silver bell, and the twelve horsemen rode out, to the entertainment and delight of the lonely child, who sat day after day gazing at these marvels, and telling himself stories of what the clocks said to one another. He and the great cat, M. de Turenne, seemed to find their chief amusement in this occupation. Péron told himself that the deep-toned jacquemart was a great warrior, and that the Image de Notre Dame had the voice of a saint; and away over in the corner his quick ear heard the little voice of M. de Guise crying out that he was slain. The child was full of fancies, and many a tale he wove from the talk of the clocks. It was his custom whenever he crossed the Pont Neuf to go and look at the Tour de l’Horloge of the Palais de Cité, for to him the face of that clock had many expressions: when it smiled, little Péron was happy; when it frowned, he was sure to have ill luck. It was only the overgrown imagination of a solitary child, for the boy was very solitary; his only companions were Jacques Michel and his wife, his only playmate M. de Turenne. At this time he was eight years old, a handsome, sturdy, little fellow with a rosy face and golden brown hair, a thoughtful expression in his large dark eyes, and the sober, old-fashioned manners of a child who lived chiefly with his seniors and whose play was of the most sober sort. Although Jacques des Horloges was the possessor of a comfortable fortune, little Péron was plainly dressed; his short jacket was usually a well-worn blue taffety, and his breeches were of coarse wool, except on Sundays and saint-days, when he had the honor of appearing in a complete suit of black taffety with a collar of heavy lace. There was a still greater distinction reserved for Easter and Christmas,--a hat with a long curled plume, and then Péron felt that even Monsieur was not more grandly arrayed. At such times the child felt a certain shyness even of M. de Turenne, and walked about stiffly until the solemn occasion was past and he was at home again in the old blue jacket. Little Péron was scarcely known to the visitors to the shop, although Jacques Michel had many grand patrons, from the queen to the Prince de Condé. Great ladies came there in their coaches and descended the carriage steps, assisted by liveried footmen, entering the shop with the rustle of marvellous satin and brocade gowns, little velvet cloaks on their shoulders and great ruffs of lace standing up to their ears. They moved about admiring, wondering, criticising; one loved the clock that was inlaid with gold, another wanted only the Valois watch, which was not for sale. All the