With a bow he finished his speech to the onlookers, and commenced with deft fingers to arrange a small trapeze. He placed a dove on it, and then attaching the upright posts so that they could not turn over, he set the bird swinging on the bar. Nothing could have exceeded the innocence of the performance, for the birds did nothing at all wonderful, or in any sense trained, but the air of the showman and the simplicity of the performance must have endeared it to any one of feeling in the crowd. “Joli, now wilt thou attend to thy master, and place thy pink feet firmly upon the ring? Thou knowest it is but a little time, my Joli, and thou shalt be, once more, pecking the peas.” He lifted the dove from the table, while it made every movement of revolt, but only foolish feathered revolt, swiftly quelled. Slowly round and round the bird revolved in the ring, staying there simply because it had not the wit or will to flutter out of it, and the hunchback swung the ring quicker and quicker so that the onlookers murmured applause. Then it was Jou-Jou’s turn to be harnessed to a tiny charette made from a wooden box, painted in red and blue. Joli sat within while Jou-Jou pattered round drawing it, guided by the hunchback’s hand. Soon Oliver heard an English voice among the spectators. “Oh, look at those doves, Papa,” it said. “I want to stop and look.” A very smartly dressed little girl pressed forward, brushing aside other people. She had an eager face, and looked discontented. “What do you call the doves, boy?” she asked in French, in a sharp voice. “Joli and Jou-Jou, mademoiselle.” “Who taught them to do their tricks, boy?” “It is I who taught them, mademoiselle.” “I want to buy them; will you tell me how much money they would cost?” “They are not for sale, mademoiselle.” “But if I want them?” said the little girl imperiously; “and if I give gold for them, of course they will be for sale. Here, Papa,” she cried out suddenly. “I want these doves, please; you know you said you would give me my birthday present in advance, and I don’t want the goat-carriage now. I’m sure the little boy will be glad to get two gold pieces; we will give him one for each dove; look how ill and starved he appears! and his clothes, I never saw such tatters. You can send the doves round to the Hotel d’Angleterre, do you hear, boy? and we shall give you two, perhaps three, whole gold pieces.” She opened her eyes very wide, and nodded her head at him, so busy in her shrill speech that she was quite blind to the expression on the face before her. You have no doubt read the Fairchild Family? Well, when I tell you she was first cousin to Miss Augusta Noble, and very like her too, wearing the same kind of clothes in the same arrogant manner, you will be able to conjure her before the mind’s eye very accurately indeed. “You will get perhaps three whole gold pieces!” she repeated, “but be sure to be there before to-morrow at noon, for we leave on the day following.