"What's the campaign?" asked Maurice, gazing with great awe and admiration at his new friend. "Why, young un, we're going south. You has got to find some un south, and I has got to find two people south. They may all be dead, and we may never find them; but for all that we has got to look, and look real hard too, I take it. Now, you see as this ere France is a werry big place; I remember when I wor brought away seven years ago that it took my master and me many days and many nights to travel even as far as Paris, and sometimes we went by train, and sometimes we had lifts in carts and wagons. Now, as we has got to walk all the way, and can't on no account go by no train, though we _may_ get a lift sometimes ef we're lucky, we has got to know our road. Look you yere, young uns, 'tis like this," Here Jography caught up a little stick and made a rapid sketch in the sand. "See!" he exclaimed, "this yere's France. Now we ere up yere, and we want to get down yere. We won't go round, we'll go straight across, and the first thing is to make for Paris. We'll go first to Paris, say I." "And are there night's lodgings in Paris?" asked Maurice, "and food to eat? and is it warm, not bitter, bitter cold like here?" "And is Paris a little town, Jography?" asked Cecile. "For my stepmother, she said as I was to look for Lovedy in all the little towns and in all the tiny inns." Jography laughed. "You two ere a rum pair," he said. "Yes, Maurice, you shall have plenty to eat in Paris, and as to being cold, why, that 'ull depend on where we goes, and what money we spends. You needn't be cold unless you likes; and Cecile, little Missie, we shall go through hall the smallest towns and villages, as you like, and we'll ax for Lovedy heverywhere. But Paris itself is a big, big place. I wor only seven years old, but I remember Paris. I wor werry misribble in Paris. Yes, I don't want to stay there. But we must go there. It seems to me 'tis near as big as Lunnon. Why shouldn't your Lovedy be in Paris, Missie?" "Only my stepmother did say the small villages, Jography. Oh! I don't know what for to do." "Well, you leave it to me. What's the use of a guide ef he can't guide you? You leave it to me, little un." "Yes, Cecile, come on, for I'm most bitter cold," said Maurice. "Stay one moment, young uns; you two ha' money, but this yere Joe ha'n't any, I want to test that dog there. Ef I can teach the dog to dance a little, why, I'll play my fiddle, and we'll get along fine." In the intense excitement of seeing Toby going through his first lesson, Maurice forgot all his cold and discomfort; he jumped to his feet, and capered about with delight; nay, at the poor dog's awkward efforts to steady himself on his hind legs, Maurice rolled on the ground with laughter. "You mustn't laugh at him," said Joe; "no dog 'ud do anythink ef he wor laughed at. There now, that's better. I'll soon teach him a trick or two."