"Yes," he said, "there's no doubt about the fact in my own mind;--I am just as much in love with that pretty young girl who has left me laughing and joyous, as that ridiculous Jacques is with his beauty at Shadynook. I thought at one time I was in love with Belle-bouche myself, but I was mistaken. I certainly was convinced of it, however, or why did I name my sail-boat the 'Rebecca'--that being the actual name of Miss Belle-bouche? Yet I was not in love with that young lady--and _am_ in love with this little creature of fifteen and a half, who has passed me every morning and evening, going to school. Going to school! there it is! I, the great political thinker, the originator of ideas, the student, the philosopher, the cynic--I am in love with a school-girl! Well, I am not aware that the fact of acquiring a knowledge of geography and numbers, music, and other things, has the effect of making young ladies disagreeable. Therefore I uphold the doctrine that love for young ladies who attend school is not wholly ridiculous--else how could those who go on studying until they are as old as the surrounding hills, be ever loved with reason? I am therefore determined to fall deeper still in love, and write more verses, and abolish that old dull scoundrel Coke, and become a sighing, languishing, poetic Lovelace. I'll go and dance, and feel my pulse every hour, and look at the weather-glass of my affections, and at night, or rather in the morning, report to myself the result. What a lucky lover I am! I will write a sonnet to that thread, and an ode to the hook;--I will expand the affair into an epic!" With which gigantic idea Sir Asinus kicked aside a volume of Coke which obstructed his way, seized a pen, and frowning dreadfully, began to compose. CHAPTER XXIV. HOFFLAND IS WHISKED AWAY IN A CHARIOT. "What an oddity!" said Hoffland, as leaving the domain of Sir Asinus behind them, the two students passed on, still laughing at the grotesque appearance of the knight; "this gentleman seems to live in an atmosphere of jests and humor." "I think it is somewhat forced." "Somewhat forced?" "At times." "How?" "I mean that he is as often sad as merry; and more frequently earnest and serious than careless." "Is it possible, Ernest?" "I think I am right." "Sir Asinus--as I have heard him called--a serious man?" "Yes, and a very profound one." "You surprise me!" "Well, I think that some day he will surprise the world: he is a most profound thinker, and has that dangerous trait for opponents, a clearness of perception which cuts through the rind of a subject, and eviscerates the real core of it with extraordinary ease. You know----" "Now you are going to talk politics," said Hoffland, laughing. "No," said Ernest. "I do not like politics," Hoffland continued; "they weary me, and I would much rather talk of balls.--What a funny figure Sir Asinus will cut with that little creature--in reel or minuet!"