Which is very like a negro I once knew in Bucyrus, Ohio. He was very religious, of the African kind of religion, and was the loudest and most muscular man at a prayer meeting for many a mile around. A gentleman who had a piece of work to do that was not entirely legal offered Sam two dollars to do it for him. "Massa Perkins, dis ting doesn't adzackly squar wid my perfeshn, an' it's decidedly wicked. It's suthin' a perfessin' Christian shouldn't do, nohow. But two dollahs is a mi'ty heap ob money foh de ole man, and ain't picked up ebery day. I'll chance it. Bress de Lawd! It's a sin, but I can 'pent. Bress de Lawd, I can 'pent. "While de lamp holds out to bun, De vilest sinnah may retun." "Bress de Lawd foh de deff-bed 'pentance. Dat is de great t'ing. Yoo can 'pent on a dying bed." "But, Sam," said Perkins, "I don't want you to do anything that grinds against your conscience. A death bed repentance is all very well, but suppose you die too suddenly to repent?" "It's a risk, Massa Perkins, but I'll chance it. Two dollahs is a great deal ob money foh de ole man. It's a mi'ty sudden deff dat'll ketch me onpropared. And come to t'ink ob it, to be entirely safe, I'll 'pent--jist ez soon ez I git de two dollahs." Our faro bankeress had the same kind of religion. Land her safe in New York, and she was easy as to her sins. It was only against the dangers of navigation that she wanted to be insured. [Illustration] [Sidenote: CATHEDRAL AT BEAUVAIS.] [Illustration: BEAUVAIS CATHEDRAL.] CHAPTER XXI. THE LOUVRE. Paris, the magnificent, has thousands of structures that are worth a voyage across the Atlantic to see, but there is in all that wonderful city no one that is so utterly bewildering in its magnificence as the massive pile, the Louvre, one of the largest as well as grandest places in the world. Its long galleries and beautiful salons, with hundreds of winds and turns, form a labyrinth in which, without a guide, one may almost be lost. It required a great deal of time to build the Louvre, as its completion was being continually retarded. But through all the years and the changes in the styles of architecture, a general oneness of plan was maintained, and the noble structure, though constructed piece-meal, is consistent and symmetrical. It is admirably located near the banks of the Seine, and with the Tuileries, occupies forty acres of ground. It is of a quadrilateral form, enclosing an immense square. Approaching it from the Place du Royale, its imposing front challenges attention and then invites study. Admiration is excited by the solidity, as well as symmetry of the pile, and this is increased by its elaborate ornamentation.