"My dear uncle," said he, "there is not a word of all this in your book; I have traveled, and am acquainted with the sea; we are now upon the coast of the ocean, and I must leave Miss St. Yves, to go and ask leave to marry her of a man who lives toward the Mediterranean, four hundred leagues from hence, and whose language I do not understand! This is most incomprehensibly ridiculous! But I will go first to the Abbé St. Yves, who lives only a league from hence; and I promise you I will wed my mistress before night." Whilst he was yet speaking, the bailiff entered, and, according to his usual custom, asked him where he was going? "I am going to get married," replied the ingenuous Hercules, running along; and in less than a quarter of an hour he was with his charming dear mistress, who was still asleep. "Ah! my dear brother," said Miss Kerkabon to the prior, "you will never make a sub-deacon of our nephew." The bailiff was very much displeased at this journey; for he laid claim to Miss St. Yves in favor of his son, who was a still greater and more insupportable fool than his father. [1] "Love," says Robert G. Ingersoll, "writes every poem, sings every song, paints every picture, chisels every statue--makes kings and queens of common clay, and is the perfume of that wondrous flower, the human heart."--E. VI. THE HURON FLIES TO HIS MISTRESS, AND BECOMES QUITE FURIOUS. No sooner had the ingenuous Hercules reached the house, than having asked the old servant, which was his mistress's apartment, he forced open the door, which was badly fastened, and flew toward the bed. Miss St. Yves, startled out of her sleep, cried. "Ah! what, is it you! Stop, what are you about?" He answered: "I am going to marry." She opposed him with all the decency of a young lady so well educated; but the Huron did not understand raillery, and found all evasions extremely disagreeable. "Miss Abacaba, my first mistress," said he, "did not behave in this manner; you have no honesty; you promised me marriage, and you will not marry; this is being deficient in the first laws of honor." The outcries of the lady, brought the sagacious Abbé de St. Yves with his housekeeper, an old devotee servant, and the parish priest. The sight of these moderated the courage of the assailant. "Good heavens!" cried the Abbé, "my dear neighbor, what are you about?" "My duty," replied the young man, "I am fulfilling my promises, which are sacred."