grew dense and more excited; men and boys were shouting wildly, and scores of people were hastily clambering upon two stone walls which lined the road. This road, it appeared, was to serve as a race-course. Having found a comfortable seat, we gave ourselves up to contemplating the odd crowd by which we were surrounded, and with patience awaited the start.

At last a wild shout arose, "Here they come !" Then dead silence fell over all, as dashing down the road came some six or eight horses, whose riders were urging them forward by every means possible.

The steeds were all without saddles, and they were supposed to have started at the same instant. But so anxious was each rider to get the lead that some had heard the word "go" a full minute before the others. As the clatter of hoofs was heard growing clearer and clearer, the greatest excitement prevailed in the crowd by which we were surrounded, and all were eager to see which of the riders would first reach the goal. All the burly men and the screaming boys prophesied that the winner would be a certain young man nicknamed Cayenne, because he had such a fiery temper. "No one dares beat him," piped a small boy at my elbow, "'cause Cayenne 's the fiercest man in Brittany!" And, sure enough, he soon came in view, the foremost in the race, with his red handkerchief flying in the air, and he was greeted with a loud shout from the assembled crowd.

This first contest was followed by others of a similar character, but ere long the races were finished. To us they were very tame performances, being nothing more than the galloping of a half-dozen plow-horses. But we derived much pleasure from watching the breathless and enthusiastic interest manifested by the simple people around us.

From the rude race-track, the crowds repaired to a large open space in one of the fields behind the school-house. Here a large circle had been marked off, and in the center stood a rather feeblelooking individual, bearing a long pole from which were suspended various prizes, consisting of gayly colored handkerchiefs, scarfs, wooden sabots, and other such trinkets.

Soon we perceived a small boy running around inside the ring, with his hand high up in the air; this was a challenge for any one outside the circle to come in and wrestle with the youthful athlete.

In a few moments the ring was completely filled with would-be wrestlers, who were struggling in each other's embrace in a lively fashion. Every now and then a man with a drum would commence to beat it in a deafening manner; this was to indicate that the contest between some pair of

wrestlers was at an end, and that a prize would be given to one of them.

In the meantime the bearer of the pole with the prizes had grown very weary, so that to hold the pole upright was too much for him, and down he fell, with the whole superstructure on top of him.

A wail of woe went up from all the valiant wrestlers, who immediately stopped in the midst of their combat to gather up the scattered prizes. And the old man having been set upon his feet, and a new prize-bearer put in his place, the business in hand was resumed.

It was curious to see the earnestness and yet the great good-nature with which the wrestlers contended. At one moment you would have thought they were mortal enemies engaged in deathly combat, with such fury did they come on to the assault; but the next moment the conflict would suddenly cease, while the combatants adjusted some article of clothing which had been torn or misplaced-smiling and chattering with each other meanwhile in the friendliest manner.

When the wrestling was concluded, the prizes were distributed, and then might be seen groups of happy swains, bearing themselves with all the airs of conquering heroes, and surrounded by admiring groups of relatives and friends, carefully examining the "elegant" prizes.

There was now an intermission of an hour or more, devoted to luncheon and to visiting the various shows which crowded the market-place. The most attractive of these seemed to be the "Merry-go-round." Not only the little folks, but the grown people also, would ride around and around in it, seemingly with the greatest enjoyment.

At two the drum sounded to recall all wanderers, and to make known to the boys that the hour had arrived for them to come forth and display their prowess in another contest, but of a different sort.

In front of the hotel had been erected a curious contrivance made of wood, consisting of two upright poles and a revolving cross-piece.

Now, the feat for each of the boys to perform, in turn, was to climb up one of the poles to the crosspiece, along which he was to crawl until he reached the opposite pole. If he accomplished this seemingly easy performance, he was to be allowed to choose one of many bright-colored handkerchiefs on a table near by; and if he failed, he would be sure only of being laughed at by the spectators, and of getting a tumble of some five or six feet.

The first lad who tried nimbly climbed the pole, and firmly planted himself on the cross-piece,— when lo! in an instant, before he had a chance to crawl a single inch, the thing revolved, depositing him on a bed of straw that had been spread under

neath to prevent any contestant from being hurt by the fall. What ignominy for the lad, to be lying there on the ground, when it looked so easy to reach the other end of the cross-piece!

A second boy now made the attempt, and had crawled about half-way along the cross-piece when the thing gave a quick lurch, and left him hanging with head down and feet convulsively clinging to the rod, while he writhed and twisted to regain his hold, the crowd hooting and jeering derisively.

A third, nothing daunted by the failures of his rivals, nimbly sprang up the pole, cautiously crawled along the bar, and just as the lookers-on were about to cheer him for his success,― over he went, landing flat upon the ground!

But at last a boy was found who reached the other end of the cross-piece without any mishap; and loud and long was the applause that rewarded his efforts as he waved in the air the much-coveted green and red handkerchief.

For an hour or more this performance was kept up, only one in every ten being successful, however; for the cross-piece was so adjusted that unless the balance was kept perfectly even, it was sure either to tip or to revolve.

Again the drum beat, this time louder and longer than before, and soon we saw the crowds wending their way in the direction of the river. When we reached it, both banks were already filled, and it was with difficulty that we found a place where we could watch the proceedings.

Anchored in the stream was a good-sized boat, gayly decorated with bright-colored ribbons and flags. Here were seated the judges and others having the affair in charge, looking very wise and important indeed.

The boom of the boat projected some distance out over the water. It was a good-sized, substantial pole, and would not, ordinarily, have been very difficult to "walk"; but now it had been thoroughly oiled, and it fairly glistened in the sun. On the end were trophies of victory of about the same value and description as those already distributed, and including many red shirts and scarfs. The river was filled with small boats, in readiness to rescue from a watery grave any contestant who was not an expert swimmer.

By and by appeared the group of boys who were to attempt the feat,-numbering a dozen or more, all scantily clothed, as the occasion required, but looking very determined.

The first fellow stepped carefully on the greased pole, made one or two convulsive motions with his arms, and then quietly jumped into the river and swam for the shore. The second tripped lightly on the boom, and with great care managed to bal

ance himself until he had reached the end, and all the beautiful prizes were within his grasp.

Which should he take? His fond father on the shore shouted" that beautiful red shirt"; his little brother cried out "that tin sword"; while he knew, in his heart, that his mother wanted a ribbon. That decided him; a ribbon it should be. But alas! he had already hesitated too long; he began to totter, and he made wild efforts to retain his footing. But in vain. The next moment he fell like a stone into the river, and he was picked up by one of the small boats.

But his ardor was not dampened; friends helped him to scramble up the bank, and in a few moments he was aboard the boat and trying again; but this time he was too excited, and he fell in the river almost at the first step.

Many others made the attempt, with the same ill success, and but few escaped a ducking. Still, they tried and tried again, to the intense delight of the spectators, until all the prizes had been claimed.

The next performance was the catching the ducks. And for this, the small boys came forth again in large numbers, ready to do their best.

A number of ducks with clipped wings were thrown into the river, and whoever succeeded in capturing one was entitled to possess it. Wild and frantic were the efforts made, but the ducks had a way of their own of escaping their pursuers. A boy would get so near he could touch the duck with his hand, but just as soon as he tried to hold him, the duck, like Paddy's flea, "was n't there.” They would jump over the lads' heads and fly in their faces, meanwhile keeping up a terrible quacking; but their strength gave out after a while, and then they fell easy prey to the hands of their captors.

This brought the day's sports to a close. Evening was fast setting in, and from the market-place could be heard the strains of the bagpipe and bignion. This was what the young people had been waiting for. Couples appeared from every side and soon were flying through the "gavotte," the native dance. They would form in lines joining hands, and then with something like a hop, skip, and a jump, away they would go in a wild whirl.

The covered market-place was dimly lighted with candles, and it was a strange, weird sight to watch the white caps bobbing up and down, here, there, and everywhere.

By ten o'clock the little village was sound asleep, and, no doubt, the dreams of its boys and girls, that night, were of a very rosy hue, for to them the annual fête is the greatest occasion of the year.

IV.

LOUIS OF BOURBON:

1638-1715.

THE BOY KING.

[Louis XIV. of France; afterward known as the "Grand Monarque."

DID you ever hear or see a mob, boys and girls? Probably not; but ask father or mother, or uncle, or any one who remembers the draft riots of 1863 in our own New York, if there is any sound more terrifying than that threatening, far-away murmur that grows each second louder and more distinct until it swells and surges up and down the city streets the hoarse, mad shouts of a mob. It was such a sound as this that on that dreary midnight of the tenth of February, 1651, filled the dark and narrow and dismal streets of old Paris, startling all the inmates of the Palais Royal, as under the palace windows rose the angry cry:

"The King! the King! Down with Mazarin!" Two anxious-faced young persons, a girl and a boy of thirteen or thereabout, who were peeping out into the corridor, looked at one another inquiringly.

"Whatever is the matter, Count?" asked dainty little Olympia, the pretty niece of the Queen's prime minister, Mazarin.

For answer the light-hearted young Armand, Count of Guiche, whom even danger could not rob of gayety, replied: "Faith, mam'selle, 't is a trick that may set us all a livelier dance than your delightful la brausle. The people are storming the palace to save the little king from my lord, your uncle. They say that the Queen will steal away to your uncle with his little Majesty, and so here come the people in fury to stay her purpose. Hark! there they go again!" and as, before the gates, rose the angry shouts, "the King! the King! Down with Mazarin!" these sprightly young people drew hastily back into the security of their own apartments.

"Down with Mazarin!" It was the rallying cry that stirred the excitable people of Paris to riot and violence in those old days of strife and civil war, over two hundred years ago, the troublesome time of the Fronde. The Court of the Queen Regent Anne, the Parliament of Paris, and the great princes of France were struggling for the mastery, in a quarrel so foolish and unnecessary that history has called it the war of the children,"

and its very nickname, "the Fronde," was taken from the fronde, or sling, which the mischievous boys of Paris used in their heedless street fights. Probably not one half of those who shouted so loudly"Down with Mazarin!" understood what the quarrel was about, nor just why they showed rage against the unpopular prime minister of the Queen Regent, the Italian Mazarin. But they had grown to believe that the scarcity of bread, the pinching pains of hunger, the poverty, and wretchedness which they all did understand were due, somehow, to this hated Mazarin, and they were therefor ready to flame up in an instant and to shout "Down with Mazarin!" until they were hoarse. And now in the great palace all is confusion.

"The King! the King! We must see the King!" shout the swaying crowd. There is a dash against the trellised gates of the palace, a dash and then a mighty crash, and, as the outer gate falls before the people's assault, the great alarm bell of the palace booms out its note of danger. Then guards and gentlemen press hastily toward the royal apartments in defense of the queen and her sons, while ladies, and pages, and servants scatter and hide in terror.

But Anne, Queen Regent of France, was as brave as she was shrewd.

"What is the people's wish?" she demanded as the Duc de Beaufort entered her apartment.

"To see his Majesty with their own eyes, they say," was the reply.

"But can they not trust their queen, my lord?" she asked.

"Their queen, your Highness? Yes. But not Mazarin," said the blunt duke.

"Ho, there, d'Aumont," said the Queen to the captain of the palace guard, "bid that the portals be opened at once! Draw off your guard. And you, my lords, stand aside; we will show the king to our good people of Paris and defeat the plots of our enemies. Bid the people enter," and, unattended, save by M. de Villeroi, the king's governor, and two of her ladies-in-waiting, she passed quickly through the gallery that led to the magnificent bed-chamber of the little King Louis.

"What is this uproar, madame?" was the greeting she received from a handsome, auburnhaired boy of twelve, as she entered the apartment.