"Sair, it teach de morale; de rock of de passion et les grands mouvements
de l'ame! Oui, Sair; it teach all, un Monsieur vish to know. Tout le monde
read him in la France; en province, comme en ville. If sa Majesté, le
Grand Louis, be not so mal avisé, as to chasser Messieurs les Huguenots
from his royaume, I shall go to Paris, to hear le Cid, moi-même!"

"A good journey to you, Monsieur Cue. We may meet on the road, until which
time I take my departure. The day may come, when we shall converse with a
rolling sea beneath us. Till then, brave cheer!"

"Adieu, Monsieur," returned François, bowing with a politeness that had
become too familiar to be forgotten. "If we do not meet but in de sea, we
shall not meet, nevair. Ah, ha, ha! Monsieur le Marin n'aime pas à
entendre parler de la gloire de la France! Je voudrais bien savoir lire ce
f--e Shak-a-spear, pour voir, combien l'immortel Corneille lui est
supérieur. Ma foi, oui; Monsieur Pierre Corneille est vraiment un homme
illustre!"

The faithful, self-complacent, and aged valet then pursued his way towards
the large oak on the bluff; for as he ceased speaking, the mariner of the
gay sash had turned deeper into the woods, and left him alone. Proud of
the manner, in which he had met the audacity of the stranger, prouder
still of the reputation of the author, whose fame had been known in France
long before his own departure from Europe, and not a little consoled with
the reflection that he had contributed his mite to support the honor of
his distant and well-beloved country, the honest François pressed the
volume affectionately beneath his arm, and hastened on after his mistress.

Though the position of Staten Island and its surrounding bays is so
familiar to the Manhattanese an explanation of the localities may be