a count, he is not rich enough to send us all to school; so our uncle,
the Canon Lucien, teaches us many lessons. He is not cross, let me tell
you, Panoria; but he is--well, a little severe."

"What, then, does he whip you?" asked Panoria.

"No, he does not; but if he says we should be whipped, then Mamma
Letitia hands us over to Nurse Mina Saveria; and she, I promise you,
does not let us off from the whipping."

All this Eliza admitted as if with vivid recollections of the vigor of
Nurse Saveria's arm.

Panoria glanced toward the grotto amid the rocks.

"Does he--Napoleon--ever get whipped?" she asked.

"Indeed he does not," Eliza grumbled; "or not as often as the rest of
us," she added. "And when he is whipped he does not even cry. You should
hear Joseph, though. Joseph is the boy to cry; and so is Lucien. I'd be
ashamed to cry as they do. Why, if you touch those boys just with your
little finger, they go running to Mamma Letitia, crying that we've
scratched the skin off."

Panoria had her idea of such "cry-babies" of boys; but Napoleon
interested her most.

"But, Eliza," she said, "what does he say--Napoleon--when he talks to
himself in his grotto over there?"