The late George du Maurier, an account of whose early student days has recently been published by Messrs. Harper & Brothers, was once much put out by an Englishman who took him for a Frenchman. The two conversed for a while in French, the Englishman stumbling through the conversation, thinking it necessary to bring into service all the French he knew in order to make himself understood by this greatest of English satirists.
But Du Maurier was not the only man to have this experience. Some years ago a party of four American gentlemen met, in the park at Versailles, four American ladies whose acquaintance they had made some months before in Germany. Desiring to treat them to a carriage ride, one of the gentlemen motioned to a cab that stood near. Supposing cabby to be French because he was in France, the eight summoned their best French, and, after a great deal of difficulty, in which cabby seemed dull and the Americans unable to give a French pronunciation to their French, succeeded in fixing upon a price for a two-hour ride. As four of the party were about to enter the carriage, one lady objected to the small seat. The cabby desired, so it afterward developed, to tell the lady she could sit on the front seat with him. Thinking of an inducement for so doing, he undertook to express it by bending over, shaking his trousers, then his coat tails, next his coat collar, and lastly his mustaches, which he pulled to their greatest length, having first inflated his cheeks to their fullest extent. His performance was so ludicrous that the whole party laughed, and some lady, in true American vernacular, shouted,
"Well, I never!"
The man straightened up instantly. "Are you folks English?" he ejaculated. Assured that they were next thing to English, and that they could not speak French, cabby said, "Neither can I."
"But what were you trying to say by those antics just now?"
"That it would be cooler on the high front seat," said cabby.
Of course the objection to the seat was waived, and the party, not put out as was Du Maurier, enjoyed a hearty laugh over their half-hour wasted in trying to make a bargain with cabby in a language that neither they nor he understood.
Societies Active in Good Deeds.
I write to tell you of the success of the Iris Club, of which I told you in the fall. After I wrote, we decided not to give our dues to a "home," but to give a church fair instead. It was a big undertaking for five schoolgirls, busy with lessons and music, but would bravely, making as many articles as possible. I made about one hundred. We got tickets printed free, and the fair was held at our house. Several ladies furnished music, and tickets, including ice-cream, were fifteen cents. We sold plants, embroidery, and other things on commission. So, although we took in $65, when everything was paid for we had $53.60 to give to the church. At the fair we had five tables, and then one large cake-table, besides a Wheel of Fortune and a fortune-teller. We asked all our friends for cakes and articles for sale, and the girls acted as waitresses. It was a great success, and the club justly feels proud of it.
Besides the Iris, another club, the Drumtochty, has been started here, also a benevolent institution, for making clothes for poor children. We meet every week, and we sew our garments. After they are finished we keep them until a poor family is found. Instead of reading books, the Iris reads "A Loyal Traitor," in Harper's Round Table, and enjoys it very much. We wish success to any other young society trying to do good.