Maurice professed himself satisfied with this solution of his difficulties; and the meeting proceeded to appoint a committee, to go out and prepare some plan, to be submitted to the meeting. This committee returned, and after a short space, brought in a resolution, that Mr. Bonfils be for one year placed at the head of the little community, with absolute power; and that, at the end of that period, such plan of government as the people might decree, should be established.
This resolution was adopted unanimously. The men threw up their hats in joy, and the air rang with acclamations. The women and children heard the cheerful sounds, and ran toward the men, who met them half way. It was a scene of unmixed joy. Brusque and Emilie met, and the tears of satisfaction fell down their cheeks. François went to his aged mother, and even her dimmed eye was lighted with pleasure at the joyful issue of the meeting.
We must now take leave of the island of Fredonia—at least for a time—and whether we ever return to it, must depend upon the wishes of our young readers. If they are anxious to see how the people flourished under the reign of their aged old chief, and how they proceeded in after years, perchance we may lift the curtain and show them the scene that lies behind it. But I hope that our readers have learnt, that not only men and women, but children, have an interest in government, and therefore that it is a thing they should try to understand.
The Tanrec.
This creature resembles the hedgehog, but is larger than that animal, and is destitute of a tail. It does not roll itself into a ball, for defence, like the former animal. It passes three of the warmest months of the year in a state of torpor, differing in this respect from other animals, which become torpid from extreme cold. Its legs are very short, and it moves very slowly. It is fond of the water, and loves to wallow in the mud. It moves about only by night. There are three species, all found in the island of Madagascar.
Letter from a Correspondent.
Little Readers of the Museum:
I sometimes read Mr. Robert Merry’s Museum, and I like it very much, as I presume all his little “blue-eyed and black-eyed readers” do. He talks very much like good old Peter Parley. I should think he had heard him tell many a story while he rested his wooden leg on a chair, with a parcel of little laughing girls and boys around him. Oh, how many times I have longed to see him, and crawl up in his lap and hear his stories! But Mr. Merry says he is dead, and I never can see him. I am very—very sorry, for I hoped I should sometime visit him, for I loved him very much, and I guess he would have loved me some, for I like old people, and always mean to treat them with respect. How cruel it was for others to write books and pretend that Peter Parley wrote them!—for it seems that this shortened his life. I am glad, however, that Mr. Merry has his writings, for I think he loves his little friends so well that he will frequently publish some of them. I said that I loved Peter Parley, and I guess you will not think it strange that I should, when I tell you what a useful little book he once published, and how much pleasure I took in reading it. He wrote a great many interesting pieces which I read and studied, and they did me much good, I think. I hope that the little readers of the Museum will learn a good deal from what they read.