[1] "Love," says Robert G. Ingersoll, "writes every poem, sings every song, paints every picture, chisels every statue—makes kings and queens of common clay, and is the perfume of that wondrous flower, the human heart."—E.
VI.
THE HURON FLIES TO HIS MISTRESS, AND BECOMES QUITE FURIOUS.
No sooner had the ingenuous Hercules reached the house, than having asked the old servant, which was his mistress's apartment, he forced open the door, which was badly fastened, and flew toward the bed. Miss St. Yves, startled out of her sleep, cried.
"Ah! what, is it you! Stop, what are you about?" He answered:
"I am going to marry."
She opposed him with all the decency of a young lady so well educated; but the Huron did not understand raillery, and found all evasions extremely disagreeable.
"Miss Abacaba, my first mistress," said he, "did not behave in this manner; you have no honesty; you promised me marriage, and you will not marry; this is being deficient in the first laws of honor."
The outcries of the lady, brought the sagacious Abbé de St. Yves with his housekeeper, an old devotee servant, and the parish priest. The sight of these moderated the courage of the assailant.