Our Little French Cousin

they like better than the picturesque old villages, farms, and apple-orchards

for they often came to draw or paint the qu

ile were great friends. He was painting near the farm, and he of

under the apple-trees, whereupon she ran into the laiterie wher

ting again in the field. It is so hot.

later to help me." Madame Lafond knew that when her little daughter was wat

jug full, took a glass, and holding an umbrella over her, carefully carried it down the hillside to

ng me a cold drink. It was just what I wanted, and I was too lazy to walk up to the farm and ask for it

homson had sold for so many thousands of francs that it took away her breath. Besides, did it

a most beautiful picture," she sa

said, draining the cider jug. "I feel much refreshed and must get to work again, for the light is changing fa

shes; and Mr. Thomson talked to her so pleasantly in his queer French that it amused her. Germaine

oreigner is speaking their language. They never laugh nor take the slightest notice of the worst blunde

ermaine wanted to talk about. "Tell m

ring the winter, and his big studio looked out on the fine old gardens of the Luxembourg, and from the wind

erly when Mr. Thomson told her of the broad boulevards shaded by chestnut-trees, with fine shops on either side, and the grea

wed in this special enclosure, and carriages can only drive at a moderate pace. Here the Parisian mothers bring their children for a good time. They can romp over the grass and play among the pretty flower-beds; have games

e cakes and milk and sweet drinks can be had

ardens of the Tuileries; there is where I woul

un after their toy balloons; and trundle their dolls about, or sail toy boats with red, blue, or white sails, on the little pond, while th

ys call 'Punch and Judy;' but they would enjoy it just as much as do the French chil

raw the birds to him by some magic. He whistles, and they perch on his head, shoulders, and hands, eat out of his mouth, and perform tricks on the stick he

world. It stands on the river bank, for Paris is built on either side of that same Seine that Germ

picture he is now painting; and of the beautiful Alexander III. bridge near it, with its lofty white columns crowned

ity," Mr. Thomson would alwa

ut now I must go," she added, jumping up; "mamma will be waiting for me to help her with