46 STRAY-AWAYS 



transcending our vaunted English variety. It is 

 hot only that the father of the family tolerates his 

 offspring in a public and cheerful manner, a conde- 

 scension which wc esteem almost touching; here, 

 unwearied, he whirls the skipping-rope for the skipping 

 of his yellow-faced daughters, he conciliates the baby 

 in its most apoplectic paroxysm of spleen, he holds 

 long and beautifully histrionic conversations with his 

 mother-in-law and his great-aunt by marriage. He 

 is a pattern even to Mr. Fairchild, who, to the best of 

 my recollection, .was in the habit of "stretching 

 himself on the grass, at a little distance, with his 

 book," when his children had tea and anecdotes out- 

 of-doors. Even from this paragon among parents 

 Mrs. Sherwood expected no more. 



It is interesting to discover what a dislike can in 

 the course of an hour be cultivated for the nurse, 

 the omnipotent Nou-nou, with her immense coloured 

 ribbons streaming from the back of her white cap, her 

 black eyes that observe all things, her obesity, her 

 offensive and unembarrassed familiarity with her 

 mistress, her innumerable allies, and the detonating 

 kisses with which she greets them. She pervades the 

 Luxembourg Gardens from their opening to their 

 closing, in violation of every English tradition of 

 nursery hours and seasons. From beneath the haw- 

 thorns on the terrace she investigates the passer-by 

 with a practised eye ; along the straight alleys she 

 advances with a slow and swaying stride. The 

 female children skip to the exclusion of all other 

 amusements; every vista is alive with their heads 

 bobbing up and down; their thin legs leap from the 

 gravel as if from a spring-board ; their pale cheeks do 

 not flush. Those who are too young to skip sit in 

 the dust and collect it into heaps in the primeval 

 manner. It was, indeed, my privilege to see an 



