as he resumed his journey, “ how un¬
fortunate we poor boys are. Eivery¬
body scolds us, everybody admonishes us,
everybody gives us good advice. ‘To let them
talk, they would all take it into their heads to
be our fathers and our masters—all: even the
Talking-cricket. See now; because I don’t
choose to listen to that tiresome Cricket, who
knows, according to him, how many misfor¬
tunes are to happen to me! I am even to meet
with assassins! ‘That is, however, of little con¬
sequence, for I don’t believe in assassins—I
have never believed in them. Wor me, I think
that assassins have been invented purposely by
papas to frighten boys who want to go out at
night. Besides, supposing I was to come across
them here in the road, do you imagine they
would frighten me? not the least in the world.
I should go to meet them and cry: " Gentlemen
assassins, what do you want with me? Remem¬
ber that with me there is no joking. There¬
fore go about your business and be quiet!’ At