"C'est le toton politique, ça!" said I, laughing; while my remembrance of his odd little toy brought a flush of pleasure to his cheek, as he smiled and nodded. He was already better, and the fresh air on deck soon revived him. We were coming into port beside a long pier, from which uncouth figures hailed us with tossing lanterns. Monsieur Brizard pointed out to me a group of uniformed custom-house officials near a picturesque old gate; and beyond this I saw the gables of Calais in a confused mass against the sky. A voice warned us to make ready our passports, as we plunged into the throng surging up to the landingstage. In this scramble the Belgian was swept away, and we saw no more of him. But I still clung to Monsieur Brizard, who, declaring that there was not the slightest hurry, moved away from the crowd, when we reached the top of the gangplank, to light a cigarette under the nearest lamp-post.

"We have a full hour to wait," he explained. "Now for the passports, which will be taken up for examination as we enter the douane." Speaking, he drew his out and opened it. "Sacré nom de mille tonnerres!" he cried.

"What is the matter?" I asked.

"It is not mine, this paper. Look! The name is Alexandre Duval, négociant de Paris.' Who is he, and what have I to do with him? Expliquez-moi ça, mon ami!"

I

But I had no explanation to offer. could only stare at the paper, and ask if the visé was in order.

"Yes, yes; it is of this morning, when I obtained my own. Sapristi! that explains all clearly. They have returned me the wrong one, and I was too stupid to notice it. But what is to be done?"

We stepped nearer to the lamp, for careful inspection of the passport, which was undoubtedly genuine. It was drawn for a man of forty-eight, whose descrip

66

vagueness: Face, oval; forehead and mouth, medium; hair, gray." I compared these features with the bearer's, finding that they conformed sufficiently well; and Monsieur Brizard arrived swiftly at the same conclusion. "Parbleu!" he cried, "it might pass for me, - all except the age, and I am but fiftyone. Grâce à Dieu! quelle chance!"

Here the passen

We went on to the gate, there delivering the passports to an officer in charge, who ushered us into a dreary waitingroom of the station. gers for Paris were penned up like so many sheep, while rigid scrutiny of their credentials went on behind a closed door in one corner, toward which all eyes turned impatiently. When, after a long delay, this door was opened, we swarmed on to the inner sanctuary, where our names were called in turn and the passports redelivered as we presented ourselves to claim them. It chanced that my name fell among the first, but, there being no hurry, I lingered on, anxious to learn my companion's fate. Little by little, the crowd thinned out; and its number had dwindled to two or three, when Alexandre Duval was summoned. Monsieur Brizard responded instantly, moving forward to the desk in perfect self-possession. The officer gave him one searching look; then, without a word, handed back the passport. I joined him at once, and together we went out under the wide arch of the station. We were admitted to French soil at last; there, before us, stood the long line of carriages placarded for Paris. But we still had twenty minutes to spare; so, at the sug

gestion of Monsieur Brizard, who declared that he was famished, we turned into the buffet, where our light supper of bouillon and cold chicken, well served, seemed to me my most refreshing meal for many a day. Then, in a very happy mood, we strolled back to the train; perceiving, first, that the best places were taken; next, that there was grave doubt of our finding any places at all. "En voitures, messieurs!" shouted the guards, with a great slamming of doors. We rushed wildly up and down the line, Monsieur Brizard plunging finally into one carriage, and I into another far removed from him. I sank into its only empty seat just as the train started, and for the next few minutes thought of nothing but to get my breath again, and make sure that no personal effects had slipped from my pockets in all this frantic haste.

When we were fairly out of Calais, and the blue shade had been drawn over the carriage - lamp, making its light of the faintest, I had a good opportunity to examine my belt once more. I according ly did so, this time with great care.

The coin was all in its place; there could be no doubt of that. But, to my horror, I discovered that the front pocket, containing the package of notes, had been cut in two by some sharp instrument, and that every note was gone! My hair stood on end. In vain I told myself that the cut had always existed, that I was dreaming, that the sealed envelope lay safely hidden in another pocket. I had seen Mr. Flack deposit it there, and knew that the hope was false. I remembered perfectly the figures marked upon it, and I verified them now by my memorandum in the dim light, -12,150 francs; more than half, that is to say, of the entire sum entrusted to me. I was robbed, - robbed through my own imprudence, when I had been expressly warned to practice circumspection. The dreadful second thought, which seemed to involve my ruin, left me faint and cold. My life has been one of many trials,

He

but I am sure that the hours which followed this discovery were among the worst I have ever known. As the train rushed on, my seven fellow-passengers, whose consciences were at rest, composed themselves to sleep, while I, bolt upright and broad awake, stared out at the wild country, summoning back into my tortured brain every circumstance from Charing Cross to Calais, trying to fix the moment of the theft, with which, alternately, I saddled the Belgian and Monsieur Brizard. Then slowly I became convinced of the latter's innocence. The Belgian was the thief, of course. had observed the belt on the way down, perhaps, and he had rifled it as I dozed at his side in the steamer's cabin. I groaned aloud over the fact that we were flying farther and farther from him every moment. I did not even know under what name he traveled. He had watched while I slept miserably, suffering him to crawl from the inner place without disturbing me. He was first upon his feet as we came into Calais. I had found him, when I woke, bending over Monsieur Brizard, whom he had taken to task about the passport. The passport! Thereby hung a strange incident of which we had made too little. What if he, with some motive best known to himself, had exchanged Monsieur Brizard's passport for his own? What if he were no Belgian, but Monsieur Alexandre Duval, négociant de Paris? The fancy, once conceived, impressed me as a revelation of the truth. One misdeed seemed to illuminate the other, and I was firmly persuaded now that, like myself, the toy-maker had been robbed in the dark, though only of his good name.

Abbeville! come and gone in a breath. Amiens! where we waited a little longer, while our bearings were tested with the clink of hammers. Then tired nature asserted itself, and, in spite of all my trouble, I nodded into painful sleep, the prey of nightmares. When I woke, the dawn was slowly breaking over the fair

land of Oise. The storm had passed away, the sky was clear, the sun came up gloriously. Green fields, thickly sown with buttercups, stretched off on either hand, while now and then a rideau of pale poplars stood out against the distant horizon. But I watched the growth of the calm summer morning with an aching heart. The busy town of Creil flashed by us. Two of my companions woke, and chattered about the beauty of the landscape, the brilliant sunshine, then lapsed abruptly into moody silence. at sight of the Prussian uniforms and helmets on the platform of Saint-Denis, which still remained in the enemy's hands. And now, hemmed in by walls, we rattled on toward the heart of Paris, where the journey ended at last in the dismal Gare du Nord.

The station was crowded, and its noisy confusion jarred upon my nerves. Very weak and dispirited, I pushed on to the barrier in the hope of overtaking Monsieur Brizard; but he was nowhere to be seen. I carried only hand-luggage, which the officials passed unopened; and a moment later, jumping into an open victoria, I gave the cocher our address in the Rue Saint-Arnaud.

It was a quarter after six by the clock of Saint-Vincent-de-Paul when we drove under it through the long Rue de Lafayette, where the shops had already opened. Tricolored flags fluttered at all the windows, as if the city were decked for some feast-day; but a veil of smoke swept low over the quarter, and I soon saw that the day was rather one of mourning. Half the women were in black; every face looked saddened. We passed on into denser smoke and deeper sadness. The house-fronts, torn by shot and shell, gave me glimpses of deserted rooms with their household gods still in them. Martial law had been proclaimed, and as I crossed the Place de l'Opéra, which was completely gutted, I could see the soldiers grouped about a line of camp-fires on the Boulevard des Italiens. The war-cloud

overshadowed everything in all the splendid distance; and my own cloud, not to be shaken off, enveloped me more closely. Thus, chilled to the very soul, I entered the Paris of my dreams.

Our concierge gave me a cheery welcome and the freedom of the office, where the day's work had not begun; then he brought coffee, which I gratefully accepted. My spirits rose a little, enabling me to consider my trouble calmly and to decide upon my course. I resolved to confide in Sam Ryeder, or in the cashier, should he appear first upon the scene, before breaking my unpleasant news to the higher authorities. Of the cashier I knew little more than his name, which was Hawkins; but we were fellow-clerks, and I trusted to him in advance for counsel and sympathy. Two hours dragged on; until at half past eight the vanguard of the force arrived, stirring the silent precincts into sudden activity. The tall steel safe, like a coffin set on end, was opened; the books were distributed; the juniors, one by one, took up the daily task. Then came a facteur from the post-office to leave his budget of letters, and a telegraph-boy with a message for Monsieur Hawkins. I saw the pale blue envelope placed conspicuously upon the cashier's desk, now the only unoccupied one except Sam's. I would make my confession to no one else, and, irritated by delay, I began to accuse them both of laziness, forgetting how young their day still was.

At last, a tall man, with care worn features and grizzled beard, strode briskly to his place, where, pouncing upon the telegram, he tore it open, read it, and tossed it down. This, then, was Mr. Hawkins. As I came forward timidly, he looked up.

"Ah! you are Garner?" said he. "Just in from London?"

"Yes," said I, fumbling at my belt with clumsy, nervous fingers; "and here"

"Good! the French money. Glad you came through all safe. But look

fered for sale in every window on the boulevard throughout the official term of "Papa Thiers," as we irreverently called the first President of the new republic.

The clever toy and its inventor went their
way with him, at last, the mortal one.
They are dead as yesterday, all three.
Requiescant in pace!
T. R. Sullivan.

THE unscrupulous politician is the greatest enemy that we now have to contend with in public education. His highest conception of the public school is that its revenues offer him the opportunity of public plunder. Did he accomplish his end without other injury to the cause of education than the depletion of its revenues, he might be ranked merely with the common thief. However, he does not confine his depredations to the financial side of the matter, but pushes his corrupting presence into the school itself. He commits the unpardonable sin when he interferes with the rightful tenure of office of the teacher, and seeks to make political reasons more effective than professional competency in securing and retaining teachers' positions. The purpose 2/ of this paper is to compare some existing conditions in this respect with reasonable ideals, and to suggest remedies for some of the direct evils to which public education is now exposed. It is somewhat difficult for me to summon sufficient patience for the calm consideration of this subject, in view of the officious impertinence of the politician on the one hand, and the apathy of the good citizen on the other. But it seems clear that if the selfsame good citizen is ever to be roused to an appreciation of his duties and his rights in the premises, it must be through the utterances of some one else than the partisan politician.

It is true that many other unworthy influences operate in the employment

and retention of incompetent teachers; but all other influences, either inside or outside the profession, dwindle into insignificance when compared with the baleful effects of partisan politics. It is natural, therefore, that in any discussion looking toward practical results in rendering the teacher's tenure more secure and the teacher's career more attractive, practical politics as a factor in school elections and appointments should receive a large share of attention. Yet before this phase of the subject can be adequately treated certain ideals must be explained, to serve as standards of comparison when forces external to the profession are to be considered.

In the first place, the good of the profession requires that persons of special ability and adaptation shall be selected

as teachers, and that these persons, after having received a liberal scholastic training, shall prepare themselves for the work by a thorough course in the science and the art of teaching. The schools in this country that have attracted attention through the excellence of their work have enforced a standard whose lowest limit includes a course of study equivalent to high school work for four years, supplemented by a normal school course of one or two or three years, or the equivalent of this preparation gained in that dearer but still more effective school, experience. It is highly desirable, too, that the inducements to enter the primary and grammar grades be made sufficiently

great to lead college-bred men and women to turn their attention to this work, especially in the administrative and supervisory tasks of elementary education, in which their riper scholarship and fuller discipline could make themselves felt for good throughout the corps. To achieve this end, not only must the tenure of these teachers be made more safe, but the conditions for promotions within the ranks must be such as to secure certain recognition for unusual scholarship and administrative or teaching ability, without too much stress on length of service as a factor in advancement. Somewhat in proportion to the enlargement of horizon by liberal education do teachers dislike to be made dependent for appointment and successive promotions upon school boards, whose members, almost without exception, are without due respect for scholarship and are unfriendly to advanced professional training. To secure for any community, then, the best graduates of the colleges and normal schools, and to retain the services of these persons in the most vital parts of the school system, some inducement as yet practically untried must be found. A long stride in this direction will have been made when professionally trained superintendents shall have the power to select teachers, and to assign them to the grades for which, all things considered, they are best adapted.

All promotions to places of responsibility should in like manner be made by the superintendent, alone if in a small city, together with his assistants if in a city so large as to require assistants. Let the deciding power, in such case, rest with those professionally trained for this work, and teachers will soon come to recognize the justness of the method; and they will prefer to risk their professional advancement in the hands of those capable of appreciating real success rather than with a school committee or school board, whose members, though they be reputable citizens, are not capable of dis

I have no doubt that there are unjust and incompetent superintendents, supervisors, and principals; but the number of those who will prostitute their office to the service of their prejudices is relatively so small as not to be taken into account, while their ability to judge of professional merit in teaching is so far beyond that of the average committeeman or member of a school board as not to allow of comparison. Were professionally competent persons thus made the sole judges of competency, whether the custom be supported by statute or by the higher law of common consent of school board and community, teachers would be quick to see its benefits.

It has often been argued that after all these advantages of tenure have been secured for women teachers, a large proportion of them will marry, and abandon the profession after a short term of service, leaving their places to be filled by beginners; and that thus the average term of service is not determined by internal reasons, but by matters entirely outside the profession. There is some show of truth in the argument. But in my judgment it is a sufficient answer to say that long average tenure of service is not the sole object in view; for the main purpose is to give teachers security and serenity, so that they will prepare themselves better before entering the profession, and devote themselves more exclusively and happily to the work while they remain in it. Should the teacher, after a reasonable term of service, marry and leave the work, she goes out into the community carrying with