MAX RANDER'S FRENCH EGGS.

BY MATTHEW WHITE, JUN.

Shortly after my call upon the young noblemen, father and mother returned, but only to start off at once with Thad and me for Paris. Remembering my experiences in Germany, and finding that the Frenchmen were even harder to understand than the Germans, as they seemed to speak a whole sentence just as if it were one word, I determined to be extra careful whenever I went out.

But as I was taking my very first walk on the boulevard in front of the hotel, a young fellow with a wild sort of expression in his eye stopped me and began "parlez-vooing" away, with his arms flopping about like water-wheels. Of course I thought I ought to say something, and as I didn't know anything else in the language I replied, "Oui," which made the young man look at me so queerly as to convince me that I must have given my consent to do some horrible deed.

In my confusion I cried out, "Oh no, I don't mean that!" upon which the fellow began to laugh awfully, and then it turned out that he was English and had taken me for French. He had asked what line of omnibuses ran nearest to the Champ de Mars, and when I answered "Yes," you can imagine why he stared at me.

This affair having ended all right, I was thrown a little off my guard; so when mother, who was suffering from loss of appetite, asked me to go out to one of the suburbs and bring in a basket of fresh eggs a friend had promised to send her, I felt no fears of any unpleasant consequences.

As I started she placed in my hands the pretty little basket with, "Now, Max, above all things, don't drop this, and be very careful to allow no one to touch it but yourself."

I declared I would stand by the eggs to the last, and promising to return with them as speedily as possible, set out for Neu— But there! as I never could pronounce the name of the place, there's no use in my attempting to spell it.

It was a long distance from the hotel, but as a line of street-cars ran right past the house, and mother told me that the number was painted in big figures on the gate post, I was not afraid of losing my way.

On reaching the car I saw that there was a crowd of people on both the front and back platforms, and was wondering if there was any room for me, when I suddenly discovered to my amazement that there was nobody at all inside. I squeezed through the crowd, and presently the car started, with six or seven persons standing on each platform, and not a soul sitting down but myself.

I puzzled over the reason for this during the whole ride, and never found it out until mother's lady friend, at the end of it, told me that only half-fare was charged outside.

On hearing this, I affirmed that in my opinion the pleasure of standing next the driver was worth double the money, and hinted that I would much prefer returning home in that exalted locality. However, Mrs. Freemack begged that I would not think of doing so with a basket of eggs to guard; and after she had put on her hat and gone out to the gate with me, to make sure the car would stop, I stepped carefully aboard and took a seat inside. The basket I established safely on my knees, with both arms encircling it by way of protection.

Just as we reached the city gates a man came up and got into the car. He did not sit down, but glanced at the lady, the girl, and the soldier, and then at—the basket on my lap. With a quick stride he placed himself in front of me, and put out his hand to catch up the treasure in my charge, calling upon me at the same time to vous-vous something or other, in very stern tones.

Of course no American boy was going to stand being robbed in this daring daylight fashion without making an attempt at defending himself; so I grasped the basket with a firmer grip, and pressed it closer to my heart, as I cried out, "Don't touch this, if you please!"

You see, I never could remember that nobody would understand my English; and besides, it comes a great deal more natural to stand up for your rights in an easy language like your own.

Well, the man stood and looked at me a minute when I said that, while the old lady, the little girl, and the soldier all moved toward me, staring as hard as if I had suddenly been transformed into a three-legged chicken.

"What's the matter? what do you want?" I continued, still tightly hugging the basket.

Another outburst of French followed, in which the other three passengers, and also the driver and conductor, joined, and I began to grow somewhat alarmed.

Still, there were the eggs I had promised to guard, and I was determined not to give up that basket; so I planted my arms firmly on the cover, and sat there confronting "my man" like a dragon—at least I hope he thought so. By this time two other men had entered the car, and my persecutor left me for an instant to speak with them.

This was my opportunity, and with the basket still pressed close to my breast, I sprang up and made a dash for the door. But alas! that soldier saw me just in time to put out his foot and seek to stay my course. And this he did most effectually; for I tripped, and fell full length to the floor, and might have been badly hurt had not the basket acted as a sort of cushion to receive me, for of course it went down under me.

And the eggs! There were two dozen of them, and they and I and the bottom of the car were all "scrambled" together with a vengeance before I got up. Oh, how I wished I was young enough to cry, as I heard the roars of laughter!

But I had one consolation: nobody wanted to touch either me or the basket after that, and I was left in peace to wipe off my jacket with my pocket-handkerchief as the car rolled on its way again into Paris.

I took the basket and a few of the egg-shells home with me, where I learned from father that there is a sort of custom-house at every gate of the city, and that if I had only shown the man what I was carrying, it would probably have been all right. It seems Mrs. Freemack forgot to tell me about it.

Somehow I am not as fond of omelet as I used to be.