light. The report of an occasional blacking
of their own shoes by Our Boys, and of the
setting the dinner-table in turn by Our Girls,
would make some mothers faint at the
horridly vulgar idea: while others would
calmly receive the news with a smile or even
with a nod of approbation.

But, if you prefer your boy to have two
tongues in his head, instead of one; if you
desire to qualify him for the office, the shop,
the warehouse, the road, Continental as well
as British; if you are pent up in London,
Leeds, or Manchester, and wish your youngster
to breathe fresh air, although you yourself
are compelled to breathe foul; while you
are assured that their mental education makes
some little way at the same time that their
bodily education is furthered, not only by
sufficient food, but by out-door exercise, which
they cannot have at home—in that case, you
may at least come and look whether further
details correspond with your list of desiderata,
and may inquire within with some slight
chance of being suited.  See with your own
eyes, and judge for yourselves," is the best
advice that can be given to parents. They
cannot then complain of having been deceived
by false recommendations. A few hours'
journey by sea and land is not a heavy price
to pay for the assurance of a child's well-
being.

As a general rule, and it is impossible that
even my details should be otherwise than
general, Our Boys and Girls are well and
plentifully fed, and kindly treated.

"You dare not pinch your boys for food,"
I said to a master, "even if you were inclined
to do so."

"Certainly, I dare not," he replied; "it
would ruin me in a month."

One point here is, that you get a French
education combined with an English one.
Elsewhere, in towns of greater educational
pretensions—in St. Omer, Lille, Douai, or
Paris—you have a good French education
only, with English lessons certainly, if you
like. Our boys get up at six in the morning
all the year round; they go to bed at eight
in winter, and at nine in summer. They
breakfast at eight, dine at twelve, have a
slice of bread if they like at five, and sup at
seven. Their beverage at breakfast is milk
(and our milk is different to what you get in
London), or sometimes coffee; at dinner,
water, or wine-and-water; at supper, milk.
As hours of study; from half-past six to
eight, may be devoted to arithmetic and
mathematics generally; from nine till a
quarter to twelve, to French; and from two
till five, to French and English. After supper,
there is study in the evening, as a preparation
for the lessons of the morrow. Three
times a week, the hours of recreation are
employed by such pupils as learn extra
accomplishments—dancing, fencing, German,
Italian, music, &c. And then, three days a
week there is time for walks and exercise
after the five o'clock schooling is done. The
long summer evenings afford excellent
opportunities for free and healthful rambles across
the fields and meadows—sometimes for
bathing. Thursday is often a half-holiday,
and Saturday always a whole holiday. In
fine weather, our boys often start after
breakfast, taking their dinners with them, to
spend the whole day in sylvan sport,
accompanied by one or two of the professors. A
common rendezvous is frequently the column
in our forest, which marks the spot where
Blanchard and Jeffery's balloon fell after
crossing the Channel. And the forest is not
like a London park, with blackened trees in
rows, with a sooty, gas-laden atmosphere,
and with a prohibition to leave the gravel-
walk or walk on the grass, but an
interminable wood, where thousands of acres of
oak and beech are cut down, let to grow, and
cropped, with the same regularity as a
Norfolk farm. In the forest, our boys learn the
aspect of a real bird's nest; how to take the
slow-worm alive, and how to kill the adder;
in what thicket to capture the dormouse;
where the woodruff springs, and the violet
scents the air—because certain forest-violets
are scentless. As for nuts, our boys won't
let us have any nuts, but gather them before
the kernels have filled their shells. To get
nuts in the forest, you must extend your
search beyond the length of our young gentlemen's
tether. I must cut short the mention
of our boys' whole holiday in the paradisaical
woods, for fear of causing town-pent children
to pine.

After his return to England, the schoolboy
(no longer) writes to his former master, some
such letter as this, which is genuine:

Dear sir,—You will no doubt be very happy to
hear that I have succeeded in obtaining a very good
situation in a merchant's counting-house in this town.
I cannot sufficiently thank you for the kindness I
experienced whilst under your care. It has proved
most useful to me; for I am fully convinced that,
but for my knowledge of the French language, I
should not be at present in nearly so good a position
as I am, and that knowledge I attribute mainly
to the instructions I received from you, though I flatter
myself that I learnt a great deal by attention to my
studies, both French and German,
                                                    Yours  very truly,
                                                    THOMAS BLANK.

For further particulars respecting Our Boys
and Girls, apply, not to me, who am merely
a looker-on without any interest in the
matter—a chiel who takes notes and prints
them, and simply a lover of truth and fair
play—but to some of the worthy inhabitants
of Guines, Pas-de-Calais, France.