A great feast followed. Hours were early in those times the coronation was over, and all seated at the banquet at ten o'clock in the morning. At this feast Jeanne had a table for herself, where her loved parents were seated beside her.

After the banquet, the king demanded what he could do for her: let her ask what she would, and it should be done.

'Nothing,' she replied; 'I have not now one wish unsatisfied.'

'Nay, Jeanne; but your king would do something for you.'

Then, sire, let Domremy be henceforth free from taxes.' And henceforth, until the upsetting time of the Revolution, the tax-collector's entry against that little town was ever ‘Néant, à cause de la Pucelle.'

Jeanne's work was now done, her mission nobly fulfilled, and her one desire now was to return to her village home. She had a great love for the quiet old country life; and the meeting with her parents had awakened an intense longing to be again with them in the 'green fields of sweet Lorraine.' Would to God they had let her go! But the opposition to her proposal was so strong as to be altogether irresistible. Vainly she pleaded, 'The Lord has given me a work, and I have done it; let me go. He does not need me now to fight.' Her desire was overruled; the king would not part with her. She bade adieu to father and mother; never again were they to meet in this world. Alas! alas! it was a sad mistake!

Three days only were spent in Rheims; thence the king, accompanied by the Maid, and followed by his army, made what was more like a triumphal procession than a campaign. Vailly, Laon, Soissons, ChateauThierry, all sent their chief citizens to meet him, or to demand pardon for past disloyalty. While Jeanne had a voice in his councils, pardon was ever freely granted. Each day's march brought them nearer to Paris.

Stories from History.

241

'Press on, press on,' was the Maid's constant advice; but the indolent Charles was soon tired of pressing on; and there were her old enemies, who would rather the capital was not won for their king, than that she should win it.

Yet she did prevail on him to advance as far as the heights of St. Denis. No farther would he go; but he allowed her to lead an attack against the city. 'We shall sleep in Paris to-night,' she said; 'fear not.' She displayed as much military skill as valour in this attack; but she was not supported by the other divisions of the army. She held on under a shower of arrows, her standard-bearer was struck down dead beside her, and she herself wounded severely in the leg. She was carried to a sheltered spot, whence, though suffering very acutely, she directed the assault, refusing to be carried off the ground, till the Duke of Alençon came direct from the king to command her to return. It was not her fault that they did not sleep in Paris.

Disheartened by her failure, and more than ever convinced that her work was done, she resolved to return *.* to the humble home that, in the midst of her greatness, she sighed for. She took her fair armour and hung it up in the church of St. Denis, devoting it to Him who had given her the victory. But the king and nobles could not and would not spare her; and, in the most profound melancholy, she prepared to follow the king, who turned his back on all his new-made conquests, and set out for his quiet castle of Chinon, where he could enjoy a little hunting, and hawking, and gardening pursuits, much more to his taste than the toils and troubles of war.

K.

Q

THE TRUE MEMOIRS OF OUR DEAR PETS.

BY ANNA J. BUCKLAND,

AUTHOR OF 'NOBLE RIVERS AND THEIR STORIES,' ETC.

F

LUFFY was such a pretty rabbit! He was not a common English rabbit; but he was covered all over with long, soft hair, which used to blow about in the wind and look so funny. I think he was called an Angola He belonged to Cecil, who bought him when he was very young, and at that time he looked just like a

rabbit.

little round ball of down. Herbert and Cecil made a very nice hutch for him to live in, with a little trough in which to put his bran.

Very soon he became quite tame, and Cecil often brought him into the new room when we were there at play, where he used to run about, making such a noise upon the floor with his 'flumpers,' as we called his hind legs. Sometimes we used to make a staircase of wooden blocks, and Fluffy would hop up and down it, ever so many times. Fluffy had no little companions of his own kind, so he seemed always to be so pleased to play with us.

He was

We were all very fond of Fluffy, for he was such a good little rabbit, and not at all wild or cross. rather shy, though, about one thing, and that was washing his face. He used to lick his two front paws, and then rub them all over his face, standing up the while on his hind legs; but if ever he saw any one looking at him, he never would do it.

I have not many stories to tell about Fluffy, for his was rather an uneventful life, though his death was very terrible. One evening Cecil went to the hutch and took Fluffy out to show him to some one, and he supposes that he forgot to fasten the door of the hutch again, for the next morning, when he went to give Fluffy his breakfast, there was no rabbit in the hutch. Cecil thought he had got out perhaps into the garden, and he ran off directly to look for him, expecting to find that he had

done a great deal of mischief in eating up the young plants; but what was his horror to find Fluffy near the garden gate, quite dead!—indeed his head had been gnawed off, and his body was very much torn. There was no doubt that some cat had done this. It was not old Bea, though, for she was always a very good friend of Fluffy's; but the servants had sometimes seen a hideous, great Tom cat prowling about the garden, who came across from the cottages, the other side of the road, oppusite to our house, and we felt sure that it was this

THE TRUE MEMOIRS OF OUR DEAR PETS.

·

BY ANNA J. BUCKLAND,

AUTHOR OF NOBLE RIVERS AND THEIR STORIES,' ETC.

F

LUFFY was such a pretty rabbit! He was not a common English rabbit; but he was covered all over with long, soft hair, which used to blow about in the wind and look so funny. I think he was called an Angola rabbit. He belonged to Cecil, who bought him when he was very young, and at that time he looked just like a