Part 54 (2/2)

”England, Ireland, Scotland, Malta, Jersey and Guern-sey, the Ionian Islands, the Hebrides, the Shetlands, and the Orkneys.”

”Yes, yes, my lad; but there are other states you forgot to mention.”

”What are they?” replied the child, not the least disconcerted.

”Spain, Russia, Austria, Prussia, France,” answered Paganel.

”They are provinces, not states,” said Toline.

”Well, that beats all!” exclaimed Paganel, tearing off his spectacles.

”Yes,” continued the child. ”Spain--capital, Gibraltar.”

”Admirable! perfect! sublime! And France, for I am French, and I should like to know to whom I belong.”

”France,” said Toline, quietly, ”is an English province; chief city, Calais.”

”Calais!” cried Paganel. ”So you think Calais still belongs to the English?”

”Certainly.”

”And that it is the capital of France?”

”Yes, sir; and it is there that the Governor, Lord Napo-leon, lives.”

This was too much for Paganel's risible faculties. He burst out laughing. Toline did not know what to make of him. He had done his best to answer every question put to him. But the singularity of the answers were not his blame; indeed, he never imagined anything singular about them. However, he took it all quietly, and waited for the professor to recover himself. These peals of laughter were quite incomprehensible to him.

”You see,” said Major McNabbs, laughing, ”I was right. The pupil could enlighten you after all.”

”Most a.s.suredly, friend Major,” replied the geographer. ”So that's the way they teach geography in Melbourne! They do it well, these professors in the Normal School! Europe, Asia, Africa, America, Oceanica, the whole world belongs to the English. My conscience! with such an ingenious education it is no wonder the natives submit. Ah, well, Toline, my boy, does the moon belong to England, too?”

”She will, some day,” replied the young savage, gravely.

This was the climax. Paganel could not stand any more. He was obliged to go away and take his laugh out, for he was actually exploding with mirth, and he went fully a quarter of a mile from the encampment before his equilibrium was restored.

Meanwhile, Glenarvan looked up a geography they had brought among their books. It was ”Richardson's Compendium,” a work in great repute in England, and more in agreement with modern science than the manual in use in the Normal School in Melbourne.

”Here, my child,” he said to Toline, ”take this book and keep it. You have a few wrong ideas about geography, which it would be well for you to rectify. I will give you this as a keepsake from me.”

Toline took the book silently; but, after examining it attentively, he shook his head with an air of incredulity, and could not even make up his mind to put it in his pocket.

By this time night had closed in; it was 10 P. M. and time to think of rest, if they were to start betimes next day. Robert offered his friend Toline half his bed, and the little fellow accepted it. Lady Helena and Mary Grant withdrew to the wagon, and the others lay down in the tent, Paganel's merry peals still mingling with the low, sweet song of the wild magpie.

But in the morning at six o'clock, when the suns.h.i.+ne wakened the sleepers, they looked in vain for the little Australian. Toline had disappeared. Was he in haste to get to the Lachlan district? or was he hurt by Paganel's laughter? No one could say.

But when Lady Helena opened her eyes she discovered a fresh branch of mimosa leaves lying across her, and Paganel found a book in his vest pocket, which turned out to be ”Richardson's Geography.”

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