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that case, the dress is less elaborate, and there is more freedom and simplicity in the practice.

It is a remarkable sight when the master is followed by ten or twenty pupils, his pole reminding one of the magnet which brings swans or fishes to the bread in a basin of water, in the old-fashioned toy which astonishes children. The second pupil has a hand on the shoulder of the first, and swims with the other three limbs; the third on the shoulder of the second; and so on—looking like a shoal of mermaids. When so thoroughly at ease as to amuse themselves for a long time in the water, the ladies sometimes grow hungry; and then is seen another remarkable sight—not quite so pretty. They rush from the bath to a confectioner’s shop which opens upon it, and may be seen presently swimming with one hand, and with the other eating their lunch, completely at ease.

After learning the art in fresh water, it is mighty easy to swim in the sea, from the density of the water, and scarcely possible to sink. A woman who knows how to float is safe for many hours in the sea, as far as keeping on the surface is concerned. Among breakers or sharks, or in extreme cold, the peril is not of drowning simply. The simple peril of drowning might be reduced to something very small, if everybody could swim.

These particulars of the Paris school may afford some guidance as to how to set about getting women and children taught what they all ought to know; and in the hope that something may arise out of them, I offer them to the readers of Once a Week.

V.

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FAIRY MAY.

I.

ome hither, little Fairy May,
⁠My bride if you will be,
I’ll give you silks and satins bright
⁠Most beautiful to see;
I’ll bring you to my castle hall,
⁠’Mid lords and ladies gay:”
“No thank you, sir, I’d rather not,”
⁠Quoth little Fairy May!

II.

Says mother, “He’s a proper youth;
⁠Say yes, girl, there’s a dearie:”
“Say no, Miss Pride?” her father cried,
⁠“I’d only like to hear ye!”
But still, for all that they could do,
⁠And all that they could say,
“No thank you, sir; I’d rather not,”
⁠Quoth little Fairy May!

 

III.

“Come Fairy May, your words unsay,
⁠You silly little goosie!
You know within your heart of hearts,
⁠You wouldn’t like to lose me:
You’ll never see me here again,
⁠If once I go away:”
“Well, sir! and much I care for that!”
⁠Quoth little Fairy May.

 

IV.

“Lose such a prize!” her father cries,
⁠“Say yes—or else I’ll make ye!”
Her mother scolds—“A wilful chit!
⁠I’ve half a mind to shake ye!”
But still for all that they could do,
⁠And all that they could say,
“No thank you, sir, I’d rather not,”
⁠Quoth little Fairy May.

C. W. Goodhart.