"Colonel Marion," said he, pressing the tobacco in his pipe at the same time, "can you answer me ONE question?""Most gladly, general, and a THOUSAND if I can!""Thank you, colonel, but ONE will do."

"Be pleased then, sir, to say on."

"Well, colonel, can you tell me how old I am?""That's a tough question, general."

"TOUGH, colonel! pray how do you make that out?""Why, sir, there is a strange January and May sort of contrast between your locks and your looks that quite confuses me.

By your locks you seem to be in the winter, by your looks in the summer of your days.""Well but, colonel, striking the balance between the two, whereabouts do you take me to be?""Why, sir, in the spring and prime of life; about forty.""Good heavens, forty!"

"Yes, sir, that's the mark; there or thereabouts.""What! no more?"

"No, sir, not a day more; not an hour."

"Upon honor?"

"Yes, sir, upon honor; upon a soldier's honor.""Ha! -- ha! -- ha! -- Well, colonel, I would not for a thousand guineas that your riflemen shot as wide off the mark as you guess.

The British would not dread them as they do. Forty years old, indeed! why what will you say, colonel, when I tell you that I have been two and forty years a soldier."Here we all exclaimed, "Impossible, general! impossible.""I ask your pardon, gentlemen," replied he, "it is not at all impossible, but very certain. Very certain that I have been two and forty years a soldier in the service of the king of France!""O wonderful! two and forty years! Well then, at that rate, and pray how old, general, may you take yourself to be?""Why, gentlemen," replied he, "man and boy, I am now about sixty-three.""Good heaven! sixty-three! and yet such bloom, such flesh and blood!""If you are so surprised, gentlemen, at my looks at sixty-three, what would you have thought had you seen my father at eighty-seven.""Your father, general! he cannot be alive yet, sure.""Alive! yes, thank God, and alive like to be, I hope, for many a good year to come yet. Now, gentlemen, let me tell you a little story of my father.

The very Christmas before I sailed for America, I went to see him.

It was three hundred miles, at least, from Paris. On arriving at the house I found my dear old mother at her wheel, in her eighty-third year, mind gentlemen!! spinning very gaily, while one of her great-granddaughters carded the wool and sung a hymn for her. Soon as the first transport of meeting was over, I eagerly asked for my father. `Do not be uneasy, my son,' said she, `your father is only gone to the woods with his three little great-grandchildren, to cut some fuel for the fire, and they will all be here presently, I'll be bound!' And so it proved;for in a very short time I heard them coming along. My father was the foremost, with his axe under his arm, and a stout billet on his shoulder; and the children, each with his little load, staggering along, and prattling to my father with all their might.

Be assured, gentlemen, that this was a most delicious moment to me.

Thus after a long absence, to meet a beloved father, not only alive, but in health and dear domestic happiness above the lot of kings: also to see the two extremes of human life, youth and age, thus sweetly meeting and mingling in that cordial love, which turns the cottage into a paradise."In telling this little story of his aged father and his young relatives, the general's fine countenance caught an animation which perfectly charmed us all.

The eyes of Marion sparkled with pleasure. "General," said he, "the picture which you have given us of your father, and his little great-grandchildren, though short, is extremely interesting and delightful. It confirms me in an opinion which I have long entertained, which is, that there is more happiness in low life than in high life; in a cottage than in a castle.