send me."

"And how do you contrive to pass your time? For so active a man, the
change is very great."

"Oh, that is easy enough. I am very fond of poetry, and have such a good
memory that I know volumes of it by heart. There is nothing pleasanter
than repeating verses that you like,--except, perhaps, making verses
yourself."

"Do you ever compose?"

"I? It has always been my favorite pastime. Would you like to hear some
of my verses?"

The sympathizing father was, of course, too happy; and M---- recited, in
his most effective manner, a sonnet, not very complimentary to
eavesdroppers and spies. A shadow passed over the monk's face; but he
was too well trained to let out his feelings prematurely; and resuming
the conversation as if nothing had occurred to disturb his equanimity,
he told M---- in his softest tone that he hoped there had been nothing
in his treatment to complain of. M---- sprang to his feet.

"Oh, this, by Heaven, is too much, even from you! Nothing to complain
of! To tear the father of a family from the arms of his wife and
children, a physician from patients who are looking to him for life and
health,--and nothing to complain of!"

It was just the question he wanted; and partly from design, and partly
from irrepressible indignation, he poured out a torrent of invective and