From Frazier's Magazine.
JACQUES COCAST,
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0Thank God for my hunch!'' cried jacques
Cocast, then eleven years old, escaped from the
pitying hands of Martin Flean, the miller, who,
casting compassionate glance at Cocast's un-
seemly load, exclaimed:


''Well, the saints have burthened the enough
go, wouldn't beat a hunchback.''


'sThank God for my hunch!'' were the CRATE
full words of the apple-stea1ing Jacques, and he
followed his lighter heeled companions, who, on
the first ALARM had scampered safely offfrom the
miller's orchard, leaving their deformed co-mate
to the vengeance of the despoiled.. The miller,
as we have shown, was merciful, and Jacques
Cocast, the hunchback, went his way unbruis-
ed.a


Jacques Cocast grew up the living aything OF
the boys of the village. He was their drudge,
their jest, their scapegoat. His good humor turn
ed bitterness itself to merriment, and at times the
tears starting to his eyes, he would laugh them
down, and without knowing it, play the practical
philosopher


'Out, ye imp of deformity!' cried Cocast's
stepmother, at least once day whereupon JAG.
ques, to the increasing ire of his fathers wife
would meekly cry,


"Thank God for my hunch!''
Left to HIMSELF now spurned, and now at leas
endured by his growing companions, Jacque:
Cocast made friend of his book, and founded
the exceeding reward of such friendship. HI
could read, write and cypher, to the shame of ma
ny of his seniors. Jacques Cocast's father tool
sudden pride in his own misshapen flesh, AMI
Cocast's wife storned at her stepson with increas
ing vigor. G


The notary wanted a clerk. All eyes wer
turned upon Jacques as the very lad for the OF
fee. The notary himself condescended to can
vass the pretensions of Jacques to the dignity
Already Jacques felt himself installed, when