One day I found the cage open, and my sparrow had gone. Much weeping, lamentation, and woe followed, and finally maternal intervention.
"Who left the door open?" she asked Hippolyte.
"I did, madame," he replied, with as much glee as though he had done the cleverest thing imaginable.
"What did you do that for?"
"Oouf! the poor little beast's cage smelt as though it needed fresh air."
There was nothing to say in reply. Did not my mother herself open the doors and windows of rooms which needed fresh air, and order the servants always to do the same under similar circumstances?
They gave me another sparrow, and instructed Hippolyte to keep its cage cleaner, and so prevent any smell.
I do not remember if he obeyed properly; for another event took up the attention of our household.