“Not so much noise, Pom,” chided Lucie. “Did you hear the pompier last night? I know you did for you trembled and whined your fear. Well, Paulette declares we would be safer in our old home, so we may take to the road again. Come, you must have your soldier clothes, for you may have to fight for us.”
Pom Pom backed away, for this was a game that he did not care for, but seeing that there was no help for it he meekly submitted to being dressed up in the funny little coat and cap which Annette and Lucie had made for him.
“Now come show yourself to the people,” said Lucie after he was attired. “You must let them see that there is a poilu here to help in the defense of the city.”
She carried him over to the open window and held him so he stood upright upon his hind legs, though he did not like this one little bit, and began to whine his protests. Lucie expostulated with him. “I am surprised at you, Pom Pom; a soldier of France, a poilu, to act as if he were afraid. That is no way to behave. You were brave enough when we were on the road. Here, here, show how you can sing the Marseillaise: ‘Aux armes, citoyens.’”
A very shrill, high-pitched whine was Pom Pom’s accompaniment to Lucie’s song, the whine increasing in shrillness as the song proceeded.
Presently Lucie was aware of an audience, for she heard a mirthful laugh, and looking across to the next window she saw the head of a bright-eyed little girl.
“How he is amusing, this dog,” said the child. “Is he yours, and what is his name?”
“Yes, he is mine and he is called Pom Pom,” Lucie replied.
“He must be much company for you.”
“Certainly I should be very lonely without him. I do not know in fact what would become of me without him when I am here so long alone.”