"The deuce! Why, I could not drink that without being quite fuddled!"
"It was her usual quantity; perhaps that was the reason why she beat me of an evening. Well, at last we got up into our cock-loft; the Chouette double-locked the door; I threw myself on my knees, and asked her pardon for having eaten the barley-sugar. She did not answer me, but I heard her mumbling to herself, as she walked about the room, 'What shall I do this evening to this little thief, who has eaten all that barley-sugar? Ah, I see!' And she looked at me maliciously with her one green eye. I was still on my knees, when she suddenly went to a shelf and took down a pair of pincers."
"Pincers!" exclaimed the Chourineur.
"Yes, pincers."
"What for?"
"To strike you?" inquired Rodolph.
"To pinch you?" said the Chourineur.
"No, no," answered the poor girl, trembling at the very recollection.
"To pull out your hair?"
"No; to take out one of my teeth."