"That comes from the fact that to-day I have nothing to give you excepting kisses—not a single flower. They are all withered in my garden, and I do not like to go there any more, for there are no more bouquets to pluck for my dear mamma queen. Mamma, this is my bouquet."
And he kissed and caressed the queen afresh, and brought a glow to her eyes and a smile to her lips.
"Come now, my child, you see that the abbe is waiting, and I believe it is time for the study-hours to begin. "What comes first to-day?"
"We have first, grammar," answered the abbe, laying the needful books upon the little table at which the dauphin always took his lessons in the presence of the queen.
"Grammar!" cried the dauphin; "I wish it were history. That I like, but grammar I hate!"
"That comes because you make so many mistakes in it," said the abbe; "and, certainly, grammar is very hard."
The child blushed. "Oh, it is not on that account," he said. "I do not dislike grammar because it is hard, but merely because it is tedious."
"And I will wager that on that account you have forgotten what we went over in our last grammar hour. We were speaking of the three comparatives. But you probably do not remember them."
"You are mistaken," replied the dauphin, smiling. "In proof, hear me. If I say, 'My abbe is a good abbe,' that is the positive. If I say, 'My abbe is better than another abbe,' that is the comparative. And," he continued, turning his eyes toward the queen with an expression of intense affection, "if I say, 'My mamma is the dearest and best of all mammas,' that is the superlative." [Footnote: The dauphin's own words.—See Beauchesne's "Louis XVII.," vol. i., p. 133.]
The queen drew the boy to her heart and kissed him, while her tears flowed down upon his auburn curls.