Fiddéding, instead of enlightening her, swaggered towards the fence, and, after many failures, succeeded in climbing to it and in propping his tail against a post.
Then he flapped his gorgeous wings, and opened his beak to crow, but in the endeavor lost his balance, and with a dismal squawk fell to the ground. Sheepishly resigning himself to his fate, he tried to gain the ranks of the somniferous hens, but, not succeeding, fell down where he was, and hid his head under his wing.
A slight noise caught Rose's attention, and looking up, she found Jovite leaning against the fence, and grinning from ear to ear.
"Do you know what is the matter with the hens?" she asked.
"Yes, madame; if you come to the stable, I will show you what they have been taking."
Rose, with a grave face, visited the stable, and then instructed him to harness her pony to the cart and bring him around to the front of the house.
Half an hour later she was driving towards Weymouth. As it happened to be Saturday, it was market-day, and the general shopping-time for the farmers and the fishermen all along the Bay, and even from back in the woods. Many of them, with wives and daughters in their big wagons, were on their way to sell butter, eggs, and farm produce, and obtain, in exchange, groceries and dry goods, that they would find in larger quantities and in greater varieties in Weymouth than in the smaller villages along the shore.
Upon reaching Weymouth, she stopped on the principal street, that runs across a bridge over the lovely Sissiboo River, and leaving the staid and sober pony to brush the flies from himself without the assistance of her whip, she knocked at the door of her cousin's office.
"Come in," said a voice, and she was speedily confronted by Agapit, who sat at a table facing the door.
He dropped his book and sprang up, when he saw her. "Oh! ma chère, I am glad to see you. I was just feeling dull."