“Really!” ejaculated Eugene. “Is that a possible thing?”
“Yes,” said the sergeant; “they sleep in boxes filled with hay. My wife says it is ‘sweet’ to see the ducklings and kittens brought up together. She has a very kind heart for animals, has my wife.”
“I can well imagine that Mrs. Hardy is always kind,” said Eugene.
The sergeant glanced at him sharply. The boy spoke in the tones of ordinary politeness, not warmly by any means.
“Do you keep no pigeons?” Eugene went on.
“Yes, a few,” said the sergeant.
“And where is the place that they live,—the pigeonnier, as one says in France?”
“In the top of the duck-house. They have no house of their own.”
“In France nearly every country house has a pigeonnier,” said Eugene.