A STORY OF A WOODEN HORSE.
CHAPTER VII.
EUSÈBE AT PARIS.—HOW HE BECOMES THE OWNER OF CRESSIDA.
The course of my story obliges me now to follow the doings of Maurice’s cousin Eusèbe through one chapter. His goat Jeanne had died some time ago; to her had succeeded a monkey, then a dog; afterwards some birds, and last of all a lamb. With his usual caprice these had all been discarded in turn, and he had at this moment no animal to pet or to torment. It was a hot day towards the end of August, and Eusèbe lounged about in one easy chair after another, trying in vain to occupy or amuse himself. Suddenly, the idea occurred to him that he would like to pass a few days in Paris.
Now Mr. and Mrs. de Malassise were just thinking of going to stay for a few weeks at Dieppe, which was a place more suitable certainly for the hot weather than Paris. But Eusèbe had taken a fancy to Paris; and to gain his point, he acted the little comedy which always succeeded so well with his parents: he screamed, and rolled over and over on the ground like a mad child. They were frightened, and started off with him the very next morning, leaving the shady woods of Malassise for the dust of the Boulevard des Italiens, where they usually lodged when they came to Paris.
On the afternoon of their arrival, Eusèbe asked his father to take him for a walk as far as the square of the Bastille. He had heard that street-jugglers often performed their tricks there: and, hot as it was, he insisted that his mamma, a delicate weak little woman, should walk with them.
They had walked as far as the gate of St. Denis, when a man approached them, who had some little watches for sale fit for children. He went up to Eusèbe, who, although such a big boy, was not above stopping to look at the glittering watches with their bright chains attached. Then the man said in a low voice,—
“Would you like to buy a beautiful horse, my prince?”
This title of prince was pleasant to the ears of Eusèbe, and with an air of kind protection, he replied,—