“What is it you ask, my good fellow?”
“I ask if your lordship feels disposed to make the purchase of an extraordinary and beautiful wooden horse.”
“I have rocking-horses of all sorts and sizes,” rejoined Eusèbe.
“I doubt it not, your Highness.”
This title of highness completed the work of turning the little boy’s head; and putting on the air of being a very great person, he said,—
“Why, you seem to know who I am.”
“Indeed, who does not know your lordship?”
Now of course this cunning fellow did not really suppose that Eusèbe was either a prince or a lord, but saw very well that he was a spoilt child, and thought it would be a good opportunity for selling Cressida—for Cressida it was that he was offering,—and he dared not sell it publicly.
Mr. and Mrs. de Malassise, who had walked on a little in front, now stopped, and the former called out, “What’s the matter?”
“Sir,” replied the man, when he came up to them, “I have a beautiful wooden horse to sell, which walks and moves about like a real horse.”