“Oh, no! that isn’t what brings me here; but I thought that perhaps I left a pretty little stick of mine last night.”
“A stick! you must ask the children about that; they are the ones who find everything that is left here. They are as smart as little demons.—Théodore, Alexandre, daughter——”
“Oh, don’t disturb them.”
“Yes, yes; I am not sorry to have you see them, they are so cunning in their answers.”
I dared not say that I had already seen the cunning creatures. Their papa continued to call them. Théodore appeared on all fours, carrying Alexandre on his back, the latter having the dog in his arms. The better to imitate a horse, Théodore had put on long paper ears, and the little girl was whipping him behind with a bunch of quills.
I laughed at the picture, and Giraud considered it very amusing at first. But in a moment he recognized his black silk cap on the dog’s head, and he did not laugh any more.
“What, you rascals! you have taken my silk cap to put on Azor!”
“I did it to make a Croquemitaine of him, papa.”
“I have forbidden you a hundred times to touch any of my things.—And you, mademoiselle, what are you whipping your brother with?”
“Papa, with——”