"It is the more ingenious in that it can be adapted to any possible occasion."
"And you, aunt?"
Madame Duponceau was delighted with the verses, and said to the boy, after giving him a kiss:
"Go and find the maid, and tell her to give you Coco to play with."
Master Aristoloche disappeared; it was his brother's turn to recite his congratulations; but young Narcisse was sulky; he rebelled.
"Well, monsieur," said his mother, "come and repeat your poetry to your aunt."
"No, I won't; it makes me sick."
"What do I hear, Monsieur Narcisse? What is the meaning of that answer?"
"I mean what I say; you always let Aristoloche play with Coco, and never let me."
"Will you hold your tongue—a great tall boy like you! just beginning to learn to write. You, want to play with the little rabbit!"