“‘Well then, what have we?’
“‘Look, you idiot.’
“As he spoke, the doctor put a little bundle in my arms. Just imagine, monsieur, that at first I thought it was a cheese. It was round and it had a funny smell; but on looking at it closely, I found it was a little boy, just out of his shell.”
“What does this mean, Jasmin? What! it was my son that you mistook for a cheese?”
“Bless my soul! when one has never seen a new-born child before, monsieur,—and it was the first one that I ever saw.”
“Take my son for a cheese! You are a stupid lout, and you shall have no present!”
“O monsieur le marquis! it isn’t that I regret the money, but I didn’t think that I had deserved your anger; especially, as on looking at the little boy that I had in my arms, I saw with delight that he has all our features—he is the living image of us!”
“What! the living image of us!—Have you been drinking, Jasmin?”
“Pardon me, monsieur le marquis, but it is my affection that carries me away! When I say we, my dear master knows very well that I mean him! In fact, it is your noble face, monsieur, your fine aquiline nose, your pretty little chin; and he will have your fine teeth, which you no longer have. I would bet that he will have them.”
The old marquis could not help smiling, and he replied in a milder tone: