“Asses dressed as men.”
“I don’t think so—that is to say—Ah! I see, it’s a metaphor!—That’s a very unkind thing to say.”
“Do you think so, monsieur? I don’t.”
The play suggested was adopted; then they desired a third, to begin the performance.
“Yes,” said Chambourdin, “when you take so much trouble to put yourselves in training, you must give full measure—a performance complet, like an omnibus. I am going to propose a jolly farce, a little one-act affair with three characters: Œil et Nez.”
“Oh, yes!” cried Dufournelle; “do you remember, Eléonore? when we saw it, you laughed so hard that—really you laughed too heartily.”
“I had already suggested that,” said little Astianax; “I know the part of Tityrus.”
“And I will be the Eye, if you choose,” laughed Madame Dufournelle.
“And I the Nose,” said Chambourdin.
“But what on earth can this play be in which there’s an Eye and a Nose?” queried Monsieur Camuzard, appealing once more to his neighbor. “I can’t imagine, can you, madame?”