"Whom are you talking with, Pongo?"
"Who me talking with, Monsieur Georget; why, you see, with this fine flower, this lovely dahlia, with the little pink and white edges; but him naughty, not willing to stand straight, always hang his head. What a bad trick to hang his head, like a fox! You hear, flower? Hold up your head and look at the sun, or me will have something to say to you."
"It seems to me that it's a long time since you went to Paris, Pongo! I thought that Monsieur Malberg used to send you there now and then?"
"Yes, Monsieur Georget, master he send me to Paris when him have errands for me.—Oh! see little red flower over there hold his little head straight! Do you see, great coward, the little one stands better than you!"
"And you have no errands in Paris just now?"
"No, Monsieur Georget, and me very glad to stay here, where it's cool, not get tired travelling; though master, him always want me to take the carriage; but me not like the carriage; too crowded, dirty folks, not polite, make faces at Pongo! One day me going to fight a nurse who stuck out her tongue at me! Then driver come and make me get up on top with all the bundles!"
"But that wasn't right, Pongo! What! you were going to fight with a nurse,—a woman!"
"Why, she stuck her tongue out at me and call me gingerbread man."
"So, Pongo, you don't like it when you have to go to Paris?"
"No, no! And then when me leave Carabi, him always scratch me when me come back; for him forget me, and not mind me any more; but me go there all the same."