"SHE PULLED THEM BOTH DOWN UPON THEIR NOSES."
"Ah! I guess she is in France," said the beggar: "she will not soon be back."
Perched on a rich rod, a handsome paroquet was screeching at some distance from the table: "Fly quickly! fly quickly! Don't stop in this palace!"
Alméric went over to her.
"Why should we fly?" he asked: "are you not happy here?"
"Alas!—look at me," replied the paroquet; "I wished to be beautiful: I desired claws of gold, ruby wings; and now I am condemned to rest here all my life, motionless, as you see; for it is impossible to fly with wings made of rubies or to walk with feet made of gold."
Near the window they observed a large cat. It did not stir from where it lay, and appeared to be very discontented.
"What is the matter with you, puss?" inquired Alméric.
"Excuse me," replied the cat, "is it a horse, a serpent, a donkey, a man, or a woman to whom I have the honour of speaking? I can't see; pray excuse me."
"You are blind?" said Alméric, compassionately.