tag="{http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml}img"/>

And so, when school is out, and he sees the pig man’s dog again, he stalks by that astonished animal proudly.

History adds that he looked at Louisa out of the corner of his eye to see if she were looking. It must be admitted that with no ladies or young maidens in the world men might be less brave.

CATHERINE’S DAY

Five o’clock, and Miss Catherine is receiving her dolls. It is her day at home. The dolls don’t talk: the little genius that gave them smiles refused them speech. It must have been done for the good of the world, for if dolls could talk people would listen to no one else. However, the circle to-day is very animated. Miss Catherine talks for her visitors as well as for herself. She makes the questions and gives the answers.

“How are you, madame?—Very well, madame. I broke my arm yesterday morning going to buy some gloves, but it’s cured now.—Oh, that’s good. And how is your little girl?—She has the whooping cough.—Oh, what a pity! Does she cough much?—No, it’s a whooping cough that has no cough. You know, madame, I had two children last week?—Really? That makes four.—Four or five, I don’t know which. When you have so many you get confused.—You have a very pretty dress on.—Oh, I have still nicer ones at home—Do you go to the theatre?—Every evening.—I went yesterday to the opera, but Punch did not act, because a wolf ate him up.—I, my dear, go to a dance every day.—That’s very amusing.—Yes, I wear a blue dress and I dance with all the young people, the very nicest, generals, princes, confectioners.—You are as pretty as heart could wish to-day, little one.—It’s the springtime.—Yes, but too bad it snows.—I like the snow, because it’s so white.—Oh, but this is black snow.—Yes, isn’t it a horrid kind?”