Our young bride and groom laughed at what they heard and made ready to go before the mayor. Mamma Germeuil followed them into the cabriolet; all the peasants surrounded Master Bonneau, who marched at their head, with Fanfan beside him, carrying the famous fowl on a platter, because Edouard had insisted that it should be submitted to the examination of experts. The procession passed through the village thus, and on its way to the mayor’s office, was momentarily increased by the curious folk of the village, to whom that event was a piece of good fortune. At last they reached the mayor’s house and requested to speak with him. “He hasn’t time to listen to you now,” said the servant; “he is just going to sit down to dinner.” “But he must judge our dispute,” said Bonneau. “And he must judge this fowl,” said Edouard with a laugh. “Oho! there’s a fowl in it, is there?” said the servant; “oh, well! that makes a difference; I will go and tell monsieur that it is about a fowl, and that he must attend to it.” The servant went to her master, and explained the matter so fully that the mayor, understanding nothing about it, decided at last to leave his guests for a moment, and to go to his audience room. In those days, the mayor of the village was not a genius; he had just had a summer-house built at the foot of his garden; and as he was delighted with that little building, the idea of which he himself had conceived, and which he seemed to fear that people would think that he had seen somewhere else, he had caused to be written over the door: “This Summer-House was Built Here.” Profound silence reigned in the assemblage when the mayor appeared. “Where is the fowl which is the subject of dispute?” he asked gravely. “Monsieur le maire, it isn’t a fowl simply, it is a dinner that they refuse to pay me for,” said Master Bonneau, stepping forward. “A dinner! That’s a matter of some consequence! Did they eat it?” “No, monsieur,” said Edouard, “and you see in this fowl a specimen of it.” “Examine the bill, monsieur le maire, and you will see that it is perfectly fair.” “Let us see the bill--fresh eggs----” “They were hard.” “Never mind, he who breaks the glasses pays for them; consequently he who breaks the eggs ought to pay for them.” “Rabbit stew----” “We found a cup-and-ball in it.” “That doesn’t concern the rabbits. Besides, cup-and-ball isn’t capable of turning the sauce sour.--Let us go on: a capon----” “Here it is, monsieur le maire; just feel it and smell it.” The mayor motioned to Fanfan to approach; but the little scullion, abashed at the sight of so many people, held the plate forward with a trembling hand, and the fowl rolled on the floor. The so-called capon made a sound like that of a child’s drum when it falls to the ground. “Oho! it seems a little dry,” said the mayor, examining it. “That’s because it was brought here in the sun,” said Bonneau; “that burned it just a bit.”