The dog straightway began to utter, with wonderful volubility, a series of loud, shrill, yelping snaps, jerking itself up and down on its haunches, and flinging its paws about as if it had the hydrophobia. The spectators were enraptured. "It is actually her voice," said one. "Only the dog is too good-looking for her," said another. "_Voilà petite!_" vociferated a third, holding a huge piece of bluish-tinted beetroot sugar to the performer, when suddenly the group was broken by a fussy, fat old gentleman with a white baggy cravat, very snuffy, and a pair of heavy gold spectacles. "_Je dis--moi!_" shouted the new comer, in violent wrath; "_que c'est abominable ce que vous faites là Père Grignon._" A murmur of suppressed laughter went through the group. Père Grignon looked considerably taken aback, and the speaker aimed a hearty kick at Niniche, who dodged away round the stove. It was evident that he was no other than the injured and maligned Tetard himself. Instantly he broke into loud objurgations. He knew how that atrocious old _Père Grignon_ had taught his dog to malign him, the _bête misérable_! But as for it, he would poison it--shoot it--drown it; and as for Père Grignon, who ought to have more sense, all the quartier knew what he was--an _imbécille_, who was always running about carrying tales, and making mischief. But he would appeal to the authorities; he would lay his complaint before the commisary of the quartier; he would--he would--. At this moment the excited orator caught sight of the offending poodle slipping to the door, and instantly sprung vigorously after him:-- "_Tenez-tenez_; don't touch Niniche--it's not his fault!" exclaimed the poodle's proprietor. But the dog had bolted, with Tetard in hot chase of his imitator, and vowing that he should be _écraséd_ and _abiméd_ as soon as caught. There was, of course, great laughter at the whole proceeding; and then the group betook themselves to the marble slabs and dominoes--the instructor of the offending quadruped coolly lighting his pipe, as he muttered that old Tetard was, after all, a _bon enfant_, and that over a _petit verre_ he would always listen to reason.