Belette singled him out from all the rest of her admirers, knowing well enough what it would mean to me; and she had no trouble at all with him, you may be sure.--A few smiles and glances out of those eyes of hers were quite enough to do his business. What son of Adam can resist the wiles of these serpents? She would put on her innocent unconscious air, turn her long neck and glance at him under her fringed eyelashes, flash her white teeth, lick her red lips with her little pointed tongue, then walk away, her whole supple body swaying as she moved. Pinon lost his head completely, and so Belette soon had the two of us stuck up on the wall, watching her every step. She drew us both on, so it was not long before we were ready to fly at each other’s throats; but when she thought the thing had gone far enough, she would throw a little cold water on the pair of us. Much as this last trick angered me, I could not help laughing at her, clever little cat! but it drove Pinon half out of his wits;--(a joke was always a sealed book to him, but he would roar at one that no one else could make head or tail of.)--When she was cold to him, he would lose his temper, stamp and swear at her like a madman, and she rather liked this rough sort of wooing, so different from my way with her. She and I were really of the same Gallic breed--there was much more affinity between us than there was between her and Pinon, who was simply a ramping, stamping sort of a brute; but from pure caprice, or perhaps to vex me, she showed him the greatest favor, smiling at him with lips and eyes full of the sweetest promises; but when it came to keeping them, and he was ready to burst with pride in his conquest, then she would turn and march off, leaving him in the lurch. All this was droll enough to me, but Pinon could not see the joke, and would turn on me like a tiger, because, forsooth! I was taking his girl away from him! It came to such a pass, that he actually told me to take myself out of the way; I replied that the very same words had been on the tip of my tongue. “Well then, I shall have to punch your head for you!” “It may come to that,” said I, “but I should hate to do it.” “Me too,” said he. “Now, Breugnon, one cock is enough in a farmyard; do you get out of this, like a sensible fellow.” “By all means,” said I, “only you are the one to quit the premises, she was mine before you ever saw her.” This made him furious, and he called me a low-down liar, and swore that Belette was his, and that I should never touch a hair of her head. “Do you ever look at yourself in the glass, my poor friend?” said I. “She is meat for your masters, in other words for me, so go back where you came from and dig turnips.” “Listen to me, Breugnon,” said he. “She loves me best.”--I shook my head. “Will you leave it to her?” he persisted, “and promise to get out if she takes me?” “Agreed!” said I, and held out my hand.