"'Colin,' disait Lisette, 'Je voudrais passer l'eau! Mais je suis trop pauvrette Pour payer le bateau!' 'Entrez, entrez, ma belle! Entrez, entrez toujours! Et vogue la nacelle Qui porte mes amours!" And old L. would smoke and listen with an air of heavenly beatitude almost pathetic. "Elle était bien gentille, Lisette--n'est-ce pas, petiot?--recommence!" (She was very nice, Lisette; wasn't she, sonny?--being again!) "Now both get up and wash and go to breakfast. Come here, Josselin--you see this little silver dagger" (producing it from under his pillow). "It's rather pointy, but not at all dangerous. My mother gave it me when I was just your age--to cut books with; it's for you. Allons, file! [cut along] no thanks!--but look here--are you coming with us à la chasse to-day?" "Non, M. Laferté!" "Pourquoi?--t'as pas peur, j'espère!" "Sais pas. J' n'aime pas les choses mortes--ça saigne--et ça n' sent pas bon--ça m'fait mal au coeur." (Don't know. I'm not fond of dead things. They bleed--and they don't smell nice--it makes me sick.) And two or three times a day would Barty receive some costly token of this queer old giant's affection, till he got quite unhappy about it. He feared he was despoiling the House of Laferté of all its treasures in silver and gold; but he soothed his troubled conscience later on by giving them all away to favorite boys and masters at Brossard's--especially M. Bonzig, who had taken charge of his white mouse (and her family, now quite grown up--children and grandchildren and all) when Mlle. Marceline went for her fortnight's holiday. Indeed, he had made a beautiful cage for them out of wood and wire, with little pasteboard mangers (which they nibbled away).