Auguste, happy in the little fellow's joy, took pleasure in watching him. Laughter sits so well upon a little face of six years! A person who is fond of children cannot conceive how anyone can look with indifference on their tears. And yet there are people for whom a dog's yelping has more charm than the laughter of a child! It speaks well for their depth of feeling! As they went along, Coco sang and ran and played about Auguste, playing little tricks on him, for they were great friends already; at six years and a half one gives one's friendship as quickly as at twenty one gives one's heart. Auguste ran and played with the child; he chased him, caught him, and rolled with him on the grass, heedless of the fact that it stained his clothes, because the boy's laughter was so frank and true that it was often shared by his elegant companion. What! you will say, a dandy, a lady-killer, a butterfly of fashion, amuse himself playing in the fields with a little peasant boy? Why not, pray? Happy the man who, as he grows old, retains his taste for the simple pleasures of his youth! Henri IV walked about his room on all fours, carrying his children on his back. When surprised in that position by the ambassador of a foreign power, he asked him, without rising, if he were a father, and, upon his answer in the affirmative, rejoined: "In that case, I'll just trot round the room." When they reached the place where he had first met the child, Auguste would have bade him adieu and have gone his way; but Coco held his hand and refused to release it. "Come home with me," he said, "please come; Mamma Madeleine will give you some nice butter. Come and you can see Jacqueleine; she's awful pretty, I tell you." "Who is Jacqueleine, my boy?" "She's our goat; she sleeps by me." "And is your home far away?" "No, it's right over there." Auguste submitted to be led away. Coco repeating: "It's right over there," gave his companion another half-hour's walk. At last they came in sight of a wretched hovel, the thatched roof of which had fallen in in several places, standing on a crossroad, and Coco shouted: "Here we are; do you see our house?" Then he pulled his companion's sleeve, to make him run with him. An old woman sat in front of the hovel; she was thin and bent, and her complexion reminded one of an Egyptian mummy. But a strong, shrill voice emerged from her fragile body. "So here you are at last, lazybones!" she said to the child; "what have you been doing so long? Where's the bowl?"