"Oh! what funny creatures!" said Virginie. "Don't they look countrified! I'd like to show them stars on the ceiling!" "Oh! thethe village folkth are more knowing than they look." "I'll bet that I play a trick on 'em and fool 'em all." "Virginie, you mutht behave yourthelf, you know." "That's all right, Semiramis, I know how to behave." "Look at that tall young fellow over there--he'th a handthome man. He hath Théodore'th legth." "He looks like a terrible fool!" "I don't care for that--he ithn't a bit bad-looking." When they first entered the room, the villagers did not notice the two Parisian ladies; but when they did see them, they gathered in groups and began to whisper together. Cézarine walked toward them and said with an amiable air: "We don't wish to embarrath you, worthy villagerth; we have come to take part in your games." "We're very fond of country life," said Virginie; "and before buying a farm, we want to know what people do on farms." Mère Fourcy's arrival gave the villagers all the information they desired. "They're great ladies from Paris," she told them. "They have a beautiful house, but they ain't a bit proud; they decided to pass the night here, so's to be at the party. You'll see how polite they are." The peasants bowed low to the great ladies; some young gallants of the village, in order to win favor with the strangers at once, began to push one another and exchange fisticuffs, and yelled with delight when one of them fell to the floor. "Our youngsters are beginning their fooling," said the old men; and Virginie remarked to her friend: "If they begin like this, I wonder where they'll end!" Amid the uproar, Monsieur Mauflard continued to snore in his chair; and one of the village wits exclaimed: "Look--Père Mauflard's asleep. I say! we must put up a game on Père Mauflard. What do you say?" "Count me in on that," said Cézarine, seating herself beside the tall, gawky youth whom she considered handsome, and who lowered his eyes and flushed to the ears when the lady from Paris looked at him. "What shall we do to Père Mauflard?" asked a peasant. "Take his hat." "Oh! that ain't funny enough." "Steal his handkerchief." "Or his snuff-box." "Oh! he'll guess right off that it was us who took that. That ain't a good trick." "Do you want a good trick?" asked Cézarine; "if you do, jutht quietly take off his breecheth." All the villagers gazed at one another in amazement, for the trick proposed by the lovely Parisian seemed rather strong to them; and Virginie trod on her friend's foot and whispered: "Will you keep quiet? What are you thinking about? As if anyone ever did such things as that here!--My friends," Virginie continued, addressing the villagers, "my cousin said that because she assumed that Père Mauflard wears drawers." "Oh, yes! but he don't!" said a stout woman, laughingly. Whereupon all the peasants cried: