Emile, the youngest of the three, is a complete madcap; his age permits it. If any one gets a face smeared with berries, a bump on the forehead, or a thorn in the finger, it is sure to be he. As much as Jules and Claire enjoy a new book, he enjoys a visit to his box of playthings. And what has he not in the way of playthings? Now it is a spinning-top that makes a loud hum, then blue and red lead soldiers, a Noah’s Ark with all sorts of animals, a trumpet which his uncle has forbidden him to blow because it makes too much noise, then—But he is the only one that knows what there is in that famous box. Let us say at once, before we forget it, Emile is already asking questions of his uncle. His attention is awakening. He begins to understand that in this world a good top is not everything. If one of these days he should forget his box of playthings for a story, no one would be surprised. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER II THE FAIRY TALE AND THE TRUE STORY THE six of them were gathered together. Uncle Paul was reading in a big book, Jacques braiding a wicker basket, Mother Ambroisine plying her distaff, Claire marking linen with red thread, Emile and Jules playing with the Noah’s Ark. And when they had lined up the horse after the camel, the dog after the horse, then the sheep, donkey, ox, lion, elephant, bear, gazelle, and a great many others,—when they had them all arranged in a long procession leading to the ark, Emile and Jules, tired of playing, said to Mother Ambroisine: “Tell us a story, Mother Ambroisine—one that will amuse us.” And with the simplicity of old age Mother Ambroisine spoke as follows, at the same time twirling her spindle: “Once upon a time a grasshopper went to the fair with an ant. The river was all frozen. Then the grasshopper gave a jump and landed on the other side of the ice, but the ant could not do this; and it said to the grasshopper: ‘Take me on your shoulders; I weigh so little.’ But the grasshopper said: ‘Do as I do; give a spring, and jump.’ The ant gave a spring, but slipped and broke its leg. “Ice, ice, the strong should be kind; but you are wicked, to have broken the ant’s leg—poor little leg. “Then the ice said: ‘The sun is stronger than I, and it melts me.’ “Sun, sun, the strong should be kind; but you are wicked, to melt the ice; and you, ice, to have broken the ant’s leg—poor little leg. “Then the sun said: ‘The clouds are stronger than I; they hide me.’ “Clouds, clouds, the strong should be kind; but you are wicked, to hide the sun; you, sun, to melt the ice; and you, ice, to have broken the ant’s leg—poor little leg. “Then the clouds said: ‘The wind is stronger than we; it drives us away.’ “Wind, wind, the strong should be kind; but you are wicked, to drive away the clouds; you, clouds, to hide the sun; you, sun, to melt the ice; and you, ice, to have broken the ant’s leg—poor little leg.