"Yes. Your father had a friend to whom that misfortune happened. He was careless and left the newly laid eggs too long in the light, and when he came back from the hills where he had gone on a few days' journey to cut hay the tiny silkworms were hatched and he had nothing on which to feed them. At that season the young mulberry leaves had gone by and, in fact, the trees were nearly bare. It was a good lesson to him; but it was a sad one, for the next spring he had to buy silkworm eggs, and they cost him many francs." "We will be more careful than that, won't we, Mother?" Marie said. "I certainly hope so, for we can ill afford to waste our money." And the Bretton family were more careful. Within a day or two the great sheets of eggs were folded and put away in a dry, dark place where they would be safe until the spring when, as the children insisted, Father and Uncle Jacques might be at home again to share in the hatching and direct the raising of the new crop of silkworms. [Illustration] CHAPTER XI PIERRE TAKES ANOTHER JOURNEY During the next few weeks many a letter passed between Pierre and his new friend Henri St. Amant; and by and by came an invitation for Pierre to come again to Pont-de-Saint-Michel and spend the day visiting the Gaspard throwing mills, where the raw silk was twisted and prepared for weaving. The boy was all eagerness to go and his mother, too, favored the trip, for Pierre had been working very steadily and now had few pleasures. It seemed impossible to complete the never-ending round of duties, although with uncomplaining zeal Pierre kept patiently at them. Marie, it is true, helped with some of the lighter work; but she was not strong enough to do much outside the house. As for Josef, faithful as he was, the old man was aging rapidly and could do little more than potter about the place and direct things. Therefore the cutting of trees for fuel, the drawing of water, the building of fires all fell to Pierre's lot. What wonder that with such constant use the boy's strength was daily increasing until he was becoming a veritable young giant? With no small satisfaction he beheld the muscles of his arms tighten and stand out; and when he swung his axe and brought down a sturdy sapling it was with a glow of pleasure that he heard it crash to the ground. Certainly there were compensations in hard work! Moreover was not every French boy who was too young to serve in the army being a man at home? He was but doing what all his friends were. Nevertheless the thought of a holiday did fill him with anticipation. To get into something beside his workaday clothes, and to mingle for an entire day amid new scenes, to say nothing of seeing Henri St. Amant again--what a delight it would be!