Waterbury evening Democrat., 1904-12-15

certainly is not French
 But what did he look 1ike?''
 Handsome! Hein! His hair curIs, tis very blond--and his eyes! Cielt Blue, blue like the sea, mademgiselle, and his cheeks red--''
 Mon Dieu! QueI beau ohevalief! You must be in love with him, Jo- settel''
 No, mademoiselle! Nay, 'tis not for the likes of me-''
 True, true, said the young chate- laine gravely "He Is a, noble knight, doubtless. He had red cheeks, you say?'t
 ''Yes. mademoiseile.
 Not like my pale ones, II suppose: but then the English always were gross and red in the cheek.
 But, mademoiselle
 That will do, Josette, you weary me with this stranger. Did you bring the new dolls r
 Here they are, mademoiselle." said the faithful Josette, producing two eiaborately dressed Parisian dolls from beneath her apron. They came by special messenger from Paris last night after you had retired.'
 "Oh,' exclaimed the young girl, rapturously, '.how beautiful they are! thought had about done with dolls, but these are so lovely. What grand danes they are! Give them to me, Jo- sette. Z
 How kind of Monsieur le Marquis, mademoiselle," answered the maid, who was also the foster sister and youthful confdante of the countess, as she handed her the two dolls.
 'Oh, do you know, ' said the capric~, lols little maiden, these are beautiful dolls, but I don't believe like them after all as much as old Toto. /'s'I brought her along, too" returned Josetts. producing her from a pocket In her dress, T thought you might want her. mademoiselle.
 "Oh, give her to mel" exclaimed the young mother. extending her hand to take the old rag affair. T am tired of walking and talking, Josette. You are so very uninteresting this morning, You can't speak of anything but that Englishmanl. Let's ait down heFe ls -s der this beech-tree and sing the dolls to sleep. You take tho two from Paris. We'll play thsgsre tysiSass and will take poor old sIb6to. shall not be neglected for the beautiful la- dies from the city, shall she? Poor old Toto! I shall never have any more dolls, Josette. I certainly am too old for taem. If 1t were, real baby, now, or a knight" continued this small bundle of inconsistencies, s'how I would love it! But that Is not to be. Helas, Josette! Come, let us put them to sleep.
 "But, mademoiseIIe.t Ills early morn ing- 2 responded the tnimagina3ive peasant.
 Stupid, we can play 'tis night, can't we? Besides. it's always good for children to take a nap. Grand father says. the more sleepy the eye in the daytime the brighter the eye at. night You sit there and will sit here. Now. sing.
 The two children, with that delight ful indifference to rank and station which constitutes one of the charms of childhood, sat down on a rustic bench under a handsome old beech tree. Though both were about the same age, just entering their teens, Josette, who was the younger, would have made two of her young mistress. She had already reached her growth, apparently, for she was tall and large, and her splendid physical develop ment was we'll set of by the pictur- esdue dress of the Breton peasantry. Her mistress, on the contrary, was small, slender, fragile, nndeveioped and physically as much behind her maid as mentally she was her supe- rior A greater contrast between them could not have been imagined.
 What shall we sing, mademoi- selle?'' asked Josette Shall it be The Fox Gallant? ?'s
 No, we'll sing Toutouie, la, Ia!"
 ''very well. will you begin ?'s
 No, you"
 s'very we'll. Are you ready?"
 "Yes."
 "So, then
 Running the air for moment, the two voices broke into the plaintive melody of an old Breton cradle song, the refrain of which gave it a title. Tn default Of a rocking -chair-not then indigenous to France--the two bodies swayed back and forth in time to the simple lullaby, or berceuse, the wooden sabots on one pair of large though shapely feet batting the ground in time with the dainty tewei-buckled Louis Quinze slippers upon the other The words were primitive and childish as befits folk song at its best, and more especially at it's beginning in the cradle song, and the music was eqWal1y so: yet the emphatic word was repeated at the end of each verse with D long-drawn cadence, and the 'rou- touie, Ia, la! rose above the branches with caressing intonation which a mother might have used to a child.
 The gentle air of the summer morn ing rustled the leaves of the old beech tree in a not inharmonious accom- paniment to the melody and swept the