"The gray is strong, and could carry two more if there were room on
her back. But what can we do with this child on the way? He will be cold
and hungry, and who will take care of him to-night and tomorrow, put
him to bed, wash him, and dress him? I don't dare give this trouble to
a woman I don't know, who will think, doubtless, that I am exceedingly
free and easy with her to begin with."

"Trust me, Germain, you will know her at once by the kindness or the
impatience that she shows. If she does not care to receive your Pierre,
I will take charge of him myself. I will go to her house and dress him,
and I will take him to the fields with me to-morrow. I will amuse him
all day long, and take good care that he does not want for anything."

"He will tire you, my poor girl, and give you trouble. A whole day is a
long time."

"Not at all; it will give me pleasure; he will keep me company, and that
will make me less sad the first day that I must pass in a new place. I
shall fancy that I am still at home."

Seeing that little Marie was pleading for her, the child seized upon her
skirt and held it so tight that they must have hurt him in order to
tear it away. When he perceived that his father was weakening, he took
Marie's hand in both his tiny sunburned fists and kissed her, leaping
for joy, and pulling her toward the mare with the burning impatience
children feel in their desires.

"Come along," said the young girl, lifting him in her arms; "let us try
to quiet his poor little heart. It is fluttering like a little bird; and
if you feel the cold when night comes on, tell me, my Pierre, and I will
wrap you in my cape. Kiss your little father, and beg his pardon for
being naughty. Tell him that you will never, never be so again. Do you
hear?"

"Yes, yes, provided that I always do just as he wishes. Is n't it
so?" said Germain, drying the little boy's eyes with his handkerchief.
"Marie, you are spoiling the little rascal. But really and truly, you
are too good, little Marie. I don't know why you did not come to us
as shepherdess last Saint John's Day. You would have taken care of my
children, and I should much rather pay a good price for their sake than
try to find a woman who will think, perhaps, she is doing me a great
kindness if she does not detest them."

"You must not look on the dark side of things," answered little Marie,
holding the horse's bridle while Germain placed his son in front of the
big pack-saddle covere