"I have number one."

"And I number two," said Georges.

Just as Pierrotin reappeared, having harnessed Bichette, the porter
returned with a stout man in tow, whose weight could not have been less
than two hundred and fifty pounds at the very least. Pere Leger belonged
to the species of farmer which has a square back, a protuberant stomach,
a powdered pigtail, and wears a little coat of blue linen. His white
gaiters, coming above the knee, were fastened round the ends of his
velveteen breeches and secured by silver buckles. His hob-nailed shoes
weighed two pounds each. In his hand, he held a small reddish stick,
much polished, with a large knob, which was fastened round his wrist by
a thong of leather.

"And you are called Pere Leger?" asked Georges, very seriously, as the
farmer attempted to put a foot on the step.

"At your service," replied the farmer, looking in and showing a face
like that of Louis XVIII., with fat, rubicund cheeks, from between which
issued a nose that in any other face would have seemed enormous. His
smiling eyes were sunken in rolls of fat. "Come, a helping hand, my
lad!" he said to Pierrotin.

The farmer was hoisted in by the united efforts of Pierrotin and the
porter, to cries of "Houp la! hi! ha! hoist!" uttered by Georges.

"Oh! I'm not going far; only to La Cave," said the farmer,
good-humoredly.

In France everybody takes a joke.

"Take the back seat," said Pierrotin, "there'll be six of you."

"Where's your other horse?" demanded Georges. "Is it as mythical as the
third post-horse."

"There she is," said Pierrotin, pointing to the little mare, who was
coming along alone.

"He calls that insect a horse!" exclaimed Georges.

"Oh! she's good, that little mare," said the farmer, who by this time
was seated. "Your servant, gentlemen. Well, Pierrotin, how soon do you
start?"

"I have two travellers in there after a cup of coffee," replied
Pierrotin.

The hollow-cheeked young man and his page reappeared.

"Come, let's start!" was the general cry.

"We are going to start," replied Pierrotin. "Now, then, make ready," he
said to the porter, who began thereupon to take away the stones which
stopped the wheels.

Pierrotin took Rougeot by the bridle and gave that guttural cry, "Ket,
ket!" to tell the two animals to collect their energy; on which, though
evidently stiff, they pulled the coach to the door of the Lion d'Argent.
After which manoeuvre, which was purely preparatory, P