s at him. Vivier went
down to them, and asked the meaning of this insolence.

"We were not shaking our fists at you," replied the angered ones, "but
at that calf."

"Ah! you know him then?" returned Vivier. "I was not aware of it."

In time Vivier's calf became the subject of a legend, according to which
the animal (still in Vivier's apartments) grew to be an ox, and so
annoyed the neighbours by his lowing that; the proprietor of the house
insisted on its being sent away. Vivier told him to come; and take it,
when it was found that the calf of other days had grown to such a size
that it was impossible to get it downstairs.

MONSIEUR SYLVESTRE BONNARD: A CONFESSION
[Sidenote: _Anatole France, translated by Lafcadio Hearn_]

I can see once more, with astonishing vividness, a certain doll which,
when I was eight years old, used to be displayed in the window of an
ugly little shop of the Rue de la Seine. I was very proud of being a
boy; I despised little girls; and I longed impatiently for the day
(which, alas! has come) when a strong white beard should bristle on my
chin. I played at being a soldier; and, under the pretext of obtaining
forage for my rocking-horse, I used to make sad havoc among the plants
my poor mother used to keep on her window-sill. Manly amusements those,
I should say! and nevertheless, I was consumed with longing for a doll.
Characters like Hercules have such weaknesses occasionally. Was the one
I had fallen in love with at all beautiful? No. I can see her now. She
had a splotch of vermilion on either cheek, short soft arms, horrible
wooden hands, and long sprawling legs. Her flowered petticoat was
fastened at the waist with two pins. It was a decidedly vulgar
doll--smelt of the faubourg. I remember perfectly well that, even child
as I was then, before I had put on my first pair of trousers, I was
quite conscious in my own way that this doll lacked grace and
style--that she was gross, that she was coarse. But I loved her in
spite of that; I loved her just for that; I loved her only; I wanted
her. My soldiers and my drums had become as nothing in my eyes. I ceased
to stick sprigs of heliotrope and veronica into the mouth of my
rocking-horse. That doll was all the world to me. I invented ruses
worthy of a savage to oblige Virginie, my nurse, to take me by the
little shop in the Rue de la Seine. I would press my nose against the
window until my nurse had to take my arm and drag me away. "Monsieur