swered Jack; "only don't let us say any more about that drum,
nor the copper basin." The negro laughed silently. "Very well, sir;
Madou won't talk--you must talk now. What is your name?"

"Jack, with a _k_. Mamma thinks a great deal about that--"

"Is your mamma very rich?"

"Rich! I guess she is," said Jack, by no means unwilling to dazzle Madou
in his turn. "We have a carriage, a beautiful house on the boulevard,
horses, servants, and all. And then you will see, when mamma comes here,
how beautiful she is. Everybody in the street turns to look at her, she
has such beautiful dresses and such jewels. We used to live at Tours;
it was a pretty place. We walked in the Rue Royale, where we bought nice
cakes, and where we met plenty of officers in uniform. The gentlemen
were all good to me. I had Papa Leon, and Papa Charles,--not real papas,
you know, because my own father died when I was a little fellow. When
we first went to Paris I did not like it; I missed the trees and the
country; but mamma petted me so much, and was so good to me, that I was
soon happy again. I was dressed like the little English boys, and my
hair was curled, and every day we went to the Bois. At last my mamma's
old friend said that I ought to learn something; so mamma took me to the
Jesuit College--"

Here Jack stopped suddenly. To say that the Fathers would not receive
him, wounded his self-love sorely. Notwithstanding the ignorance and
innocence of his age, he felt that there was something humiliating to
his mother in this avowal, as well as to himself; and then this recital,
on which he had so heedlessly entered, carried him back to the only
serious trouble of his life. Why had they not been willing to receive
him? why did his mother weep? and why did the Superior pity him?

"Say, then, little master," asked the negro suddenly, "what is a
cocotte?"

"A cocotte?" asked Jack in astonishment. "I don't know. Is it a
chicken?"

"I heard the father with a stick say to Madame Moronval that your mother
was a cocotte."

"What an ideal. You misunderstood," and at the thought of his mother
being a hen, with feathers, wings, and claws, the boy began to laugh;
and Madou, without knowing why, followed his example.

This gayety soon obliterated the painful impressions of their previous
conversation, and the two little, lonely fellows, after having confided
to each other all their sorrows, fell asleep with smiles on their lips.

CHAPTER IV.~~THE