re....

And two big tears run slowly down his tanned cheeks.

Just then, the Chaplain comes towards the young Dauphin and whispers to
him for some time, showing him a crucifix. The little Dauphin listens,
and looks astounded, and then, suddenly stops him:

--I can understand what you are telling me, Monsieur priest, but
couldn't my little friend, Beppo die in my place, for which service we
could give him a lot of money?...

The Chaplain continues the whispering and the little Dauphin looks more
and more astonished.

As soon as the Chaplain finishes, the little Dauphin gives a huge sigh
and says:

--Everything you tell me is so sad, Monsieur Priest, but if there's one
thing that consoles me, it's that up there amongst the stars in
paradise, I will still be the Dauphin.... I am sure that the Good Lord
is my cousin and won't forget to treat me according to my rank.

Then, turning towards his mother, he adds:

--Have my best clothes brought to me; my white ermine doublet and my
velvet court shoes. I want to make myself nice for the angels and enter
paradise dressed as a Dauphin should.

For a third time, the Chaplain leans towards the little Dauphin and
whispers to him for some time.... In the middle of his discourse, the
Royal child interrupts him angrily:

--Well then, he cries, it's completely pointless being the Dauphin!

The little Dauphin has heard enough, and he turns towards the wall
sobbing bitterly.

II

THE SUB-PREFECT TAKES A DAY OFF.

The Sub-Prefect was on his rounds. He was being carried majestically in
the official barouche, complete with coachman and lackey, to the
Combe-aux-Fee's Regional selection meeting. The Sub-Prefect had put on
his best embroidered clothes; his opera hat, his skin-tight silver
striped breeches, and his dress-sword with mother of pearl handle for
this important day.... He was looking ruefully down at his knees, on
which lies a large, embossed-leather, briefcase.

The Sub-Prefect was thinking about the speech which he must soon give
before the residents of Combe-aux-Fees:

--Gentlemen and constituents....

But he might just as well have twiddled with his blond whiskers and
repeated it twenty times for all the good it did:

--Gentlemen and constituents.... But nothing more of the speech would
come.

Nothing more of the speech would come.... It was getting really warm in
the barouche!... Under the Midi sun, the road to Combe-aux-Fees
shimmers until it fade