and become a baby once more, so that Toupette
will have to spend her life as a nurse, a wife, and a caretaker.'

After the anxiety of mind and the weakness of body to which for so long
Toupette had been a prey, it seemed as if she could not amuse herself
enough, and it was seldom indeed that she found time to visit poor
Cornichon, though she did not cease to be fond of him, or to be kind to
him. Still, she was perfectly happy without him, and this the poor man
did not fail to see, almost blind and deaf from age though he was.

But it was left to Kristopo to undo at last the work of Dindonette, and
give Cornichon back the youth he had lost, and this the genius did all
the more gladly, as he discovered, quite by accident, that Cornichon was
in fact his son. It was on this plea that he attended the great yearly
meeting of the fairies, and prayed that, in consideration of his
services to so many of the members, this one boon might be granted
him. Such a request had never before been heard in fairyland, and
was objected to by some of the older fairies; but both Kristopo and
Selnozoura were held in such high honour that the murmurs of disgust
were set aside, and the latest victim to the enchanted fountain was
pronounced to be free of the spell. All that the genius asked in return
was that he might accompany the fairy back to Bagota, and be present
when his son assumed his proper shape.

They made up their minds they would just tell Toupette that they
had found a husband for her, and give her a pleasant surprise at her
wedding, which was fixed for the following night. She heard the news
with astonishment, and many pangs for the grief which Cornichon would
certainly feel at his place being taken by another; but she did not
dream of disobeying the fairy, and spent the whole day wondering who the
bridegroom could be.

At the appointed hour, a large crowd assembled at the fairy's palace,
which was decorated with the sweetest flowers, known only to fairyland.
Toupette had taken her place, but where was the bridegroom?

'Fetch Cornichon!' said the fairy to her chamberlain.

But Toupette interposed: 'Oh, Madam, spare him, I entreat you, this
bitter pain, and let him remain hidden and in peace.'

'It is necessary that he should be here,' answered the fairy, 'and he
will not regret it.'

And, as she spoke, Cornichon was led in, smiling with the foolishness of
extreme old age at the sight of the gay crowd.

'Bring him here,'