e d'honneur, avez-vous chante?"

"Non, m'sieur!"

"Caillard, avez-vous chante?"

"Non, m'sieur!"

"Lipmann, avez-vous chante?"

"Non, m'sieur!"

"Maurice, avez-vous chante?"

"Non, m'sieur" (which, for a wonder, was true, for I happened not to
know either the words or the tune).

"Josselin, avez-vous chante?"

"_Oui, m'sieur!_"

And down went Barty his full length on the floor, from a tremendous
open-handed box on the ear. Dumollard was a very Herculean
person--though by no means gigantic.

Barty got up and made Dumollard a polite little bow, and walked out
of the room.

"Vous etes tous consignes!" says M. Dumollard--and the omnibus went
away empty, and we spent all that Sunday morning as best we might.

In the afternoon we went out walking in the Bois. Dumollard had
recovered his serenity and came with us; for he was _de service_
that day.

Says Lipmann to him:

"Josselin drapes himself in his English dignity--he sulks like
Achilles and walks by himself."

"Josselin is at least a _man_," says Dumollard. "He tells the truth,
and doesn't know fear--and I'm sorry he's English!"

And later, at the Mare d'Auteuil, he put out his hand to Barty and
said:

"Let's make it up, Josselin--au moins vous avez du coeur, vous.
Promettez-moi que vous ne chanterez plus cette sale histoire de
Capucin!"

Josselin took the usher's hand, and smiled his open, toothy smile,
and said:

"Pas le dimanche matin toujours--quand c'est vous qui serez de
service, M. Dumollard!" (Anyhow not Sunday morning when _you_'re on
duty, Mr. D.)

And Mr. D. left off running down the English in public after
that--except to say that they _couldn't_ be simple and natural if
they tried; and that they affected a ridiculous accent when they
spoke French--not Josselin and Maurice, but all the others he had
ever met. As if plain French, which had been good enough for William
the Conqueror, wasn't good enough for the subjects of her Britannic
Majesty to-day!

The only event of any importance in Barty's life that year was his
first communion, which he took with several others of about his own
age. An event that did not seem to make much impression on
him--nothing seemed to make much impression on Barty Josselin when
he was very young. He was just a lively, irresponsible,
irrepressible human animal--always in perfect health and exuberant
spirits, with an immense appetite for food and fun and frolic; like
a squirrel, a collie pup, or a ki