THE DEVIL'S POOL
"But how can we cook them without a spit or andirons. They will be burned to a cinder!"
"Not at all," said little Marie; "I warrant that I can cook them for you under the cinders without a taste of smoke. Have you never caught larks in the fields, and cooked them between two stones? Oh! that is true—I keep forgetting that you have never been a shepherd. Come, pluck the partridge. Not so hard! You will tear the skin."
"You might be plucking the other to show me how!"
"Then you wish to eat two? What an ogre you are! They are all plucked. I am going to cook them."
"You would make a perfect little sutler's girl, Marie, but unhappily you have no canteen, and I shall have to drink water from this pool!"
"You would like some wine, would you not? Possibly you might prefer coffee. You imagine yourself under the trees at the fair. Call out the host. Some wine for the good husbandman of Belair!"
"You little witch, you are making fun of me! Would not you drink some wine if you had it?"
"I? At Mother Rebec's, with you to-night, I
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