hood; and in very bad taste that point was: at least I thought so.
Adèle sang the canzonette tunefully enough, and with the naiveté of her age. This achieved, she jumped from my knee and said, "Now, mademoiselle, I will repeat you some poetry."
Assuming an attitude, she began "La Ligue des Rats; fable de La Fontaine." She then declaimed the little piece with an attention to punctuation and emphasis, a flexibility of voice and an appropriateness of gesture, very unusual indeed at her age; and which proved she had been carefully trained.
"Was it your mama who taught you that piece?" I asked.
"Yes, and she just used to say it in this way: Qu'avez vous donc? lui dit un de ces rats; parlez!' She made me lift my hand—so—to remind me to raise my voice at the question. Now shall I dance for you?"
"No, that will do: but after your mama went to the Holy Virgin, as you say, with whom did you live then?"
"With Madame Frédéric and her husband: she took care of me, but she is nothing related to me. I think she is poor, for she had not so fine a house as mama. I was not long
