f.--Listen, pet!"

"Bet?"

"Very well, my sonny--"

"Zonny?"

"My lamb, then, if you like it better."

"It is not more clear."

"Oh, well, let _me_ take care of you and tell you what to do; for if you
go on like this, I shall have both of you laid up on my hands, you see.
To my little way of thinking, we must do the work between us. You cannot
go about Paris to give lessons for it tires you, and then you are not
fit to do anything afterwards, and somebody must sit up of a night with
M. Pons, now that he is getting worse and worse. I will run round to-day
to all your pupils and tell them that you are ill; is it not so? And
then you can spend the nights with our lamb, and sleep of a morning from
five o'clock till, let us say, two in the afternoon. I myself will take
the day, the most tiring part, for there is your breakfast and dinner to
get ready, and the bed to make, and the things to change, and the doses
of medicine to give. I could not hold out for another ten days at this
rate. What would become of you if I were to fall ill? And you yourself,
it makes one shudder to see you; just look at yourself, after sitting up
with him last night!"

She drew Schmucke to the glass, and Schmucke thought that there was a
great change.

"So, if you are of my mind, I'll have your breakfast ready in a jiffy.
Then you will look after our poor dear again till two o'clock. Let me
have a list of your people, and I will soon arrange it. You will be
free for a fortnight. You can go to bed when I come in, and sleep till
night."

So prudent did the proposition seem, that Schmucke then and there agreed
to it.

"Not a word to M. Pons; he would think it was all over with him, you
know, if we were to tell him in this way that his engagement at the
theatre and his lessons are put off. He would be thinking that he
should not find his pupils again, poor gentleman--stuff and nonsense! M.
Poulain says that we shall save our Benjamin if we keep him as quiet as
possible."

"Ach! fery goot! Pring up der preakfast; I shall make der bett, and gif
you die attresses!--You are right; it vould pe too much for me."

An hour later La Cibot, in her Sunday clothes, departed in great state,
to the no small astonishment of the Remonencqs; she promised herself
that she would support the character of confidential servant of the pair
of nutcrackers, in the boarding-schools and private families in which
they gave music-lessons.

It is needless to repe