to capture slaves who will take care of their victors with such
tender solicitude that the latter even lose the habit of feeding
themselves.

And little by little, as if a maternal tenderness had sprung up in
her heart for the poor insect which was so tiny and so intelligent,
Yvette made it climb on her finger, looking at it with a moved
expression, almost wanting to embrace it.

And as Servigny read of the way in which they live in communities,
and play games of strength and skill among themselves, the young
girl grew enthusiastic and sought to kiss the insect which escaped
her and began to crawl over her face. Then she uttered a piercing
cry, as if she had been threatened by a terrible danger, and with
frantic gestures tried to brush it off her face. With a loud laugh
Servigny caught it near her tresses and imprinted on the spot where
he had seized it a long kiss without Yvette withdrawing her
forehead.

Then she exclaimed as she rose: "That is better than a novel. Now
let us go to La Grenouillere."

They reached that part of the island which is set out as a park and
shaded with great trees. Couples were strolling beneath the lofty
foliage along the Seine, where the boats were gliding by.

The boats were filled with young people, working-girls and their
sweethearts, the latter in their shirt-sleeves, with coats on their
arms, tall hats tipped back, and a jaded look. There were tradesmen
with their families, the women dressed in their best and the
children flocking like little chicks about their parents. A distant,
continuous sound of voices, a heavy, scolding clamor announced the
proximity of the establishment so dear to the boatmen.

Suddenly they saw it. It was a huge boat, roofed over, moored to the
bank. On board were many men and women drinking at tables, or else
standing up, shouting, singing, bandying words, dancing, capering,
to the sound of a piano which was groaning--out of tune and rattling
as an old kettle.

Two tall, russet-haired, half-tipsy girls, with red lips, were
talking coarsely. Others were dancing madly with young fellows half
clad, dressed like jockeys, in linen trousers and colored caps. The
odors of a crowd and of rice-powder were noticeable.

The drinkers around the tables were swallowing white, red, yellow,
and green liquids, and vociferating at the top of their lungs,
feeling as it were, the necessity of making a noise, a brutal need
of having their ears and brains filled with