emned dogs,
and as one passed by this hole plaintive howls, furious or despairing
barks and lamentable appeals reach one's ear.

Sportsmen's dogs and sheep dogs flee in terror from this mournful place,
and when one leans over it one perceives a disgusting odor of
putrefaction.

Frightful dramas are enacted in the darkness.

When an animal has suffered down there for ten or twelve days, nourished
on the foul remains of his predecessors, another animal, larger and more
vigorous, is thrown into the hole. There they are, alone, starving, with
glittering eyes. They watch each other, follow each other, hesitate in
doubt. But hunger impels them; they attack each other, fight desperately
for some time, and the stronger eats the weaker, devours him alive.

When it was decided to make Pierrot "piquer du mas" they looked round for
an executioner. The laborer who mended the road demanded six sous to take
the dog there. That seemed wildly exorbitant to Mme. Lefevre. The
neighbor's hired boy wanted five sous; that was still too much. So Rose
having observed that they had better carry it there themselves, as in
that way it would not be brutally treated on the way and made to suspect
its fate, they resolved to go together at twilight.

They offered the dog that evening a good dish of soup with a piece of
butter in it. He swallowed every morsel of it, and as he wagged his tail
with delight Rose put him in her apron.

They walked quickly, like thieves, across the plain. They soon perceived
the chalk pit and walked up to it. Mme. Lefevre leaned over to hear if
any animal was moaning. No, there were none there; Pierrot would be
alone. Then Rose, who was crying, kissed the dog and threw him into the
chalk pit, and they both leaned over, listening.

First they heard a dull sound, then the sharp, bitter, distracting cry of
an animal in pain, then a succession of little mournful cries, then
despairing appeals, the cries of a dog who is entreating, his head raised
toward the opening of the pit.

He yelped, oh, how he yelped!

They were filled with remorse, with terror, with a wild inexplicable
fear, and ran away from the spot. As Rose went faster Mme. Lefevre cried:
"Wait for me, Rose, wait for me!"

At night they were haunted by frightful nightmares.

Mme. Lefevre dreamed she was sitting down at table to eat her soup, but
when she uncovered the tureen Pierrot was in it. He jumped out and bit
her nose.

She awoke and thought she