drooling lips. All in vain. The old animal spent the whole day in
useless, terrible efforts. The sight of all that green food, which
stretched out on all sides of him, served to increase the gnawing pangs
of hunger.

The scamp did not return that day. He wandered through the woods in
search of nests.

The next day he appeared upon the scene again. Coco, exhausted, had lain
down. When he saw the boy, he got up, expecting at last to have his place
changed.

But the little peasant did not even touch the mallet, which was lying on
the ground. He came nearer, looked at the animal, threw at his head a
clump of earth which flattened out against the white hair, and he started
off again, whistling.

The horse remained standing as long as he could see him; then, knowing
that his attempts to reach the near-by grass would be hopeless, he once
more lay down on his side and closed his eyes.

The following day Zidore did not come.

When he did come at last, he found Coco still stretched out; he saw that
he was dead.

Then he remained standing, looking at him, pleased with what he had done,
surprised that it should already be all over. He touched him with his
foot, lifted one of his legs and then let it drop, sat on him and
remained there, his eyes fixed on the grass, thinking of nothing. He
returned to the farm, but did not mention the accident, because he wished
to wander about at the hours when he used to change the horse's pasture.
He went to see him the next day. At his approach some crows flew away.
Countless flies were walking over the body and were buzzing around it.
When he returned home, he announced the event. The animal was so old that
nobody was surprised. The master said to two of the men:

"Take your shovels and dig a hole right where he is."

The men buried the horse at the place where he had died of hunger. And
the grass grew thick, green and vigorous, fed by the poor body.

DEAD WOMAN'S SECRET

The woman had died without pain, quietly, as a woman should whose life
had been blameless. Now she was resting in her bed, lying on her back,
her eyes closed, her features calm, her long white hair carefully
arranged as though she had done it up ten minutes before dying. The whole
pale countenance of the dead woman was so collected, so calm, so resigned
that one could feel what a sweet soul had lived in that body, what a
quiet existence this old soul had led, how easy and pure the death of
this parent had