Blacky slipped in at her feet. Through
a half-open window I followed him with my eyes. The wretch! He was
waited upon before I was. He it was who first had his large bowl of
milk. He had sold himself! After which, with white drops on his
mustache, Blacky came to keep me company and look at me drink my milk. I
gave him a piece of sugar, and both of us, absolutely satisfied with
each other, filled our lungs with the sharp air of the mountain. We were
at a height of about three or four hundred yards. It was a delightful
half-hour.

Blacky began to show signs of impatience and agitation. I could read him
then like a book. It was time to go. I paid, got up, and while I went
off to the right towards the path by which we came to the mountain, I
saw Blacky go and plant himself on the left, at the opening of another
path. He gave me a serious and severe look. What progress I had made
during the last two hours, and how familiar Blacky's eloquent silence
had become!

"What must you think of me?" said Blacky to me. "Do you imagine I am
going to take the same path twice? No, indeed. I am a good guide, and I
know my business. We shall make the descent another way."

We went back by another road, which was much prettier than the first.
Blacky, quite sprightly, often turned around to me with an air of
triumphant joy. We traversed the village, and at the station Blacky was
assailed by three or four dogs of his acquaintance, who seemed desirous
of a talk or game with their comrade. They attempted to block his way,
but Blacky, grumbling and growling, repulsed their advances.

"Can't you see what I am doing? I am taking this gentleman to the
station."

It was only in the waiting-room that he consented to leave me, after
having eaten with relish the two last pieces of sugar. And this is how I
interpreted the farewell look of Blacky:

"We are twenty minutes ahead of time. It isn't I who would have let you
lose the train. Well, good-bye--pleasant journey!"

THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMAN IN PARIS

On Friday, April 19th, Prince Agenor was really distracted at the opera
during the second act of "Sigurd." The prince kept going from box to
box, and his enthusiasm increased as he went.

"That blonde! Oh, that blonde! She is ideal! Look at that blonde! Do you
know that blonde?"

It was from the front part of Mme. de Marizy's large first tier box that
all these exclamations were coming at that moment.

"Which blonde?" asked Mme. de