d round to stare, for I looked like a bad dog held on a leash.

As we were about to pass the tavern, a man who was standing in the
doorway called to Barberin and asked him to go in. Barberin took me by
the ear and pushed me in before him, and when we got inside he closed
the door. I felt relieved. This was only the village tavern, and for a
long time I had wanted to see what it was like inside. I had often
wondered what was going on behind the red curtains, I was going to know
now....

Barberin sat down at a table with the boss who had asked him to go in. I
sat by the fireplace. In a corner near me there was a tall old man with
a long white beard. He wore a strange costume. I had never seen anything
like it before. Long ringlets fell to his shoulders and he wore a tall
gray hat ornamented with green and red feathers. A sheepskin, the woolly
side turned inside, was fastened round his body. There were no sleeves
to the skin, but through two large holes, cut beneath the shoulders, his
arms were thrust, covered with velvet sleeves which had once been blue
in color. Woolen gaiters reached up to his knees, and to hold them in
place a ribbon was interlaced several times round his legs. He sat with
his elbow resting on his crossed knees. I had never seen a living person
in such a quiet calm attitude. He looked to me like one of the saints in
our Church. Lying beside him were three dogs--a white spaniel, a black
spaniel, and a pretty little gray dog with a sharp, cute little look.
The white spaniel wore a policeman's old helmet, which was fastened
under its chin with a leather strap.

While I stared at the man in wonder, Barberin and the owner of the
tavern talked in low voices. I knew that I was the subject of their
talk. Barberin was telling him that he had brought me to the village to
take me to the mayor's office, so that the mayor should ask the Charity
Home to pay for my keep. That was all that dear Mother Barberin had been
able to do, but I felt that if Barberin could get something for keeping
me I had nothing to fear.

The old man, who without appearing, had evidently been listening,
suddenly pointed to me, and turning to Barberin said with a marked
foreign accent:

"Is that the child that's in your way?"

"That's him."

"And you think the Home is going to pay you for his keep?"

"Lord! as he ain't got no parents and I've been put to great expense
for him, it is only right that the town should pay me something."