full a share of felicity during that festive week as should last an
ordinary mortal for a twelvemonth. _Figaro qua, Figaro la_, from
morning till night in three departments of France!

But he didn't seem to care very much about it all; he would have
been far happier singing and tumbling and romancing away to his
charbonniers by the pond in the Forest of la Tremblaye. He declared
he was never quite himself unless he could feel the north for at
least an hour or two every day, and all night long in his sleep--and
that he should never feel the north again--that it was gone forever;
that he had drunk it all away at that fatal breakfast--and it made
him lonely to wake up in the middle of the night and not know which
way he lay! "depayse," as he called it--"desoriente--perdu!"

And laughing, he would add, "Ayez pitie d'un pauvre orphelin!"

* * * * *

Then back to Le Gue des Aulnes. And one evening, after a good supper
at Grandmaman Laferte's, the diligence de Paris came jingling and
rumbling through the main street of La Tremblaye, flashing right and
left its two big lamps, red and blue. And we three boys, after the
most grateful and affectionate farewells, packed ourselves into the
coupe, which had been retained for us, and rumbled back to Paris
through the night.

There was quite a crowd to see us off. Not only Lafertes, but
others--all sorts and conditions of men, women, and children--and
among them three or four of Barty's charcoal-burning friends; one of
whom, an old man with magnificent black eyes and an immense beard,
that would have been white if he hadn't been a charcoal-burner,
kissed Barty on both cheeks, and gave him a huge bag full of some
kind of forest berry that is good to eat; also a young cuckoo (which
Barty restored to liberty an hour later); also a dormouse and a
large green lizard; also, in a little pasteboard box, a gigantic
pale green caterpillar four inches long and thicker than your thumb,
with a row of shiny blue stars in relief all along each side of its
back--the most beautiful thing of the kind you ever saw.

"Pioche bien ta geometrie, mon bon petit Josselin! c'est la plus
belle science au monde, crois-moi!" said M. Laferte to Barty, and
gave him the hug of a grizzly-bear; and to me he gave a terrific
hand-squeeze, and a beautiful double-barrelled gun by Lefaucheux,
for which I felt too supremely grateful to find suitable thanks. I
have it now, but I have lo