It was not ten seconds before Toto was frolicking madly in Mr. Billy’s crop, and Mamouche—the young scamp—was running swiftly down the lane, laughing fiendishly to himself as he went.
He could not at first decide whether there could be more fun in letting Toto things at his pleasure, or in warning Mr. Billy of the calf’s presence in the field. But the latter 216course commended itself as possessing a certain of .
“Ho, the’a, you!” called out Mamouche to one of Mr. Billy’s hands, when he got around to where the men were at work; “you betta go yon’a an’ see ’bout that calf o’ Ma’me Angèle; he done broke in the fiel’ an’ ’bout to finish the crop, him.” Then Mamouche went and sat behind a big tree, where, unobserved, he could laugh to his heart’s content.
Mr. Billy’s fury was unbounded when he learned that Madame Angèle’s calf was eating up and down his corn. At once he sent a detachment of men and boys to expel the animal from the field. Others were required to repair the damaged fence; while he himself, boiling with , rode up the lane on his wicked black charger.
But merely to look upon the was not enough for Mr. Billy. He dismounted from his horse, and strode up to Madame Angèle’s door, upon which he gave, with his riding-whip, a couple of sharp raps that plainly indicated the condition of his mind.
217Mr. Billy looked taller and broader than ever as he squared himself on the gallery of Madame Angèle’s small and modest house. She herself half-opened the door, a pale, sweet-looking woman, somewhat bewildered, and holding a piece of sewing in her hands. Little Marie Louise was beside her, with big, inquiring, frightened eyes.
“Well, Madam!” Mr. Billy, “this is a pretty piece of work! That young beast of yours is a fence-breaker, Madam, and ought to be shot.”
“Oh, non, non, M’sieur. Toto’s too li’le; I’m sho he can’t break any fence, him.”
“Don’t contradict me, Madam. I say he’s a fence-breaker. There’s the proof before your eyes. He ought to be shot, I say, and—don’t let it occur again, Madam.” And Mr. Billy turned and stamped down the steps with a great of spurs as he went.
Madame Angèle was at the time in desperate haste to finish a young lady’s Easter dress, and she could not afford to let Toto’s escapade occupy her to any extent, much as she regretted it. But little Marie Louise was greatly impressed by the affair. She went out 218in the yard to Toto, who was under the fig-tree, looking not half so shamefaced as he ought. The child, with arms clasped around the little fellow’s white shaggy neck, scolded him roundly.
“Ain’t you shame’, Toto, to go eat up Mr. Billy’s cotton an’ co’n? W’at Mr. Billy ev’a done to you, to go do him that way? If you been hungry, Toto, w’y you did’n’ come like always an’ put yo’ head in the winda? I’m goin’ tell yo’ maman w’en she come back f’om the woods to ’s’evenin’, M’sieur.
Marie Louise only ceased her mild when she fancied she saw a penitential look in Toto’s big soft eyes.
She had a keen instinct of right and justice for so young a little maid. And all the afternoon, and long into the night, she was disturbed by the thought of the unfortunate accident. Of course, there could be no question of repaying Mr. Billy with money; she and her mother had none. Neither had they cotton and corn with which to make good the loss he had sustained through them.
But had they not something far more beautiful and precious than cotton and corn? 219Marie Louise thought with delight of that row of Easter lilies on their tall green stems, ranged thick along the sunny side of the house.
The assurance that she would, after all, be able to satisfy Mr. Billy’s just anger, was a very sweet one. And by it, Marie Louise soon fell asleep and dreamt a dream: that the lilies were having a stately dance on the green in the moonlight, and were Mr. Billy to join them.
The following day, when it was nearing noon, Marie Louise said to her mamma: “Maman, can I have some of the Easter lily, to do with like I want?”
Madame Angèle was just then testing the heat of an iron with which to press out the seams in the young lady’s Easter dress, and she answered a shade impatiently:
“Yes, yes; va t’en, chérie,” thinking that her little girl wanted to pluck a lily or two.
So the child took a pair of old from her mother’s basket, and out she went to where the tall, perfumed lilies were nodding, and shaking off from their 220the rain-drops with which a passing cloud had just laughingly them.
, snap, went the shears here and there, and never did Marie Louise stop them till scores of those long-stemmed lilies lay upon the ground. There were far more than she could hold in her small hands, so she clasped the great bunch in her arms, and staggered to her feet with it.
Marie Louise was intent upon her purpose, and lost no time in its . She was soon
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