"Ah! the rascal1 never does anything else when he hears anybody eating!" said Germain; "a cannon-shot wouldn't wake him, but move your jaws2 in his neighborhood, and he opens his eyes at once."
"You must have been like that at his age," said little Marie, with a mischievous3 smile. "Well, my little Pierre, are you looking for the top of your cradle? It's made of green leaves to-night, my child; but your father's having his supper, all the same. Do you want to sup with him? I haven't eaten your share; I thought you would probably claim it!"
"Marie, I insist on your eating," cried the ploughman; "I shan't eat any more. I am a glutton4, a boor5; you go without on our account, and it's not right; I'm ashamed of myself. It takes away my appetite, I tell you; I won't let my son have any supper unless you take some."
"Let us alone," replied little Marie, "you haven't the key to our appetites. Mine is closed to-day, but your Pierre's is wide open, like a little wolf's. Just see how he goes at it! Oh! he'll be a sturdy ploughman, too!"
In truth, Petit-Pierre soon showed whose son he was, and, although he was hardly awake and did not understand where he was or how he came there, he began to devour6. Then, when his hunger was appeased7, being intensely excited as children generally are when their regular habits are interrupted, he exhibited more quick wit, more curiosity, and more shrewdness than usual. He made them tell him where he was, and when he learned that he was in the middle of a forest, he was a little afraid.
"Are there naughty beasts in this forest?" he asked his father.
"No, there are none at all," was the reply. "Don't be afraid."
"Then you lied when you told me that the wolves would carry me off if I went through the big forest with you?"
"Do you hear this reasoner?" said Germain in some embarrassment8.
"He is right," replied little Marie, "you told him that; he has a good memory, and he remembers it. But you must understand, my little Pierre, that your father never lies. We passed the big forest while you were asleep, and now we're in the little forest, where there aren't any naughty beasts."
"Is the little forest very far from the big one?"
"Pretty far; and then the wolves never leave the big forest. Even if one should come here, your father would kill him."
"And would you kill him, too, little Marie?"
"We would all kill him, for you would help us, my Pierre, wouldn't you? You're not afraid, I know. You would hit him hard!"
"Yes, yes," said the child, proudly, assuming a heroic attitude, "we would kill 'em."
"There's no one like you for talking to children," said Germain to little Marie, "and for making them hear reason. To be sure, it isn't long since you were a child yourself, and you remember what your mother used to say to you. I believe that the younger one is, the better one understands the young. I am very much afraid that a woman of thirty, who doesn't know what it is to be a mother, will find it hard to learn to prattle9 and reason with young
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