They long
remained scented and devoid of plumage, that was all. We must take
it that no subject as good as Yollande presented itself. Nature
makes these queer incomprehensible distinctions, you know, which
we just can't understand. There was _one_ Curly-Haired Hen,
there was to be no other! For, since her metamorphosis, for a
reason unknown to this day, the Curly-Haired Hen absolutely
refused to lay eggs. This was, I must confess, a great
disappointment to Sir Booum. Like the good American he was, he
would have liked to continue the race.
He had perforce to content himself with portraits of her from the
pen of M. Vimar. One of these was sent, affectionately dedicated
by Yollande, to her good Mother Etienne, who regards it as her
greatest treasure, and keeps it, elegantly framed, above the
mantelpiece in her bedroom. Never a day passes but the good woman
looks at it with tender, motherly affection.
Father Gusson is now the owner of a pretty little house and
cultivates his own garden, in which is a corner reserved for
Neddy, for he too has earned his rest.
Germaine, to whom her mistress and adopted mother gave a good
dowry, has just married Petit-Jacques, quartermaster, lately
returned from his military service.
It is hard to tell which is the happiest. The wedding was
performed with much ceremony. The whole village was present, and
amongst the various healths drunk they did not omit that of the
"Curly-Haired Hen."
Love animals, my children, be kind to them, care for them, you
will certainly have your reward.
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