arrived at such a moment! I did not wait to be asked twice.
"Would you like a dance or a little comedy?" I asked.
"Oh, a comedy," cried the child. But the lady said she preferred a dance.
"A dance is too short," said the boy.
"If the 'distinguished audience' wishes, after the dance, we will perform our different rôles."
This was one of my master's fine phrases. I tried to say it in the same grand manner as he. Upon second thought, I was not sorry that the lady did not wish for a comedy, for I don't see how I could have given a performance; not only was Zerbino absent, but I had none of the "stage fittings" with me.
I played the first bars of a waltz. Capi took Dulcie by the waist with his two paws and they whirled round, keeping good time. Then Pretty-Heart danced alone. Successively, we went through all our repertoire. We did not feel tired now. The poor little creatures knew that they would be repaid with a meal and they did their best. I also.
Then, suddenly, in the midst of a dance in which all were taking part, Zerbino came out from behind a bush, and as Capi and Dulcie and Pretty-Heart passed near him, he boldly took his place amongst them.
While playing and watching my actors, I glanced
