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A young scamp about fifteen years old, Isidore Duval by name, and called, for convenience, Zidore, took care of this pensioner, gave him his measure of oats and fodder in winter, and in summer was supposed to change his pasturing place four times a day, so that he might have plenty of fresh grass.
"My friend, my dear friend," said he to the greengrocer, "see, these are the presents which Christmas has brought to my little Raoul. I want him to find them here, when he awakens, and to share them with Zidore, who will henceforth be his playmate and friend. You'll trust me now, won't you?
"Don't think about that," said Pierron in an abashed tone. "Zidore put the shoes there. You know children still believe in Christmas and the child Jesus, whatever scholars may say about fables; so, as I came back from the commissaire, as I didn't know whether your boy would have to stay here to-night, I got those things for them both."
The rascal, angrier every morning, would start, with his dragging step, across the wheat fields. The men working in the fields would shout to him, jokingly: "Hey, Zidore, remember me to Coco."
It seemed to him that this old nag was stealing the food of the others, the goods of man and God, that he was even robbing him, Zidore, who was working. Then, little by little, each day, the boy began to shorten the length of rope which allowed the horse to graze. The hungry animal was growing thinner, and starving.
It's no use looking up in the air, you skinny beggar! The larks won't tumble into your mouth already cooked!" But Zidore did not hurry himself. He was interested in the neighboring roofs, and in a cloud of smoke which rose from the other side of Paris, close to Grenelle; it was very likely a fire.
The cripple responded by a quiet smile, and said coldly: "Well, sir, if you really wish to do something for me " "You'll let me care for Zidore, won't you?" cried M. Godefroy, eagerly. "That I will, with the greatest of pleasure," responded Pierron, joyfully. "I have often, thought about the child's future. He is a sharp little fellow. His teachers are delighted with him."
It seemed to him that this old nag was stealing the food of the others, the goods of man and God, that he was even robbing him, Zidore, who was working. Then, little by little, each day, the boy began to shorten the length of rope which allowed the horse to graze. The hungry animal was growing thinner, and starving.
The horse remained standing as long as he could see him; then, knowing that his attempts to reach the near-by grass would be hopeless, he once more lay down on his side and closed his eyes. The following day Zidore did not come. When he did come at last, he found Coco still stretched out; he saw that he was dead.
It was to be placed on the edge of the roof, near the gutter. Just at that spot the roof was very steep. The man walked along in his list slippers much as if he had been at home, whistling a popular melody. He allowed himself to slip a little and caught at the chimney, calling to Zidore as he did so: "Why in thunder don't you bring the irons? What are you staring at?"
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