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One would have pronounced her a mask of Decrepitude carved out by a light from the night. The boy surveyed her. "Madame," said he, "does not possess that style of beauty which pleases me." He then pursued his road, and resumed his song: "Le roi Coupdesabot S'en allait a la chasse, A la chasse aux corbeaux " At the end of these three lines he paused.
The lad scratched his head behind his ear, stared at Ma'am Bougon, and said: "Ah!" Then he executed a pirouette on his heel; a moment later, the old woman, who had remained on the door-step, heard him singing in his clear, young voice, as he plunged under the black elm-trees, in the wintry wind: "Le roi Coupdesabot S'en allait a la chasse, A la chasse aux corbeaux, Monte sur deux echasses.
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