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Updated: July 5, 2025
"And are there no rats, or naughty dogs about nothing like that?" asked Hugh rather anxiously. "Of course not," replied Jeanne. "Do you think I'd leave Houpet here if there were? I'll call to Houpet now, and tell him to be kind to the little cochon." "But Houpet's asleep, and, besides, how would he know what you say?" objected Hugh.
They, too, had gold-laced hats and an air of solemn propriety, not quite so majestic as Houpet's, for in their case the imposing tuft was wanting, but still very fine of its kind.
Suddenly there was a movement among the animals, who had all been standing round watching the children's attempts; Jeanne felt a sort of little pecking tug at her skirts how it came about I cannot say, but I think I forgot to tell you that, unlike Hugh in his red flannel dressing gown, she was arrayed for their adventures in her best Sunday pelisse, trimmed with fur and, looking round, lo and behold! there was Houpet holding on to her with his beak, then came Nibble, his two front paws embracing Houpet's feathered body, Grignan behind him again, clutching with his mouth at Nibble's fur, and the two chickens at the end holding on to Grignan and each other in some indescribable and marvellous way.
"Of course I do," said Jeanne, indignantly; "all my pets are pretty, but Houpet's the prettiest of all." "He's prettier than Grignan, certainly," said Hugh, giving an amiable little push to the tortoise, who happened to be lying at his feet; "but I like Grignan, he's so comical." "I think Grignan must know a great deal," said Jeanne, "he's so solemn." "So is Dudu," said Hugh.
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