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Moufflet, Moufflet, where are you, Moufflet?" and asking this question loudly, the dauphin hurried through the four rooms everywhere seeking after the little dog, the inheritance from his brother, the former Dauphin of France. But Moufflet did not come, and all search was in vain; no Moufflet was to be found. He had probably been lost in the crowd, or been trodden under foot.
"That was an uncommon good dinner we had yesterday, ma'am," the artful Harry broke out. "Their clear soup's better than ours. Moufflet will put too much taragon into every thing. The supreme de volaille was very good uncommon, and the sweets were better than Moufflet's sweets. Did you taste the plombiere, ma'am and the maraschino jelly? Stunningly good that maraschino jelly!"
"As to getting hold of an artilleryman, I don't know that that would be difficult. The men employed on that sort of work are all old soldiers, and many of these, though they dare not say so, hate what is going on just as much as we do. I have met one of them with Emile Moufflet, who served with you, captain, for two or three years.
"That was an uncommon good dinner we had yesterday, ma'am," the artful Harry broke out. "Their clear soup's better than ours. Moufflet will put too much taragon into everything. The supreme de volaille was very good uncommon, and the sweets were better than Moufflet's sweets. Did you taste the plombiere, ma'am, and the maraschino jelly? Stunningly good that maraschino jelly!"
"Do not cry, my boy; Moufflet will come back again tomorrow." "To-morrow! certainly, mamma?" "Certainly." The boy dried his tears, and went to sleep with a smile upon his lips.
Come here, Moufflet, make your compliments to the queen, and salute her like a regular grenadier." And smiling, he caught the little dog by the fore-paws, and made him stand up on his hind legs, and threatened Moufflet with his hand till he made him stand erect and let his fore feet hang down very respectfully.
"Now, my Louis," asked the queen, "have I guessed right? wasn't it the doggy that you wanted so much?" "Mamma queen has guessed it," cried the boy joyfully, putting his arms around the neck of the dog. "Does Moufflet belong to my inheritance too? Do I receive him, since my brother has left him behind?" "Yes, my son, the little dog belongs to your inheritance," answered the king, with a sad smile.
But suddenly, his countenance darkened, and his eyes wandered around with an anxious look. "Where is Moufflet?" he asked. "He came with me, and he was with me when we left the box.
That angers me and hurts my feelings, and if I begin to cry I am ashamed of myself, for I know that it is very silly to cry before people who mean ill to us. But I am still a poor little boy, and my tears are stronger than I. And so I want you, mamma, not to let me go to the garden any more. Moufflet and I would a great deal rather play in my room.
At this moment the door softly opened, and a little black dog stepped in, and ran forward, whining, directly up to the prince. "Moufflet," cried the child, falling upon his knee, "Moufflet!" The little dog, with its long, curly locks of hair, put its fore- paws upon the shoulders of the boy and eagerly and tenderly licked his laughing, rosy face.
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