serious,—I know his fancies; there is nothing to be done, and indeed the best way is to let him alone. He's a lad who has had a bee in his bonnet ever since he came into the world. He doesn't know how to express what he feels, and he really can't. It is better, therefore, to leave him to himself; for if one worries him with questions, he only cries, and then we have hurt his feelings for nothing." 

 "It is my opinion, though," I said to Brulette, "that you know how to make him confess himself." 

 "I was mistaken," she answered; "I thought he had some much worse trouble. It would make you laugh if I could tell you what the trouble really is; but as he chooses to tell no one but me, let us think no more about it." 

 "If it is such a little thing," I persisted, "you would not take so much interest in it." 

 "Do you think I take too much?" she said.  "Don't I owe it to the woman who brought him into the world and who brought me up with more care and kindness than she gave to her own child?" 

 "That's a good reason, Brulette. If it is Mariton you love in her son, very good; in that case, I wish Mariton was my mother,—it would be better for me than being your cousin." 

 "Leave that sort of nonsense to my other sweethearts," answered Brulette, blushing a little. But no compliments ever came amiss to her, though she pretended to laugh at them. 

 As we left the fields just opposite to my house she came in with me to say good-evening to my sister. 

 But my sister was out, and Brulette could not wait, because her sheep were in the road. In order to keep her a moment, I bethought me of taking off her sabots, to remove the lumps of snow, and drying them. And so, holding her as it were by the paws,—for she was obliged to sit down while she waited for me to finish,—I tried to tell her, better than I had ever yet dared to do, the trouble my love for her was piling up in my heart. 

 But there! see the devilish thing,—I couldn't get out the crowning word of it. I managed the second and the third, but the first wouldn't come. My forehead was sweating. The girl could have helped me out, if she only would, for she knew the tune of my song well enough; others had sung it to her already. But with Brulette, one had to have patience and discretion; and though I was not altogether new at gallant speeches, those I had exchanged with others who 

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