"Great God, that's so!" said the ploughman; "and if we can feel round
and find a little dead wood, we can succeed in drying and warming
ourselves."

"That's not hard to do," said little Marie; "the dead wood cracks under
your feet wherever you step; but give me the saddle first."

"What are you going to do with it?"

"Make a bed for the little one: no, not like that; upside-down, so he
won't roll out; and it's still warm from the mare's back. Prop it up on
each side with those stones you see there."

"I don't see them! Your eyes are like a cat's, aren't they?"

"There! now that's done, Germain! Give me your cloak to wrap up his
little feet, and I'll put mine over his body. Look! isn't he as
comfortable there as he would be in his bed? and feel how warm he is!"

"Yes, indeed! you know how to take care of children, Marie!"

"That doesn't take much magic. Now look for your steel in your bag, and
I'll fix the wood."

"That wood will never light, it's too damp."

"You doubt everything, Germain! Why, can't you remember taking care of
sheep and making big fires in the fields when it was raining hard?"