Petit-Jacques, the stable boy, took care of them. On fine days he
led them to pasture into a bog paddock near the farm up against a
pretty wood of silver beeches. A large pond of clear water covered
one corner of the meadow and lost itself in the reeds and iris.
There the fine big cows went to quench their thirst; quantities of
frogs went there, too, to play leap-frog. It was a veritable
earthly Paradise.

From the farm Mother Etienne caught the sound of the large bronze
bells each with its different low note, which hung round the necks
of the cows; thus she could superintend their comings and goings
without interrupting her various occupations. For the farm was
very big, as I told you, and had many animals on it.

After the stables and coachhouses came the piggery, the rabbit
hutches, and finally an immense poultry-yard divided into a
thousand compartments, and sheltering a whole horde of poultry of
all sorts; fowls of all kinds and of all breeds, geese,
guineafowl, pigeons, ducks, and what all besides. What wasn't
there in that prodigious poultry-yard?

Mother Etienne spent most of her time there, for the smaller and
more delicate the creatures the more interest and care she gave
them.

"The weak need so much protection," this excellent woman would
say, and she was right.

So for the baby ducks her tenderness was limitless. What dangers
had to be avoided to raise successfully all these tiny folks!