Marie Mathieu Valot, _Mademoiselle_.

He was called so in all the country round as well, not with the
slightest intention of hurting his feelings, but, on the contrary,
because all thought they would please the poor gentle creature who
harmed nobody.

The very street boys meant no harm by it, accustomed as they were to
call the tall idiot in a frock and cap, so; but it would have struck
them as very extraordinary, and would have led them to in rude fun, if
they had seen him dressed like a boy.

_Mademoiselle_, however, took care of that, for his dress was as dear to
him as his nickname. He delighted in wearing it, and, in fact, cared for
nothing else, and what gave it a particular zest was, that he knew that
he was not a girl, and that he was living in disguise. And this was
evident, by the exaggerated feminine bearing and walk he put on, as if
to show that it was not natural to him. His enormous, carefully frilled
cap was adorned with large variegated ribbons. His petticoat, with
numerous flounces, was distended behind by many hoops. He walked with
short steps, and with exaggerated swaying of the hips, while his folded
arms and crossed hands were distorted into pretensions of comical
coquetry.

On such occasions, if anybody wished to make friends with him, it was
necessary to say:

"Ah! _Mademoiselle_, what a nice girl you make."

That put him into a good humor, and he used to reply, much pleased: