it is bad, you will let me sleep."

"And if it is fine?"

"If it is fine, you will wake me up."

His sister was afraid to ask more, as she guessed how he would use a
fine day. As she was silent, he pretended to pout with that cajoling
manner he could assume, and which fascinated everybody.

"You won't do it? I could not stay home: _c'est plus fort que moi_."

"But, I promise."

And to keep him at home until he should be cured, more or less, the
young girl opened her window every morning and inspected the sky,
secretly hoping to find it thickly covered with clouds.

"Clouds, waiting over there, motionless, on the edge of the horizon,
what are you waiting for? Will you stand idle and let me awaken my
brother, who is resting?"

The clouds being indifferent, the sleeper had to be awakened. He dressed
hastily, with a smile at the transparent sky, and soon reached
Vauciennes by automobile, where he called for his machine, mounted,
ascended, flew, hunted the enemy, and returned to Compiègne for
luncheon.

"And you can leave us like that?" remonstrated his mother. "Why, this is
your holiday."