He had his hands on his hips and was quietly chuckling at the
scene before him, as one who, although old, sympathized with the
natural and harmless sportiveness of young people and would as
lief as not join in a prank or two.

"You see what I'm doing, Father Beret," said Alice, "I am
preventing a great damage to you. You will maybe lose a good many
cherry pies and dumplings if I let Jean go. He was climbing the
tree to pilfer the fruit; so I pulled him down, you understand."

"Ta, ta!" exclaimed the good man, shaking his gray head; "we must
reason with the child. Let go his leg, daughter, I will vouch for
him; eh, Jean?"

Alice released the hunchback, then laughed gayly and tossed the
cluster of cherries into his hand, whereupon he began munching
them voraciously and talking at the same time.

"I knew I could get them," he boasted; "and see, I have them now."
He hopped around, looking like a species of ill-formed monkey.

Pere Beret came and leaned on the low fence close to Alice. She
was almost as tall as he.

"The sun scorches to-day," he said, beginning to mop his furrowed
face with a red-flowered cotton handkerchief; "and from the look
of the sky yonder," pointing southward, "it is going to bring on a
storm. How is Madame Roussillon to-day?"

"She is complaining as she usually does when she feels extremely