straitened, if there was not any; but that did not prevent them from
being contented and gay (at this remembrance Miss Dimpleton's face
brightened). There was nowhere near a house like it--always cheerful,
always singing; and with all that, good and kind beyond belief! What
was theirs, was for others also. Mamma Cretu was a plump body of
thirty, clean as a new penny, lively as an eel, merry as a finch. Her
husband was a regular jolly old King Cole; he had a large nose, a
large mouth, always a paper cap on his head, and a face so droll--oh,
so droll, that you could not look at him without laughing! When he
returned home after work he did nothing but sing, make faces, and
gambol like a child. He made me dance, and jump upon his knees; he
played with me as if he were my own age, and his wife entirely spoilt
me. Both required of me but one thing--to be good-humored; and in
that, thank God! I never disappointed them; so they baptized me,
Dimpleton (not Simpleton, neighbor!) and the cap fitted. As to gayety,
they set me the example: never did I see them sad. If they uttered
reproaches at all, it was the wife said to her husband: 'Stop, Cretu,
you make me laugh too much!' or he said to her 'Hold your tongue,
Ramonette (I do not know why he called her Ramonette), you will make
me ill, you are so funny!' And as for me, I laughed to see them laugh.
That's how I was brought up, and how my character was formed; I trust
I have profited by it!"

"To perfection, neighbor! Then they never quarreled?"

"Never; oh, the biggest kind of never! Sunday, Monday, sometimes
Tuesday, they had, as they called it, an outing, and took me always
with them. Papa Cretu was a very good workman; when employed, he could
earn what he pleased, and so could his wife too. As soon as they had
sufficient for the Sunday and Monday, and could live till then, well