Germain looked at the hedge and saw something that he took for a lamb in
the ditch, under the branches of an oak still thick and green.
"It's a stray lamb," he said, "or a dead one, for it doesn't move.
Perhaps some one is looking for it; we must see."
"It isn't a lamb," cried little Marie; "it's a child asleep; it's your
Petit-Pierre."
"Upon my word!" exclaimed Germain, dismounting; "just see the little imp
lying there asleep, so far from home, and in a ditch, where a snake
might find him!"
He raised the child, who opened his eyes and smiled at him, saying, as
he threw his arms around his neck:
"Little father, you're going to take me with you!"
"Oh, yes! still the same song! what were you doing there, naughty
Pierre?"
"I was waiting for my little father to pass; I was looking out on the
road, and I looked so hard I went to sleep."
"And if I had passed without seeing you, you would have stayed out all
night and the wolf would have eaten you!"
"Oh! I knew you'd see me!" rejoined Petit-Pierre confidently.
"Well, kiss me now, Pierre, bid me good-by, and run back to the house if
you don't want them to have supper without you."
"Why, ain't you going to take me with you?" cried the child, beginning
to rub his eyes to show that he proposed to weep.
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