The Curly-Haired Hen | Page 7

ashamed to think how uninteresting in
comparison are the things you show."
A few minutes later, a magnificent equipage, driven by an elegant
gentleman and drawn by two light bays, entered the courtyard of the

big farm.
"Does Madame Etienne live here, please?" he asked Petit-Jacques, who
was busy grooming Coco.
"Yes, sir."
"Will you kindly give her this card and ask if she will see me?"
"Certainly, sir, at once."
Petit-Jacques returned a few minutes later with Mother Etienne.
The gentleman got down from his seat, handing the reins to his groom.
"Excuse me, Madame. I am Sir Booum. It was my circus which gave its
first performance here yesterday as announced on the placards posted
on the walls throughout the village.
I have heard, Madame, that you have a most extraordinary hen, and I
have come to beg you to show it to me. If it is really such as it was
described to me, I will buy it at once."
"Sir," said Mother Etienne, "I am very pleased to meet you; I will show
you Yollande as you ask, but sell her to you?--never. I love the dear
thing far too well to part with her."
"But, Madame, if I give you a large sum? How much do you ask?
Name your figure."
Mother Etienne, without answering a word, went off to fetch the
Cochin-China hen to show to her visitor.
American as he was, he was astounded and was soon convinced that
there had been no exaggeration. This was indeed the curly-haired hen.
"Well, Madame, how much is it to be?--$1,000, $2,000, $4,000? Can't
you make up your mind?"

"No, sir, please don't insist. I do not want to part with dear Yollande,"
and Mother Etienne, distressed and trembling, covered her hen with
caresses.
In vain the American urged. His eyes shone with the desire to include
this marvel in his collection. He could do nothing, and was finally
obliged to retreat.
"Night brings counsel, Madame. I will return tomorrow to visit you,
and I hope you will then decide in my favour. Until tomorrow, then,
Madame."
The gentleman bowed politely and got into his carriage. The equipage
left the courtyard, turned onto the high road, and was lost in the
distance in a cloud of golden dust.
CHAPTER VI
THE SEPARATION
Mother Etienne was much distressed. The unexpected appearance of
this personage, the offer of this huge sum of money, were enough to
excite a woman more worldly-wise than she. Germaine strove to
persuade her mistress to accept the offer.
"But, my dear mistress, think of it--$4,000. It is a fortune. Don't let it
escape you. It is a chance which will never come again. Think how well
Yollande will be cared for. He does not mean to eat her at that price.
Think of a stew costing $4,000. No indeed, the gentleman will try to
keep her well as long as possible. It will be to his interest not to hurt
her. Be sure of it, she will be as well cared for as she is here, if not
better."
Thus they talked all evening.
Mother Etienne, feverishly affectionate, looked at the hen lying as
usual asleep in the chimney corner. She could not make up her mind to
sell her sweet Cinderella. Her affection for Yollande had increased with

the constant care she had needed during so many long months. Besides,
the silky tresses curling like corkscrews, which Germaine had kept so
smooth, had been a source of amusement, not only to the farm but to
the whole neighbourhood.
That night Mother Etienne was much agitated in spite of the hot drink
Germaine had given her. She was haunted by a horrible nightmare. She
seemed to be lying on a bed of banknotes, whilst the Cochin-China,
sitting heavily on her chest, reproached her bitterly for having handed
her over to a stranger in exchange for a little filthy lucre. Mother
Etienne, bathed in perspiration, seemed to suffocate under her sheets.
At last dawn came, the good woman rose, her heart still terribly
oppressed. Germaine calmed her as best she could with reassuring
words and also with a foaming bowl of hot coffee.
All morning Mother Etienne endured torments.
It was three o'clock in the afternoon when suddenly the sound of a
heavy carriage drawn by four horses was heard in the courtyard. Labric
barked with all his might, Coco whinnied loudly, the three cows all
mooed at the same time, and the entire poultry-yard in an uproar added
its piercing and varied tones to the general tumult. The pigs especially
made a great noise.
It was the American's four-in-hand.
He was driving himself, and on his left sat a young and pretty woman,
exquisitely dressed in white.
The newcomers were at once shown into the huge