"I wonder what Dudu is doing, poor old fellow.

Oh, how cold he must be! I suppose Grignan is asleep in a hole in the hedge, and the chickens will be all right any way.

I have not seen Houpet all day." "Houpet" was Jeanne's favourite of the three chickens.

He had come by his name on account of a wonderful tuft of feathers on the top of his head, which stuck straight up and then waved down again, something like a little umbrella.

No doubt he was a very rare and wonderful chicken, and if I were clever about chickens I would be able to tell you all his remarkable points.