He will be quite safe here, and you feel it is not cold." "And are there no rats, or naughty dogs about--nothing like that ?" asked Hugh rather anxiously.
"Of course not," replied Jeanne.

"Do you think I'd leave Houpet here if there were?
I'll call to Houpet now, and tell him to be kind to the little cochon." "But Houpet's asleep, and, besides, how would he know what you say ?" objected Hugh.
For all answer Jeanne gave a sort of little whistle--half whistle, half coo it was.

"Houpet, Houpet," she called softly, "we've brought a little cochon de Barbarie to sleep in your house.

You must be very kind to him--do you hear, Houpet dear?
and in the morning you must fly down and peep in at his cage and tell him you're very glad to see him." A faint, a very faint little rustle was heard up above in the corner where Jeanne had tried to persuade her cousin that the chickens were to be _seen_, and delighted at this evidence that any way they were to be _heard_, she turned to him triumphantly.
"That's Houpet," she said.

"Dear little fellow, he's too sleepy to crow--he just gives a little wriggle to show that he's heard me.