into the church to wait for Martine to come and fetch me when I saw Eugene. He took me by the hand, and said, laughing as he spoke, "If your dress had not been as yellow as it is I should certainly have forgotten you." He looked at me as though he were making fun of me and as though he were amused at something. He took me to the schoolmaster and asked him to give me luncheon, and to take me for a walk with the children. The schoolmaster was dressed like the gentlemen of the town. Eugene wore a blue blouse, and I was very much surprised to see them so friendly together. While we were waiting for lunch the schoolmaster lent me a book of fairy tales, and when the time came for the walk I would much rather have been left alone to finish the book. On the village green the boys and girls were dancing in the sunshine and the dust. I thought that they danced too roughly, and that they were too noisy. I felt very sad, and when the cart drove us back to the farm at nightfall I felt really glad to be back in the silence and the sweet smell of the meadows again. A few days after that, on our way home from the forest, a sheep which had been grazing near the hedge jumped right up into the air. I went to see what was the matter, and saw that his nose was bleeding. I thought that he must have pricked himself with a big thorn, and after having washed him I didn't think anything more about it. Next day I was terrified to see that his head had swollen up till it was almost as big as his body. It frightened me so much that I screamed. Martine came running up, and she began screaming too, and everybody came. I explained what had happened the day before, and the farmer said that the sheep must have been bitten by a viper. He would have to be cared for, and must be left in the stable until the swelling had gone down. I asked nothing better than to look after the poor brute, but when I was alone with it I felt frightened to death. That enormous head, which wobbled on the little body, made me half crazy with terror. The great big eyes, the enormous mouth and the ears, which stood straight up, made a monster almost impossible to imagine. The poor beast always remained in the middle of the stable, as though he were afraid of bumping himself against the wall. I tried to go to him, telling myself that it was only a sheep after all, but I could not. But directly he turned towards me I felt dreadfully sorry for him. Sometimes I used to think that this dreadful face which wobbled from right to left was reproaching me. Then something seemed to wobble inside my head, and I felt as though I were going mad. I quite understood that I was perfectly capable of letting him die of hunger. I told the cowherd about it, and he said that he would look after the sheep as long as the inflammation lasted. He laughed at me a little, and said he could not understand how I could be afraid of a sick sheep.