AN ADVENTURE IN THE BOIS
Jeanne and Pierrot were walking through the Bois de Boulogne (bwä´ dẽ
bōō´-lōn´). That is a beautiful wood in Paris where children and
grown people play and walk and go boating on silvery lakes.
[Illustration: THE BOIS DE BOULOGNE]
Jeanne and Pierrot walked in the Bois (bwä), hand in hand. Pierrot was
not crying any more, though it had taken Jeanne a long time to soothe
him. She told him of the many stories she would make up. She told him of
the many fine adventures he would have as the hero of these stories.
Jeanne now had a story in her mind. And she was taking Pierrot to a
quiet spot where she could tell him about it.
"Sit here beside me, Pierrot," she said at last.
They had found a sylvan dell that might have been in the heart of
fairy-land, instead of in the heart of a big city like Paris.
"Now, listen, Pierrot," said Jeanne. "I am going to tell you a very fine
story. You and I shall be the actors in it. I shall be Joan of Arc and
you shall be my knight.
"You know that Joan of Arc was only a little girl when she heard the
call to save her country. She rode a big horse at the head of an army.
"She marched against the enemy with a sword in her hand. But my story
says that without her brave knight she could not have won the battle."
Pierrot's shirt puffed out. His little clown cap went up in the
air--puff!--and came down again on his head. He was very proud indeed.
Jeanne was pleased because she had made him happy.
"Now see! We shall begin our story and I am hearing the call."
Jeanne stood; but first she picked up a long stick from the ground. The
stick turned into a sword--a glittering sword.
Jeanne was dressed in shining steel armor. Pierrot's tiny clown suit
changed to a coat of mail. They were ready for the battle.
"Forward, my brave men of France," called Joan of Arc. And the little
puppet saluted Jeanne. But Jeanne cried, "My horse! Where is my horse?"
A large statue appeared before them. It was the iron statue of a horse.
It was twice the size of a real horse.
Jeanne tried to mount. She could not. She was too small. The horse was
too high. But Pierrot mounted. With a graceful leap, he was upon the
charger's back. Then down he flew and offered Jeanne his hand. Up flew
the puppet, and Jeanne flew with him.
They sat upon the iron charger. Slowly he moved his joints, and then
off, off he galloped with the little girl and the puppet.
All the time Jeanne was brandishing her sword. She was Joan of Arc and
she was riding at the head of her army of France as Joan of Arc had done
long, long ago.
"Wait, wait!" called a voice. A policeman was running after them through
the Bois. "Stop! You have stolen a statue from the park. Bring back the
iron horse!"
He was so little--that policeman--and the horse was so big that they did
not mind him.
"He is only a policeman," said Jeanne to Pierrot. "He is always clubbed
and kicked in the Guignol plays."
Pierrot laughed, and pop!--part of his armor burst!
"Oh, he is a wicked, wicked policeman," said Jeanne. "The children
always hate him in the Guignol plays."
So away from the policeman they galloped.
But wait! Look! The policeman has grown, and he is now as tall as the
horse! The club he carries has grown, too, and he clubs the iron horse.
It makes a terrible noise, and the horse stops.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
"Wake up, little one!" says a gruff voice.
Jeanne opens her eyes and looks into the face of a policeman standing
over her in the park. She has been asleep on the bench, with the little
puppet Pierrot in her arms.
It is very dark in the park. It is night.
"Come," says the policeman. "Tell me where you live, little one."
Oh, the terrible policeman of the Guignol plays! Jeanne remembers how
the children hate him, and she tries to run away.
But the policeman catches hold of her arm. It seems to Jeanne that his
face is kind.
"Come, little one! Do not be afraid of me. I am the friend of the
children. Tell me where you live and let me take you home," he says.
It was very dark in the park, but as they walked through the city
streets, the lights made everything as bright as day.
Jeanne and the policeman and Pierrot came to the door of Auntie Sue's
Shop. When the policeman handed Jeanne to Auntie Sue, the little girl
could not help wondering why the children hate the policeman in the
Guignol plays.
"Oh, Jeanne, my little one, ma chérie! Where have you been?" cried
Auntie Sue.
It was quite evident that poor Auntie Sue had been worried ill. She
caught the little dreamer and the puppet into her arms. She hugged them
so tightly that Jeanne thought they would both be crushed. Jeanne was
more concerned about Pierrot than about herself, though, for he was so
little and frail.
Then Auntie put Jeanne to bed with Pierrot beside her, his face peering
out from the covers.
And when Auntie had left them alone, Jeanne whispered to her little
puppet friend, "Pierrot, the policeman shall not be bad in our stories!
He is good, you see. In our stories you shall be the hero. The policeman
shall be a kind man who loves children. Guignol shall be the wicked one,
and you shall kick and beat him."
Pierrot did not move. Jeanne was awake now, you see. And puppets do not
move by themselves when children are awake.
But Jeanne thought she saw his eyes twinkle and his nose wriggle just
the least bit, before she popped off to sleep.