When Boulôt and Boulotte, the little piny-wood twins, had reached the
dignified age of twelve, it was decided in family council that the
time had come for them to put their little naked feet into shoes. They
were two brown-skinned, black-eyed 'Cadian roly-polies, who lived
with father and mother and a troop of brothers and sisters halfway up
the hill, in a neat log cabin that had a substantial mud chimney at
one end. They could well afford shoes now, for they had saved many a
picayune through their industry of selling wild grapes, blackberries,
and "socoes" to ladies in the village who "put up" such things.
Boulôt and Boulotte were to buy the shoes themselves, and they selected
a Saturday afternoon for the important transaction, for that is the
great shopping time in Natchitoches Parish. So upon a bright Saturday
afternoon Boulôt and Boulotte, hand in hand, with their quarters, their
dimes, and their picayunes tied carefully in a Sunday handkerchief,
descended the hill, and disappeared from the gaze of the eager group
that had assembled to see them go.
Long before it was time for their return, this same small band, with
ten year old Seraphine at their head, holding a tiny Seraphin in
her arms, had stationed themselves in a row before the cabin at a
convenient point from which to make quick and careful observation.
Even before the two could be caught sight of, their chattering voices
were heard down by the spring, where they had doubtless stopped to
drink. The voices grew more and more audible. Then, through the
branches of the young pines, Boulotte's blue sun-bonnet appeared, and
Boulôt's straw hat. Finally the twins, hand in hand, stepped into the
clearing in full view.
Consternation seized the band.
"You bof crazy _donc_, Boulôt an' Boulotte," screamed Seraphine. "You
go buy shoes, an' come home barefeet like you was go!"
Boulôt flushed crimson. He silently hung his head, and looked
sheepishly down at his bare feet, then at the fine stout brogans that
he carried in his hand. He had not thought of it.
Boulotte also carried shoes, but of the glossiest, with the highest of
heels and brightest of buttons. But she was not one to be disconcerted
or to look sheepish; far from it.
"You 'spec' Boulôt an' me we got money fur was'e--us?" she retorted,
with withering condescension. "You think we go buy shoes fur ruin it in
de dus'? _Comment!_"
And they all walked into the house crest-fallen; all but Boulotte, who
was mistress of the situation, and Seraphin, who did not care one way
or the other.