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Diddily Dee Dot's Dreamland for Children Everywhere
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Mon, 20 Sep 2010
Noiraud is a dog, a French dog his breed is called "Berger Picard," but he is also very wise.
This is a Berger - Picard, it could
be Noiraud
Diddilydeedot's Dream Land
introduces you to:

 And his Little Adventure.

His name is Noiraud. Noiraud is a French dog.
In that little white house with green shutters at the end of the street lives an old man whose name is Pierre. He is a guide, and Noiraud is his dog.
     There are no mountains near this little village in France where Noiraud lives, but there is a fine waterfall, called the "Chaudron."

Every one goes to thDaily Doodle, Little
Waterfall, by mynti.deviantart.come Chaudron,  I was told.
"Very well," I said; "but who will take me ? "
"Why old Pierre , of course; and of he is ill, Noiraud."
     This was very funny. I had often taken a dog out to walk before, but this was the first time a dog had take
n me. So I said, - "Very well ; bring him.
     When Noiraud saw me, he gave me a long, earnest look, and away he went.
The first part of the way was hot and dusty. I soon got tired, so I sat down on a large stone by the roadside. But do you think Noiraud would allow this ? Not a bit of it. He planted himself in front of me, and barked so loudly and fiercely that I was obliged to go on.
After a little while we turned into a green lane, and you should have seen his delight. He frisked and capered about with joy, and then suddenly stopped in front of a little bench
Little cottagesby the wayside. Here he stretched himself on the ground, and I sat down.
      Noiraud lay perfectly still , but he kept one eye fixed on me. After five minutes he got up, shook himself, and away he went again.
     We s
Little cottagesoon reached the Chaudron. It was very pretty. The water leaped and sparkled over the mossy stones, in the midst of a green glade. In the glade were two wooden houses built like Swiss cottages. In the door of each little house stood a milkmaid in Swiss dress. They were both ready to sell us milk and cakes. One girl was fair, and the other dark. I thought the fair one was the prettier, and went towards her.
But Noiraud did not approve of this. He began again to bark fiercely, nor would he stop until I turned my steps to the dark girl.

     When I had drunk my glass of milk I looked round for Noiraud, but he had gone. I peeped in at the window of the dark girl's cottage, and there he was before a large bowl of milk. "Ah, you rogue," I said to myself, "that was why you liked the dark haired girl best."
     We went home as gaily as we came, but by another road. He was too clever, this Noiraud, to take me back the same way. I am sure you will think, like me, that Noiraud is a wonderful dog.

Posted 15:47

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