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when father grandgousier heard that the name which the very oldest of the wise women had found for his son had been fixed for all time, he was delighted beyond measure, and said to queen gargamelle, while rubbing the palms of his great hands together:—
"so the witch has fastened 'gargantua' on my boy after all. by my crown! what we have to do now is never to let master great throat be empty. now, tell me, my dear, where are we to get milk enough for that throat?"
the queen looked at her baby; then she looked at her husband; then she looked into herself, and, finding nothing there to say, smiled, and said nothing.
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the queen looked at her baby.
when father grandgousier called into the queen's chamber, for a secret conference, his royal butler, who, first asking permission of their majesties, called the royal steward, who called the royal dairyman, who called the chief milkman. after a long talk behind closed doors, the whole party filed out of the royal apartments, the chief milkman holding in his hand a scroll, showing a large, red seal, and tied many times around with a broad, red ribbon, the royal butler closing the line and looking wise as a privy-councillor.
the scroll contained an order, authorizing the chief milkman—as there were not cows enough in the whole kingdom to give such milk as was needed for the young prince—to furnish the remainder. so there were brought to the royal cattle-yard seventeen thousand nine hundred and thirteen cows, all famed for the richness of their milk. master gargantua had, luckily, with the milk of these cows, enough to keep him alive until he was a year and ten months old. then the wise old doctor thought that the child ought to be taken more into the fresh air. in fact, what the doctor really wanted, and was half crazy about not finding, was a carriage suited to the young prince. a common baby carriage would not do at all. at last a youthful page, who dearly loved the strong oxen he had seen during the frequent visits he was fond of making to the royal stables, thought a fine large cart, not too pretty but very strong, and drawn by oxen, might do. the oxen were ready, but they could not be used until the royal carpenter had measured and made a cart that would hold the young giant.
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an uncommon baby carriage.
there never was a happier baby than gargantua the first time he was placed in the cart. he was, in truth, a marvel of a baby, both because his body was so big and his face was so broad that, from much drinking of milk and good wines, he could boast of several chins,—some said nine; others swore there were ten,—which lapped each one over the other, as if they felt they were good company. every day he would be taken out to ride. then when he was tired he would cry, "drink! drink! drink!" whenever that cry was heard, presto! the cart would come to a stand-still, the oxen would begin to munch, and everybody would make a rush to the wine-cellar. of course, the king's son always had the best wines, and the lackey who was lucky enough to reach him first when he cried for drink always had the right to a cupful for himself. so it is quite certain that never was a baby so well waited on as was gargantua. he cried "drink! drink! drink!" so often that all the servants got to be sad topers from skipping off to the cellars whenever he called; and it turned out at last that even the tinkling of an empty glass, as a knife would strike against it, or the sight of a flagon or a bottle, would make him jump up and dance with joy, and start him afresh to bawling for "drink! drink! drink!" and the lackeys to scampering to the wine-cellar after the wine.
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the servants got to be sad topers.
