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Updated: May 4, 2025
"My cat was with you!" said Mother Michel; "you have stolen him! My mistress is powerful; my mistress is the Countess Yolande de la Grenouillère; she will have you chastised as you deserve to be!" While making these threats Mother Michel placed Moumouth under her arm, and prepared to depart. Madame Bradamor stopped her, saying: "Do not ruin me, I conjure you! I have not stolen your cat!"
"Madame the Countess will act as she thinks proper," responded Mother Michel, haughtily; and she vanished with her cat. She made but one step from the house of Madame Bradamor to that of Madame de la Grenouillère; one would have said that Mother Michel had on the seven-league boots of little Tom Thumb.
"But, madame, I am not alone; the most distinguished people go to Madame Bradamor; she is more learned and less dear than her rivals, and asks only ten crowns to make you behold the devil Astaroth." "Enough, for pity's sake!" responded the Countess, dryly.
"I believe that without difficulty; but why do you look at it?" "Because I find it handsome, and would like to live in it; one ought to be happy there." "Yes, indeed," answered the steward, with emphasis; "they pass the days there happily enough. Who is that woman with whom you were speaking a while since?" "It was Madame Bradamor."
"Madame Bradamor, the famous fortune-teller, who lives below, at the other end of the street?" "The same." "You know her?" "A little; I sometimes do errands for her." "Ah, ah!... And what did the old wizard say to you?" "She said that if I could enter that house as a domestic, I should have a very agreeable existence."
"I am the very one to satisfy you," replied Madame Bradamor; "but what you demand is very difficult, and will cost you three crowns." "There they are; I give them to you with all my heart." Madame Bradamor, full of regret that she had not insisted on having more, pocketed the money, and began in these terms: "What is the date of your birth?" "The 24th of May, 1698."
After these customary questions, the fortune-teller examined some coffee-grounds poured into a saucer, and said: "Phaldarus, the genie of things unknown, informs me that you are in search of a being very dear to you." Mother Michel bounded in her chair with surprise. Madame Bradamor continued: "This being is not a man; it is a quadruped either a dog or a cat.
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