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Updated: May 11, 2025
"I include by begging you to take care of yourself if you wish to do me good; for nothing makes me feel so well as to think that you want for nothing. "Your son, from the bottom of my heart, This is the answer that the portress dictated to me: "MY GOOD JACQUOT: It makes me very happy to see that your heart is still as true as ever, and that you will never shame those who have brought you up.
Thy mother, Jacquot, is a holy woman, but she has not the best of society manners, and at first she talked without aim or reason. She said: 'Madame, at our age, besides God Almighty nothing remains to us but our children. That was not the right thing to say to that great lady who still has her gallants." "Hold your tongue, Leonard," exclaimed my mother.
My good mother looked inquiringly and anxiously at me and went on: "What more I have to inform you about, my dear Jacquot, is still less believable. However, Cadette Saint-Avit spoke of it as of a certainty. And so I will tell you that M. Hercules d'Asterac, when he lived on his estate, had no other care but to bottle the rays of the sun.
My father came in haste from the Little Bacchus and said with a moving dignity: "Jacquot, my son, I cannot and will not deny that I Was very angry when I saw the constables enter the Queen Pedauque in search of you, or, in default of you, arresting me. They would not listen to any sort of remonstrance, alleging that I could easily explain myself after being taken to jail.
For this he carried on holidays the banner of the Cooks' Guild, on which a fine- looking St Laurence was embroidered, with his grill and a golden palm. He used to say to me: "Jacquot, thy mother is a holy and worthy woman." He liked to repeat this sentence frequently. True, my mother went to church every Sunday with a prayer-book printed in big type.
Cadette Saint-Avit does not know how he managed it, but she is sure that after a time, in the flagons well corked and heated in water baths, tiny little women took form, charming figures and dressed like theatre princesses. You laugh, Jacquot; however, one ought not to joke over such things when one can see the consequence.
"Latterly, Jacquot," he said, "I gave the place to Friar Ange, but he did not do as well as Miraut or yourself. Don't you want to take your old place at the corner of the fireside?" My mother, plain and simple as she was, did not want common-sense and said: "M. Blaizot, the bookseller of the Image of Saint Catherine, is in want of an assistant.
I reassured my good mother as well as I could and told her that M. d'Asterac made me work in Greek, which was the language in which the New Testament was written; this pleased her, but she remained pensive. "You'll never guess, my dear Jacquot," she said, "who spoke to me of M. d'Asterac. It was Cadette Saint-Avit, the serving-woman of the Rector of St Benoit.
"I include by begging you to take care of yourself if you wish to do me good; for nothing makes me feel so well as to think that you want for nothing. "Your son, from the bottom of my heart, This is the answer that the portress dictated to me: "MY GOOD JACQUOT: It makes me very happy to see that your heart is still as true as ever, and that you will never shame those who have brought you up.
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