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As if I do not talk to a million strangers every summer! as if I could ever sell a flower if I did not! You are cross this morning; that is what it is." "Do you know the man's name?" said Jeannot, suddenly. Bébée felt her cheeks grow warm as with some noonday heat of sunshine. She thought it was with anger against blundering Jeannot's curiosity.
There was Babbette, and Nannette, and Pierrot, and Jeannot, I cannot tell them all, but Jean knew every name. "Come, Bettine and Marie. Come, Pierrot and Croisette. Come, pretty ones all," he called as he led them from the fold that day. "I will carry you to the meadows where the daisies grow."
Should she? if he left the peach-blossom safe on the wall, Jeannot the woodcutter would come by and by and gather the fruit.
Her fate was in the balance, though she did not dream it: he had dealt with her tenderly, honestly, sacredly all that day almost as much so as stupid Jeannot could have done. He had been touched by her trust in him, and by the unconscious beauty of her fancies, into a mood that was unlike all his life and habits. But after all, he said to himself After all!
"He was in the lane as I came home last night yes." "What does he give you for your roses?" "Oh! he pays me well. How is your mother this day, Jeannot?" "You do not like to talk of him?" "Why should you want to talk of him? He is nothing to you." "Did you really see him only two days ago, Bébée?" "Oh, Jeannot! did I ever tell a falsehood? You would not say that to one of your little sisters."
She would marry Jeannot, and bear many children, as those people always did; and ruddy little peasants would cling about these pretty, soft, little breasts of hers; and she would love them after the manner of such women, and be very content clattering over the stones in her wooden shoes; and growing brown and stout, and more careful after money, and ceasing to dream of unknown things, and not seeing God at all in the fields, but looking low and beholding only the ears of the gleaning wheat and the feet of the tottering children; and so gaining her bread, and losing her soul, and stooping nearer and nearer to earth till she dropped into it like one of her own wind-blown wall-flowers when the bee has sucked out all its sweetness and the heats have scorched up all its bloom: yes, of course, she would marry Jeannot and end so!
The introduction to the gypsy-chorus in 'Preciosa' signified the German gypsy-flock. Then came the thema out of 'Jeannot and Collin' 'O, joyous days of childhood! and then thou wast at home. I thundered powerfully down in the bass; that was the North Sea, the chorus in thy present grand' opéra. Thou canst well imagine that it was quite original.
How will it be with you when the slug gets your roses, and the snail your carnations, and your hens die of damp, and your lace is all wove awry, because your head runs on reading and folly, and you are spoilt for all simple pleasures and for all honest work?" She smiled, still looking up at the moon, with the dropping ivy touching her hair. "You are cross, dear Jeannot. Good night."
"Are you very happy?" the old woman demanded, making Euphemia sit down before her. "I'm almost afraid to say so, lest I should wake myself up." "May you never wake up, belle enfant," Madame de Mauves grandly returned. "This is the first marriage ever made in our family in this way by a Comte de Mauves proposing to a young girl in an arbour like Jeannot and Jeannette.
But my master had lain at the hostelry called L'Asne Roye, in the parvise, opposite to the cathedral, where also lay Jean d'Arc, the father of the Maid. Thither she herself came to visit him, and she gave gifts to such of the people of her own countryside as were gathered at Reims. "And, Jeannot, do you fear nothing?" one of them asked her, who had known her from a child.
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