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Updated: May 25, 2025
The dormice were two soft, brown creatures, almost as pretty and as innocent as the squirrel, and a great deal tamer; and they were called Jeannette and Jeannot, and would come when they were called by their names, and take a bit of cake or a lump of sugar out of the fingers of their little mistress.
But when in the figure of the woodman there was painted visibly on the dusky sky that end for her which he had foreseen, he was not indifferent to it; he resented it; he was stirred to a vague desire to render it impossible. If Jeannot had not gone by across the fields he would have left her and let her alone from that night thenceforwards; as it was, "Good night, Bébée," he said to her.
His friends laughed at him, and would not take the same care of their knives, which they lost one breaking the blade, another the handle. But Jeannot, having always kept his knife in good order, could always make use of it, cleverly and powerfully. Well, I think there is some analogy between the tale of this humble man and the history of your great University.
The reporter's curiosity was awakened by Mr. Baker's mention of the old lady who made those very fine draw plates, and on his return to the city he hunted her up. Mrs. Francis A. Jeannot, the lady in question, was found in neat apartments in a handsome flat in West Fifty-first street. Age has silvered her hair, but her eyes are still bright, and her movements indicate elasticity and strength.
'Mais c'est le couteau de Jeannot que cette Universite, said one of my interlocutors. Well, I will give you the tale of Jeannot's knife. There was once a young peasant called Jeannot, and he had a knife of which he took great care. He found that the blade was rusting and he changed the blade. Then he found that the handle was decaying from dry-rot, and he changed the handle; and so on.
Wait one moment, Sir Count; there is one thing that I promised myself to say if ever I came safe to my own dear home. Walter Maurice Jeannot all you of my household, and of Sir Eric's I know, before I went away, I was often no good Lord to you; I was passionate, and proud, and overbearing; but God has punished me for it, when I was far away among my enemies, and sick and lonely.
Bébée gave a little cry of recognition. "Oh, look, that is Jeannot! How he will wonder to see me here!" Flamen drew her a little downward, so that the forester passed onward without perceiving them. "Why do you do that?" said Bébée. "Shall I not speak to him?" "Why? To have all your neighbors chatter of your feast in the forest? It is not worth while."
Suddenly a clear and fresh soprano voice rang out from the garden below, singing a verse of a doggerel French song: "Eh, Pierrot! Danse, Pierrot! Danse un peu, mon pauvre Jeannot! Vive la danse et l'allegresse! Jouissons de notre bell' jeunesse! Si moi je pleure ou moi je soupire, Si moi je fais la triste figure Monsieur, ce n'est que pour rire! Ha! Ha, ha, ha! Monsieur, ce n'est que pour rire!"
The starling spread his broad black wings above her head. She lay quite still once more. The women left the rosebud in the wooden shoe, not knowing what she meant. Night fell. Mère Krebs watched beside her. Jeannot went down to the old church to beseech heaven with all his simple, ignorant, tortured soul.
She would weep a little to-morrow, and she would not kneel any more at the shrine in the garden wall; and then and then she would stay here and marry the good boor Jeannot, just the same after a while; or drift away after him to Paris, and leave her two little wooden shoes, and her visions of Christ in the fields at evening, behind her forevermore, and do as all the others did, and take not only silken stockings but the Cinderella slipper that is called Gold, which brings all other good things in its train; what matter!
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