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Updated: April 30, 2025
He appeared radiant and greeted him with a good-natured laugh. "Well, here we are! Come in, come in, Monsieur Sabot, no one will eat you." And Sabot preceded him into the house. He faltered: "If you do not mind I should like to get through with this little matter at once." The cure replied: "I am at your service. I have my surplice here. One minute and I will listen to you."
They were of every conceivable shape and shapelessness, most of them flattened; some of them, the greenhorn would swear, were fashioned by man into roughly embossed hearts, or shells, or polished discs like rude, defaced coins. One was a perfect staple, another the letter "L," another like an axe-head, and one like a peasant's sabot.
Sabot smiled and asked with an awkward air: "Would it not be possible to put off this communion just a trifle?" But the priest replied, resuming his severe expression: "From the moment that the work is put into your hands, I want to be assured of your conversion." Then he continued more gently: "You will come to confession to-morrow; for I must examine you at least twice."
The carpenter felt he was growing pale, and without replying, he asked: "And the benches, are they going to be renovated?" The abbe replied with confidence: "Yes, but later on." Sabot resumed: "I do not say, I do not say. I am not calling it off, I am consenting to religion, for sure. But what rubs me the wrong way is, putting it in practice; but in this case I will not be refractory."
"And now with your permission, Baron, I shall go to bed," at last said Count Victor. "I shall sleep to-night, like a sabot. I am, I know, the boldest of beggars for your grace and kindness. It seems I am fated in this country to make free, not only with my enemy's coat, but with my dear friend's domicile as if it were an inn. To-morrow, Baron, I shall make my dispositions.
Black, burnt, dreary, lay the hospitable abode. The building had fallen, but the beams of the upper floor had fallen aslant, so as to shelter a portion of the lower room, where the red-tile pavement, the hearth with the gray ashes of the harmless home-fire, some unbroken crocks, a chain, and a sabot, were still visible, making the contrast of dreariness doubly mournful.
But Sabot was silent, not knowing where to begin. The abbe then came to his aid. "My child, I will ask you questions, since you don't seem familiar with these things. We will take, one by one, the commandments of God. Listen to me and do not be disturbed. Speak very frankly and never fear that you may say too much. "'One God alone, thou shalt adore, And love him perfectly.
What I reproach Millet with is that it is always the same thing, the same peasant, the same sabot, the same sentiment. You must admit that it is somewhat stereotyped. What does that matter; what is more stereotyped than Japanese art? But that does not prevent it from being always beautiful. People talk of Manet's originality; that is just what I can't see.
I rather liked to find myself the silent, unknown, consequently unaccosted neighbour of the short petticoat and the sabot; and only the distant gazer at the silk robe, the velvet mantle, and the plumed chapeau. Amidst so much life and joy, too, it suited me to be alone quite alone.
Then the abbe folded his arms across his large stomach and, as if filled with amazement, said: "Is it you you you, Sabot who have come to ask me for this... You the only irreligious man in my parish! Why, it would be a scandal, a public scandal! The archbishop would give me a reprimand, perhaps transfer me."
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