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Updated: May 19, 2025
La Teuse, who was helping to serve the mass in spite of all prohibitions, and was at that very moment handing the cruets to Vincent for the ablutions, thereupon turned round and loudly exclaimed: 'Do be quiet, Mademoiselle Desiree! Don't you see we haven't finished yet?
Le Teuse hastily put out the candles, but lingered to make one last attempt to drive away the sparrows, and so when she returned to the sacristy with the Missal she no longer found Abbe Mouret there. Having washed his hands and put away the sacred vessels and vestments, he was now standing in the dining room, breakfasting off a cup of milk.
At present La Teuse was willing to make way for Abbe Mouret, who ascended the altar steps, and, again lightly clapping his hands, exclaimed: 'Young ladies, to-morrow we will continue the devotions of the month of Mary. Those who may be unable to come ought at least to say their Rosary at home.
La Teuse, who had not previously had time to clean the church, was now dusting the altar, craning up on her sound leg to wipe the feet of the ochre and lake-bedaubed Christ, and arranging the chairs as quietly as possible; all the while bowing and crossing herself, and following the service, but not omitting a single sweep of her feather broom.
At this the three big hussies felt alarmed, stepped back, and subsided into sedateness. 'You worthless things! hissed La Teuse. 'You come to talk a lot of filth here, do you? Aren't you ashamed of yourself, La Rousse? You ought to be there, on your knees, before the altar, like Rosalie. I will throw you outside if you stir again. Do you hear?
It would be better to throw the host to the pigs than carry it to that scoundrel. Then he helped himself to more potatoes, and with his elbows on the table, his chin in his plate, began chewing furiously. La Teuse, her lips pinched, quite white with anger, contented herself with saying dryly: 'Let it be, his reverence will have his own way. He has secrets from us now. Silence reigned.
'Good morning, Monsieur le Cure, said La Teuse, laying her broom aside. 'Oh! you have been lazy this morning! Do you know it's a quarter past six? And without allowing the smiling young priest sufficient time to reply, she added 'I've a scolding to give you. There's another hole in the cloth again. There's no sense in it.
Brother Archangias, still busy at his psalm-singing, winked and nodded in the direction of the dozing priest. 'What's the matter? asked La Teuse. The Brother replied by a yet more significant wink. 'Well, what do you mean? Can't you speak? Ah! there's a king. That's capital! so I take your queen.
What's the good of staring at me like that with your big eyes? Fine rosemary yours is, my word! as yellow as a thistle. You next, La Rousse. Ah, well, that is splendid laurel! You got that out of your field at Croix-Verte, I know. The big girls laid their branches on the altar, which they kissed; and there they lingered for a while, handing up the greenery to La Teuse.
'Now my soup is too hot! grumbled La Teuse, as she returned from the kitchen with a basin, from which a wooden spoon was projecting. She placed herself just in front of Abbe Mouret, and began to eat very cautiously from the edge of the spoon. She wanted to enliven the Abbe and to draw him out of his melancholy moodiness.
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