work, he betook himself to the parsonage.
The cure was waiting for him in the garden, reading his breviary as he
walked along a little path. 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."

The carpenter, so disturbed that he had not two ideas in his head,
watched him as he put on the white vestment with its pleated folds. The
priest beckoned to him and said:

"Kneel down on this cushion."

Sabot remained standing, ashamed of having to kneel. He stuttered:

"Is it necessary?"

But the abbe had become dignified.

"You cannot approach the penitent bench except on your knees."

And Sabot knelt down.

"Repeat the confiteor," said the priest.

"What is that?" asked Sabot.

"The confiteor. If you do not remember it, repeat after me, one by one,
the words I am going to say." And the cure repeated the sacred prayer,
in a slow tone, emphasizing the words which the carpenter repeated after
him. Then he said:

"Now make your confession."

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.'

"Have you ever loved anything, or anybody, as well as you loved God?
Have you loved him with all your soul, all your heart, all the strength
of your love?"

Sabot was perspiring with the effort of thinking. He replied:

"No. Oh, no, m'sieu le cure. I love God as much as I can. That is
--yes--I love him very much. To say that I do not love my children,
no--I cannot say that. To say that if I had to choose between them and
God, I could not be sure. To say that if I had to lose a hundred francs
for the love of God, I could not say about that. But I love him well,
for sure, I love him all the same." The priest said gravely "You must
love Him more than all besides." And Sabot, meaning well, declared "I
will do what I possibly can, m'sieu le cure." The abbe resumed