tten, I believe,' he said.

La Teuse stared at him and shrugged her shoulders. She folded up inside
the napkin a slice of stale home-made bread which had also been left
untouched on the table. Then just as the priest was about to go out,
she ran after him and knelt down at his feet, exclaiming: 'Stop, your
shoe-laces are not even fastened. I cannot imagine how your feet can
stand those peasant shoes, you're such a little, tender man and look as
if you had been preciously spoilt! Ah, the bishop must have known a deal
about you, to go and give you the poorest living in the department.'

'But it was I who chose Les Artaud,' said the priest, breaking into
another smile. 'You are very bad-tempered this morning, La Teuse. Are we
not happy here? We have got all we want, and our life is as peaceful as
if in paradise.'

She then restrained herself and laughed in her turn, saying: 'You are a
holy man, Monsieur le Cure. But come and see what a splendid wash I have
got. That will be better than squabbling with one another.'

The priest was obliged to follow, for she might prevent him going out
at all if he did not compliment her on her washing. As he left the
dining-room he stumbled over a heap of rubbish in the passage.

'What is this?' he asked.

Oh, nothing,' said La Teuse in her grimest tone. 'It's only the
parsonage coming down. However, you are quite content, you've got all
you want. Good heavens! there are holes and to spare. Just look at that
ceiling, now. Isn't it cracked all over? If we don't get buried alive
one of these days, we shall owe a precious big taper to our guardian
angel. However, if it suits you--It's like the church. Those broken
panes ought to have been replaced these two years. In winter our Lord
gets frozen with the cold. Besides, it would keep out those rascally
sparrows. I shall paste paper over the holes. You see if I don't.'

'A capital idea,' murmured the priest, 'they might very well be pasted
over. As to the walls, they are stouter than we think. In my room, the
floor has only given way slightly in front of the window. The house will
see us all buried.'

On reaching the little open shed near the kitchen, in order to please
La Teuse he went into ecstasies over the washing; he even had to dip
his fingers into it and feel it. This so pleased the old woman that
her attentions became quite motherly. She no longer scolded, but ran
to fetch a clothes-brush, saying: 'You surely are not going out wi