her husband.

"John, dear, let him finish what he has begun, I beg, and you shall have
eight bushels. Shall he not?" she added, turning to her lover.

"I am satisfied," he said, "though on my oath it is too much, seeing how
dear corn is."

"It is too much?" said the good man. "Morbleu! I much regret that I did
not say more, for you would have to pay a much heavier fine if you were
brought to justice: however, make up your mind that I will have twelve
bushels, or you shall die."

"Truly, John," said his wife, "you are wrong to contradict me. It seems
to me that you ought to be satisfied with eight bushels, for you know
that is a large quantity of wheat."

"Say no more," he replied, "I will have twelve bushels, or I will kill
him and you too."

"The devil," quoth the lover; "you drive a bargain; but at least, if I
must pay you, let me have time."

"That I agree to, but I will have my twelve bushels."

The dispute ended thus, and it was agreed that he was to pay in two
instalments,--six bushels on the morrow, and the others on St. Remy's
day, then near.

All this was arranged by the wife, who then said to her husband.

"You are satisfied, are you not, to receive your wheat in the manner I
have said?"

"Certainly," he replied.

"Then go," she said, "whilst he finishes the work he had begun when you
interrupted him; otherwise the contract will not be binding."

"By St. John! is it so?" said the lover.

"I always keep my word," said the good merchant. "By God, no man shall
say I am a cheat or a liar. You will finish the job you have begun, and
I am to have my twelve bushels of wheat on the terms agreed. That was
our contract--was it not?"

"Yes, truly," said his wife.

"Good bye, then," said the husband, "but at any rate be sure that I have
six bushels of wheat to-morrow."

"Don't be afraid," said the other. "I will keep my word." So the good
man left the house, quite joyful that he was to have twelve bushels of
wheat, and his wife and her lover recommenced more heartily than ever. I
have heard that the wheat was duly delivered on the dates agreed.

*****

[Illustration: 44.jpg The match-making Priest.]

STORY THE FORTY-FOURTH -- THE MATCH-MAKING PRIEST.

By Monseigneur De La Roche.

_Of a village priest who found a husband for a girl with whom he was in
love, and who had promised him that when she was married she would do
whatever he wished, of which he reminded her on the wedding-day,