t choking with suppressed
laughter.

Saint Blanc was indeed stuck into the earth like an ordinary stake,
covered with mud and dirt, and forming a corner for the rabbit hutch.

As soon as they perceived him, the two women fell on their knees, crossed
themselves and began to murmur an "Oremus." But Matthew darted toward
them.

"Wait," he said, "you are in the mud; I will get you a bundle of straw."

He went to fetch the straw and made them a priedieu. Then, looking at his
muddy saint and doubtless afraid of bringing discredit on his business,
he added:

"I will clean him off a little for you."

He took a pail of water and a brush and began to scrub the wooden image
vigorously, while the two old women kept on praying.

When he had finished he said:

"Now he is all right." And he took us back to the house to drink another
glass.

As he was carrying the glass to his lips he stopped and said in a rather
confused manner:

"All the same, when I put Saint Blanc out with the rabbits I thought he
would not make any more money. For two years no one had asked for him.
But the saints, you see, they are never out of date."

ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES, Vol. 11.

GUY DE MAUPASSANT
ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES
Translated by
ALBERT M. C. McMASTER, B.A.
A. E. HENDERSON, B.A.
MME. QUESADA and Others

VOLUME XI.

THE UMBRELLA

Mme. Oreille was a very economical woman; she knew the value of a
centime, and possessed a whole storehouse of strict principles with
regard to the multiplication of money, so that her cook found the
greatest difficulty in making what the servants call their market-penny,
and her husband was hardly allowed any pocket money at all. They were,
however, very comfortably off, and had no children; but it really pained
Mme. Oreille to see any money spent; it was like tearing at her
heartstrings when she had to take any of those nice crown-pieces out of
her pocket; and whenever she had to spend anything, no matter how
necessary it might be, she slept badly the next night.

Oreille was continually saying to his wife:

"You really might be more liberal, as we have no children, and never
spend our income."

"You don't know what may happen," she used to reply. "It is better to
have too much than too little."

She was a little woman of about forty, very active, rather hasty,
wrinkled, very neat and tidy, and w