essed expression on his face, that there was
nothing left to look at. I breathed freely. I would now be able to rest
under the shade of the trees. But, all at once, he uttered an
exclamation:

"Oh, yes! We have the 'Mother of Monsters'; I must take you to see her."

"Who is that, the 'Mother of Monsters'?" I asked.

"She is an abominable woman," he replied, "a regular demon, a being who
voluntarily brings into the world deformed, hideous, frightful children,
monstrosities, in fact, and then sells them to showmen who exhibit such
things.

"These exploiters of freaks come from time to time to find out if she has
any fresh monstrosity, and if it meets with their approval they carry it
away with them, paying the mother a compensation.

"She has eleven of this description. She is rich.

"You think I am joking, romancing, exaggerating. No, my friend; I am
telling you the truth, the exact truth.

"Let us go and see this woman. Then I will tell you her history."

He took me into one of the suburbs. The woman lived in a pretty little
house by the side of the road. It was attractive and well kept. The
garden was filled with fragrant flowers. One might have supposed it to be
the residence of a retired lawyer.

A maid ushered us into a sort of little country parlor, and the wretch
appeared. She was about forty. She was a tall, big woman with hard
features, but well formed, vigorous and healthy, the true type of a
robust peasant woman, half animal, and half woman.

She was aware of her reputation and received everyone with a humility
that smacked of hatred.

"What do the gentlemen wish?" she asked.

"They tell me that your last child is just like an ordinary child, that
he does not resemble his brothers at all," replied my friend. "I wanted
to be sure of that. Is it true?"

She cast on us a malicious and furious look as she said:

"Oh, no, oh, no, my poor sir! He is perhaps even uglier than the rest. I
have no luck, no luck!

"They are all like that, it is heartbreaking! How can the good God be so
hard on a poor woman who is all alone in the world, how can He?" She
spoke hurriedly, her eyes cast down, with a deprecating air as of a wild
beast who is afraid. Her harsh voice became soft, and it seemed strange
to hear those tearful falsetto tones issuing from that big, bony frame,
of unusual strength and with coarse outlines, which seemed fitted for
violent action, and made to utter howls like a wolf.

"We should li