been had I not had sense enough to put the
chestnuts in the fire as soon as it was lighted? That is the way we
always do in the fields."

"So we are going to take supper together, little Marie. I want to
drink your health and wish you a good husband, just the sort of a man
that will suit you. Tell me what kind you want."

"I should find that very difficult, Germain, for I have not thought
about it yet."

"What, not at all? Never?" said Germain, as he began to eat with a
laborer's appetite, yet stopping to cut off the more tender morsels for
his companion, who persisted in refusing them and contented herself with
a few chestnuts.

"Tell me, little Marie," he went on, seeing that she had no intention
of answering him, "have you never thought of marrying? Yet you are old
enough?"

"Perhaps," she said, "but I am too poor. I need at least a hundred
crowns to marry, and I must work five or six years to scrape them
together."

"Poor girl, I wish Father Maurice were willing to give me a hundred
crowns to make you a present of."

"Thank you kindly, Germain. What do you suppose people would say of me?"

"What do you wish them to say of you? They know very well that I am too
old to marry you. They would never believe that I--that you--"

"Look, Germain, your child is waking up," said little Marie.

VIII -- The Evening Prayer

PETIT-PIERRE had raised his head and was looking about him with a
thoughtful air.

"Oh, that is the way he always does, whenever he hears the sound of
eating," said Germain. "The explosion of a cannon would not rouse him,
but if you work your jaws near him, he opens his eyes at once."

"You must have been just like him at his age," said little Marie, with
a sly smile. "See! my Petit-Pierre, you are looking for your canopy.
To-night it is made all of green, my child; but your father eats his
supper none the less. Do you wish to sup with him? I have not eaten your
share; I thought that you might claim it."

"Marie, I wish you to eat," cried the husbandman; "I shall not touch
another morsel. I am a greedy glutton. You are depriving yourself for
our sake. It is not fair. I am ashamed. It takes away all my appetite. I
will not have my son eat his supper unless you take some too."

"Leave us alone," said little Marie; "you have not the key to our
appetites. Mine is tight shut to-day, but your Pierre's is as wide open
as a little wolfs. Just see how he seizes his food. He will be a strong
w