do; and every month for a whole
year Mathurin come on his knees all de way to de church, but de Cure
say: 'Not yet are you forgive.' At de end of de year Mathurin he look so
thin, so white, you can blow through him. Every day he go to him school
and write on de blackboar', and mark on de slate, and call de roll of de
school. But dere is no answer, for dere is no children. But all de time
de wives of de men dat he have save, and de children, dey pray for him.
And by-and-by all de village pray for him, so sorry.

"It is so for two years; and den dey say dat Mathurin he go to die. He
cannot come on his knees to de church; and de men whose life he save,
dey come to de Cure and ask him to take de penance from Mathurin. De
Cure say: 'Wait till nex' Sunday.' So nex' Sunday Mathurin is carry to
de church--he is too weak to walk on his knees. De Cure he stan' at de
altar, and he read a letter from de Pope, which say dat Mathurin
his penance is over, and he is forgive; dat de Pope himself pray for
Mathurin, to save his soul. So Mathurin, all at once he stan' up, and
his face it smile and smile, and he stretch out his arms as if dey are
on a cross, and he say, 'Lord, I am ready to go,' and he fall down. But
de Cure catch him as he fall, and Mathurin say: 'De children--let dem
come to me dat I teach dem before I die.' And all de children in de
church dey come close to him, and he sit up and smile at dem, and he
say:

"'It is de class in 'rithmetic. How much is three times four?' And dem
all answer: 'T'ree times four is twelve.' And he say: 'May de Twelve
Apostles pray for me!' Den he ask: 'Class in geography--how far is it
roun' de world?' And dey answer: 'Twenty-four t'ousand miles.' He say:
'Good; it is not so far to God! De school is over all de time,' he say.
And dat is only everything of poor Mathurin. He is dead.

"When de Cure lay him down, after he make de Sign upon him, he kiss his
face and say: 'Mathurin, now you are a priest unto God.'"

That was Angele Rouvier's story of Mathurin, the Master of the School,
for whom the women and the children pray in the parish of Pontiac,
though the school has been dismissed these hundred years and more.

THE STORY OF THE LIME-BURNER

For a man in whose life there had been tragedy he was cheerful. He had
a habit of humming vague notes in the silence of conversation, as if
to put you at your ease. His body and face were lean and arid, his eyes
oblique and small, his hair stra