p, and what rewards
they prepare for those who are so busy with their work and play that
they forget who may be watching their back windows with clearer eyes and
truer charity than any inquisitive old lady with a pen in her hand?

_LITTLE MARIE OF LEHON._

'Here comes our pretty little girl,' I said to Kate, as we sat resting
on the seat beside the footpath that leads from Dinan on the hill to
Lehon in the valley.

Yes, there she was, trotting toward us in her round cap, blue woollen
gown, white apron, and wooden shoes. On her head was a loaf of buckwheat
bread as big as a small wheel, in one hand a basket full of green stuff,
while the other led an old goat, who seemed in no hurry to get home. We
had often seen this rosy, bright-eyed child, had nodded to her, but
never spoken, for she looked rather shy, and always seemed in haste. Now
the sight of the goat reminded us of an excuse for addressing her, and
as she was about to pass with the respectful little curtsey of the
country, my friend said in French:--

'Stay please. I want to speak to you.' She stopped at once and stood
looking at us under her long eyelashes in a timid yet confiding way,
very pretty to see.

'We want to drink goat's milk every morning: can you let us have it,
little one?'

'Oh, yes, mademoiselle! Nannette gives fine milk, and no one has yet
engaged her,' answered the child, her whole face brightening at the
prospect.

'What name have you?'

'Marie Rosier, mademoiselle.'

'And you live at Lehon?'

'Yes, mademoiselle.'

'Have you parents?'

'Truly, yes, of the best. My father has a loom, my mother works in the
field and mill with brother Yvon, and I go to school and care for
Nannette and nurse little Bebe.'

'What school?'

'At the convent, mademoiselle. The good sisters teach us the catechism,
also to write and read and sew. I like it much,' and Marie glanced at
the little prayer in her apron pocket, as if proud to show she could
read it.

'What age have you?'

'Ten years, mademoiselle.'

'You are young to do so much, for we often see you in the market buying
and selling, and sometimes digging in your garden there below, and
bringing water from the river. Do you love work as well as school?'

'Ah, no; but mademoiselle knows it is necessary to work: every one does,
and I'm glad to do my part. Yvon works much harder than I, and the
father sits all day at his loom, yet he is sick and suffers much. Yes, I
am truly gla