gh the night the whole way to his
father's house. He went along by the side of the croft just as the sun
rose, and caught sight of the old "bear's" face under an almond-tree
that grew out of the hedge.

"Good day, father," called David.

"Why, is it you, my boy? How come you to be out on the road at this time
of day? There is your way in," he added, pointing to a little wicket
gate. "My vines have flowered and not a shoot has been frosted. There
will be twenty puncheons or more to the acre this year; but then look at
all the dung that has been put on the land!"

"Father, I have come on important business."

"Very well; how are your presses doing? You must be making heaps of
money as big as yourself."

"I shall some day, father, but I am not very well off just now."

"They all tell me that I ought not to put on so much manure," replied
his father. "The gentry, that is M. le Marquis, M. le Comte, and
Monsieur What-do-you-call-'em, say that I am letting down the quality of
the wine. What is the good of book-learning except to muddle your wits?
Just you listen: these gentlemen get seven, or sometimes eight puncheons
of wine to the acre, and they sell them for sixty francs apiece, that
means four hundred francs per acre at most in a good year. Now, I make
twenty puncheons, and get thirty francs apiece for them--that is six
hundred francs! And where are they, the fools? Quality, quality, what
is quality to me? They can keep their quality for themselves, these Lord
Marquises. Quality means hard cash for me, that is what it means, You
were saying?----"

"I am going to be married, father, and I have come to ask for----"

"Ask me for what? Nothing of the sort, my boy. Marry; I give you my
consent, but as for giving you anything else, I haven't a penny to bless
myself with. Dressing the soil is the ruin of me. These two years I
have been paying money out of pocket for top-dressing, and taxes, and
expenses of all kinds; Government eats up everything, nearly all the
profit goes to the Government. The poor growers have made nothing these
last two seasons. This year things don't look so bad; and, of course,
the beggarly puncheons have gone up to eleven francs already. We work to
put money into the coopers' pockets. Why, are you going to marry before
the vintage?----"

"I only came to ask for your consent, father."

"Oh! that is another thing. And who is the victim, if one may ask?"

"I am going to marry Mlle. Eve Chardon.