Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1904-10-27

An English gentleman?'
"Jeao-Renaud thinks So because he
certainly is not French"
But what did he look like?'
Handsome. Helm His hair curls,
it's very blond--and his eyesl Ciel!
Blue. blue like the sea, mademoiselle,
and his cheeks red
Mon Dieui Quel beau chevalier!
You must be in love with him, Jo-
sette,"
mo, mademoiselle' Nay. tits not for
the likes of me"
True, true" said the young chate-
laine gravely. "He is a noble knight,
doubtless He had red cheeks, you
say?"
Eyes, mademoiselle."
Not like my pale ones, suppose;
but then the English always were
gross and red in the cheek"
But. mademoiselle--'
That will do. Josette, you weary
me with this stranger. Did you bring
the new dols?"
Here they are. mademoisele," said
the faithful Josette. producing two
deliberately dressed Partisan dolls from
beneath her apron. They came by
special messenger from Paris last night
after you had retired"
"Oh." exclaimed the young girl.
rapturously. "how beautiful they are!
| thought had ahoNt done with dolls.
but these are so lovely. What grand
danes they are, Give them 10 me- Jo-
settle"
How kind of Monsieur lie Marquis,
mademoiselle," answered the maid,
who was also the foster sister and
youthful confidante OF the countess, as
she handed her the two dolls.
ooh, do you know" said the caprice
ious little maiden. eth ese are beautiful
dolls, but don't believe like them
after all as much as old Toto"
II brought her along, too" returned
Josette. producing her from pocket
in her dress. 81 thought you might
want her, mademoiselle."
/ "Oh, give her to me-" exclaimed the
young mother, extending her hand to
take the old rag affair II am tired OF
walking and talking. Josette. You are
so very embarrassing this morning.
You can't speak Of anything but that
Englishman, Let's sit down here I'M
der this beech-tree and sing the dolls
10 sleep You take the two from
Paris Well play they're twins, and
| will take poor old Toto. She shall
not be neglected for the beautiful Ia
dies from the city, shall She? Poor
old Toto! shall never have any
more dolls. Josette. certainly am
too old for them II II were real
baby, now, or knight" continued
this small bundle Of Inconsistencies,
"how would love it! But that is not
to be. Helas Josette! Come let Us
put them to sleep"
But mademoiselle. It's early morn
ing" responded the unimagin alive
peasant.
Stupid, We can play it's night.
can't we? Besides, it's always good
for children to take nap. Grand
father says, the more sleepy the eye In
the daytime the brighter the eye at
night You sit there and | will sit
here. Now, sing"
The two children, with that delight
full Indifference TO rank and station
which constitutes one OF the charms
of childhood, sat down on rustic
bench under a handsome old beech
tree Though both were about the
same age, just entering their teens
! Josette. who was the younger, would
! have made two of her young mistress.
She had already reached her growth,
apparently, for she was tail and large,
and her splendid physical develop
ment was well set off by the pictur-
esoue dress OF the Breton peasantry.
Her mistress, on the contrary, was
small. slender, fragile undeveloped
and physically as much behind her
maid as mentally she was her supe-
rior A greater contrast between them
could not have been imagined.
What shall We sing. mademoi-
! seller" asked Josette. Shall it be
The Fox Gallant"
mo, wen sing Toutouie, la. La"
Every we'll, will you begin"
/ mo, YOU"
Every we'll. Are you ready?"
YES"
so. then"
Humming the air for a moment the
two voices broke into the plantive
melody of an old Breton cradle song,
the refrain OF which gave il title.
In default OF rocking-chair-not
then Indigenous to France-the two
bodies swayed back and forth in time
to the simple lullaby, or berceuse. the
wooden sabots on one pair OF large
though shapoly feet patting the ground
in time with the dainty jewel-bucklcd
Louis Quin2e slippers upon the other
The words were primitive and childish
as BELTS folk song at its best. and
more especially at its beginning in
the cradle song. and the music was
equally SO; yet the emphatic word was
repeated at the end OF each verse W
q long drawn cadence. and the lC,
touie, la, la! rose above the branches
with caressing intonation which a
mother might have used to child
The gentle Air Of the summer morn
ing rustled he leaves OF the old beech
Tree in "A not inharmonious accom-
paniment to the melody and swept the
sound into the dull ear OF drowsy
man. Philip Grafton had forgotten