The yellow book: an illustrated quarterly (3.1894)

2l6

Jeanne-Marie
faced butcher, with a chuckle, as he puffed at his long pipe.
"You see, he is anxious we should think her of an age suitable,
before he tells us the betrothals are arranged."
"For my part I should give many congratulations," said the
village postman and tobacconist, gruffly. "Jeanne-Marie is worth
any of our girls of the village, with their bright dresses and silly
giggles."
Bourdet laughed. "You shall come to the wedding, my
friends," he said, with a wink and a nod of the head to the
retreating figure ; " and since our friend Minaud there finds the
girls so distasteful, he shall wait till our babies are old enough, and
be betrothed to one of them."
The postmaster laughed with the rest. "But seriously," he
said, "Bourdet will pardon me if I tell him our Jeanne-Marie is a
good deal past the thirties."
Laurent, the good-looking young farmer, who stood leaning
against the tree round which their chairs were gathered, answered
him gravely. "Wait, till you see her on Sunday
coming from Mass on M. Bourdet's arm ; the cap that hides the
grey knot of hair at the back of the head is neat and bright—oh !
so bright—pink or blue for choice, and if M. Bourdet chances
to compliment the colour of the stockings—he is gay, you know,
always—the yellow face turns rosy and all the wrinkles go."
And laughing maliciously at Bourdet, the young fellow turned
away homewards.
Bourdet looked grave. "'Tis your son-in-law that speaks like
that, Minaud," he said, "otherwise I would say that in my day
the young fellows found it better to amuse themselves with the
young girls than to mock at the old ones."
"You are right, my friend," said Minaud. "'Tis the regiment
that taught Laurent this, and many other things. But it is a