The Pocket Bible or Christian the Printer

here he purchased the letter of indulgence that absolved him in advance from all his future misdeeds. Hervé was, alas! true to his promise. Back long in advance of his father that evening

e over himself; finally, seeing her son respond with unexpected effusiveness to the affectionate greeting of his sister, Bridget said to herself, as Christian had done: "Let us hope; Hervé is returning to better

d the divine Raphael Sanzio. White as a lily, she had a lily's chaste splendor; candor and kindness stood out clear in the azure of her eyes. Often did those eyes rest upon that naughty yet so dearly beloved brother, of whom the poor child had feared she was disliked. Seated beside him, and engaged at some needle-work, she now felt herself, as in former days, filled with sweet confidence in Hervé, while the latter, once more affectionate and jovial as ever before, entertained himself pleasantly with his sister. By a tacit accord, neither made

er, thoughtfully, "your account interests me gr

tell; perhaps

? His beard is of a somewhat lighter hue than his auburn hair; his e

and could not notice the expression of surprise that Hervé

order to preserve so life-like a picture of him. But what induces you to believe that the

a touching action of which a monk was the author? Well, it struck me tha

is sister in short, set words, inspired by an ill-suppressed agonizing feeling of jealousy. The na?

ry inquisitive. First finish your s

ut, it seems to me, that you are no less so. Never mind, I shall accommodate you. Well, as I was saying, when passing this morning by the porch of St. Merry's Chur

ittle c

his breath the numb hands of the poor little waif, wrapped the baby carefully in one of the long sleeves of his robe, and disappeared as happy as if he carried away a

'-and he so

names and assumes the name of some saint-such as St. Peter-in-bonds, or St. Sebastia

y make one shudder. But the l

from Hena, "Brother St. Ernest-Martyr was hastily walking

monk will take the poor lit

Hena ingenuously; "I knew

nded the stairs and saw her son and daughter engaged in cordial conversation as w

atelle and her school? Do you

hn Dubourg, the linen draper of St. Denis Street, and to another rich bourgeois, Monsieur Laforge. They both generously sustain La Catelle and her sister Martha, the wife of Poille,

er reminiscences, "that when we went to the hous

oup of children who stood around him or sat at

a sheep, who clothe themselves in her fleece, and yet leave the poor beast without pasture.' He uttered upon that subject words i

onversation. "You can not imagine with what charming benignity the young monk instructed those little ones; he measured his words to their intelligence,

door from without inter

I prefer to see him indoors. I hardly think we shall see my brother this evening. The hour for supper is

pression of deliberate firmness. His black eyes, instinct with intelligence and fire, were set so close that they imparted a

t Monsieur John along for supper. He is an

m, Hena embraced her father affectionately; but Hervé, looking at him with a timid and repentant eye, seemed doubtful whether

her mother; my eldest son is, like myself, a printer in Monsieur Robert Estienne's workshop; my second son, who is apprenticed to an armorer

in an affectionate voice, while Hena and her brother arranged the covers a

hristian, "where

eneral appearance, which is not exactly attractive to sneaking night thieves," added Bridget with a smile. "Neither Tire-Laines nor Guilleris will be very

le, with Monsieur John placed between Chri

igns in this house, madam, that the ho

aughter, monsieur; order and cleanliness are the o

le: "It is a good and old motto-Holy simplicity. You will pardon me,

artisan, addressing his wife, "d

ess of his calls; formerly few were the days that he did not visit us; per

ldest friends; he teaches at the University. He is a rough and tough mountaineer from Savoy.

errupted by the following ditty that came from

pin had an a

worms, and all

made out of pa

the end with a

nette on vigno

nounces him!" said Hena joyfully,