Red Caps and Lilies

ea

then "Jean," and the third time there was a note in her voice which meant, "If you know what's best for you, you'd b

Barbette shaded her eyes from the hot noon sunshine and looked off across the deep green of grass and trees. The

ther Barbette's black eyes twinkled mischievously as she spoke. "When I went u

oy came into view. He was covered with grass from head to foot. It stuck to his frayed, yellow trousers and had crept down the collar of his black blouse. It tickled his nose, and he blinked his eyes for it was even wound into his

." He caught at her apron and pulled it. "Was there n

" Mother Barbette c

Petite Mère. Tell me,

was small for his thirteen years

coming!" His mothe

st at the same time, so that a

e Josephine I would hear. Tell me, i

e

w himself down upon the mound of grass from which he had emerged and flung his broad, torn straw hat up in the a

hold are to come. There will only be the cook and scullery servants, an upstairs maid or two, and two men servants at Les Vignes-no state, no ceremony, no gaiety of any kind. The messenger who brought the news says that some of the Paris servants have left, and others are going. He says that they are storming the Tuileries palace-the people I mean, thousands of them. Madame la Comtess

that we are away from the towns. We are better off, he says, just to be here by ourselves in the valley, but we are bad enough off, some of us!" Mother Barbette sighed as she went over to her white wood table which, having been freshly s

mother's tones, and foll

say, Petite M

he cherry tart that the kind Nannette at the big house made for me on my birthday. Run now with this bread

nd started slowly toward the door. He knew that it would not do to trifle with his mother that day, but there was nothing he

ery day, and goat's milk too. It is only because of the kindness of the old Comte Saint Frère, who left in his will the word that you and I were to have our maintenance here in the cottage, that

fine old comte had never starved the peasants working for him, or laughed at their misery. The young Comte Lisle, too, had something gallant and lovable about him, in spite of the proud way he held his head. Mother Barbette sighed again, but soon she remembered that she had no time to stand and dream, and immediately began to busy herself about the cottage, humming the while. After giving a stir

way to the great house, which loomed grimly against the sunset-tinted sky. The gamekeeper's lodge was near the house, and so it was only a walk of a few minutes. There had not been another gamekeeper since her Jean had been killed, for the old comte had died and the young Comte Lisle was too young for hunting. Louise

clear, high call and then he would stop and listen. Once there was an answering call an

ught, and began to sing: "Tra la la, tra la la! They'll be here the day after to

estate. He was never allowed to go in and out that way. He climbed the paling and ran across a field until he came to a dusty highway. He shuffled along the road, enjoying the thick clouds of dust that he raised about him. Little Mademoiselle would be coming in two days! He was on his way to his cousins-that was the only bit of blackness on his horizon. His cousins live

in that he seemed nothing but bones and eyes. He snatched one of the loaves of bread from under Jean's arm and began eating it, tearing at the end of it with hi

he hut. Jean turned around only to find his two younger cousins and the children next door fighting for the second loaf. He knew that there was nothing he could do to separate them or reason with them and so, having brought the bread, he could onl

live with the gentry. You think you are a

ouds floated in the sky, the air was full of the scent of the warm earth and cool wind. Jean began to run. He ran on faster and

t he had not wanted to take them the bread. His mother's cottage came into view as he reached the clearing in the wood. Mother Barbette was sitting o

Mère, because the lark answered when I

e bowl. There is a piece of bread on the table. You may eat it with your soup he

etite Mère," Jean answered, bringing his porringe

ead, for he was very hungry. When he was finished he went in

re. I want more bread," he co

. Perhaps when the Little Mademoiselle comes she will give

and he leaned against

o our favorite spot near the sundial. I love it best of all, Petite Mère. It is all dark and woodsy and then there is suddenly the open clearing and the sundial!" Jean began to h

s from Provence marched all the way to Paris! Jacques left while they were storming the king's palace! What times! What days!" Mo

dded vi

lost for four days. They tore the bread to bits and all the other

d her knitting in her

e. He snatched a whole loaf for himself and h

mill for so little a pittance; it is no wonder that they starve

de a dash at Pince Nez who had alighted on the back of Mother Barbette's chair. Then he ran with a whoop down the little box-bordered path, through a hedgelike

not stop running until he had come up to them. Some one was walking beside th

Vignes, the Little Mademoiselle and

smiled a slow

the runner. They are coming, but the young Comte

d. They were great friends and it was

d the others. I do not like Grigge. Why do you take your time to teach hi

paused at Jean's words, uttering no reproach, but looking off across the field to where a delicate mist mingle

s Dian's answer as he w