Yet in
the face there was an illusive sadness, strangely out of keeping with the
long linen coat, frilled shirt, flowered waistcoat, lavender trousers,
boots of enamelled leather, and straw hat with white linen streamers. It
was a whimsical picture.
At the moment that the Cure and Medallion the auctioneer came down the
street together towards the Louis Quinze, talking amiably, this singular
gentleman was throwing out hot pennies, with a large spoon, from a tray
in his hand, calling on the children to gather them, in French which was
not the French of Pontiac--or Quebec; and this refined accent the Cure
was quick to detect, as Monsieur Garon the avocat, standing on the
outskirts of the crowd, had done, some moments before. The stranger
seemed only conscious of his act of liberality and the children before
him. There was a naturalness in his enjoyment which was almost boylike;
a naive sort of exultation possessed him.
He laughed softly to see the children toss the pennies from hand to hand,
blowing to cool them; the riotous yet half-timorous scramble for them,
and burnt fingers thrust into hot, blithe mouths. And when he saw a fat
little lad of five crowded out of the way by his elders, he stepped down
with a quick word of sympathy, put a half-dozen pennies in the child's
pocket, snatched him up and kissed him, and then returned to the stoop,
where were gathered the landlord, the miller, and Monsieur De la Riviere,
the young Seigneur.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25