at the town-hall, who sharpened his pocket-knife on his boots and was
famous for his penmanship.

When the weather was fine, they went to Geffosses. The house was built
in the centre of the sloping yard; and the sea looked like a grey spot
in the distance. Felicite would take slices of cold meat from the lunch
basket and they would sit down and eat in a room next to the dairy. This
room was all that remained of a cottage that had been torn down.
The dilapidated wall-paper trembled in the drafts. Madame Aubain,
overwhelmed by recollections, would hang her head, while the children
were afraid to open their mouths. Then, "Why don't you go and play?"
their mother would say; and they would scamper off.

Paul would go to the old barn, catch birds, throw stones into the pond,
or pound the trunks of the trees with a stick till they resounded like
drums. Virginia would feed the rabbits and run to pick the wild flowers
in the fields, and her flying legs would disclose her little embroidered
pantalettes. One autumn evening, they struck out for home through the
meadows. The new moon illumined part of the sky and a mist hovered like
a veil over the sinuosities of the river. Oxen, lying in the pastures,
gazed mildly at the passing persons. In the third field, however,
several of them got up and surrounded them. "Don't be afraid," cried
Felicite; and murmuring a sort of lament she passed her hand over the
back of the nearest ox; he turned away and the others followed. But when
they came to the next pasture, they heard frightful bellowing.

It was a bull which was hidden from them by the fog. He advanced towards
the two women, and Madame Aubain prepared to flee for her life. "No,
no! not so fast," warned Felicite. Still they hurried on, for they could
hear the noisy breathing of the bull behind them. His hoofs pounded the