"Oh, that is what we call drunkards round here. The name comes from an
old story which has now become a legend, although it is true in all
respects."

"Is it an amusing story?"

"Very amusing."

"Well, then, tell it to me."

"I will."

There lived formerly in this town a very upright old lady who was a great
guardian of morals and was called Mme. Husson. You know, I am telling you
the real names and not imaginary ones. Mme. Husson took a special
interest in good works, in helping the poor and encouraging the
deserving. She was a little woman with a quick walk and wore a black wig.
She was ceremonious, polite, on very good terms with the Almighty in the
person of Abby Malon, and had a profound horror, an inborn horror of
vice, and, in particular, of the vice the Church calls lasciviousness.
Any irregularity before marriage made her furious, exasperated her till
she was beside herself.

Now, this was the period when they presented a prize as a reward of
virtue to any girl in the environs of Paris who was found to be chaste.
She was called a Rosiere, and Mme. Husson got the idea that she would
institute a similar ceremony at Gisors. She spoke about it to Abbe Malon,
who at once made out a list of candidates.