attack her too hardly, as he is the patroness of men of letters, and
serves as a signboard to the bookshop of that good M. Blaizot, which
is the most delectable abode in this world."

"I also had," continued quickly the little friar, "a rib of St Mary
the Egyptian."

"Ah! Ah!'" shouted the priest, throwing the chicken bone across the
room, "concerning this one, I do consider her to be very, very holy,
as during her lifetime she gave a fine example of humility."

"You know, madam," he said and took mother's sleeve, "that St Mary
the Egyptian, going on pilgrimage to the sepulchre of our Lord, was
stopped by a deep flowing river, and not possessing a single
farthing to pay for the passage on the ferry-boat she offered to the
boatmen her own body as a payment. What do you say to that, my good
mistress?"

First of all my mother asked if the story was quite true. After she
had been assured that the matter had been printed in a book and
painted on a stained window in the Church of La Jussienne she
believed it.

"I think," she said, "that one has to be as holy as she was to do
the like without committing a sin. I must say that I should not like
to do it."

"As far as I am concerned," said the priest, "I approve of the
conduct of that saint, quite in accord with the most subtle doctors.
It is a lesson for honest women stubborn in too much pride of their