"It seems to me," said Jules, "that Madame Lestin must have had a mighty dread of cross-eyed children if she could not be content to present her dear husband with one even after twenty years of married life. Evidently she was a thoughtful and easy-going woman, who took her time about whatever she was going to do." José shook his head with a dubious air and continued: "'Well,' thought Larouche to himself, 'though bad folk go about the country putting spells on people, I have never heard of saints wandering around Canada to work miracles. After all, it is no business of mine. I won't say a word about it, and we'll see next spring.' "About that time the next year Davy, very much ashamed of himself, got up secretly, long before daylight, to take his tithes to the priest. He had no need of horse or sleigh. He carried the whole thing in his handkerchief. "As the sun was rising he once more met the stranger, who said to him: "'Peace be with you, my brother!' "'Never was wish more appropriate,' answered Larouche, 'for I believe the devil himself has got into my house, and is kicking up his pranks there day and night. My wife scolds me to death from morn till eve, my children sulk when they are not doing worse, and all my neighbors are set against me.' "'I am very sorry to hear it,' said the traveler, 'but what are you carrying in that little parcel?' "'My tithes,' answered Larouche, with an air of chagrin. "'It seems to me, however,' said the stranger, 'that you have been having just the weather you asked for.' "'I acknowledge it,' said Davy. 'When I asked for sunshine, I had it; when I wanted rain, wind, calm weather, I got them; yet nothing has succeeded with me. The sun burned up the grain, the rain caused it to rot, the wind beat it down, the calm brought the night frosts. My neighbors are all bitter against me; they regard me as a sorcerer, who has brought a curse on their harvests. My wife began by distrusting me, and has ended by heaping me with reproaches. In a word, it is enough to drive one crazy.' "'Which proves to you, my brother,' said the traveler, 'that your wish was a foolish one; that one must always trust to the providence of God, who knows what is good for man better than man can know it for himself. Put your trust in him, and you will not have to endure the humiliation of having to carry your tithes in a handkerchief.' "With these words, the stranger again disappeared around the hill. "Larouche took the hint, and thenceforth acknowledged God's providence, without wishing to meddle with the weather." As José brought his tale to an end, Archie said: "I like exceedingly the simplicity of this legend. It has a lofty moral, and at the same time it displays the vivid faith of the _habitants_ of New France. Shame on the heartless philosopher who would deprive them of that whence they derive so many a consolation in the trials of life!