Nine was striking on the town clock as we reached Béyant, no distance at all, but we had the manners to pause just a second at the bridge and speak to Fétu, Gadin, and Trinquet, who were sitting on the parapet watching the water--by way of beginning their working day. We had a moment’s chat about nothing in particular, and then went on our way like steady responsible workmen, straight on, saying nothing to anybody, because, for one thing, there was no one on the road; but being persons of taste, we appreciated the beauties of nature, admiring the sky, the fresh spring verdure, a blooming apple-tree under the walls, the flight of a swallow, with some talk about the weather and the direction of the wind. All at once I remembered that I had not seen my little Glodie the whole morning, so I told my men to go on ahead, I would catch up with them at Rion’s. When I got to Martine’s I found her down on her knees scrubbing the shop, her tongue going like a mill-race, talking to her husband, to his apprentice, to Glodie, to every one else within hearing, in the highest of spirits, and the floor being done, she flung the dirty water into the street, and hit me fair on the legs, where I was standing just outside the door admiring her,--there is no use denying it, she is the light of my eyes. Of course we both laughed louder than ever; she made a real picture, with her dark hair all tousled over her bright eyes and thick eyebrows, her lips as red as ripe plums, and her plump neck and arms, and her skirts tucked up just as far as need be. “I hope you got it all, Father Noah?” “Every drop, but I don’t mind that, as long as I am not obliged to drink it.” In I went and kissed my little Glodie, who was sitting under the counter to be out of the wet. “I bet I know what brought you here so early in the morning,” said Martine. “You knew the reason before you were born,” was my answer. “You mean Mother?” “Who else?” “Men are such cowards!” Florimond heard the last word, just as he was coming in, and drew himself up, thinking it was meant for him. “No offense,” said I, “she was talking to me.” “If the cap fits put it on!” said my daughter. Florimond always stands a good deal on his dignity and hates to be laughed at; besides he is apt to be suspicious of Martine and me when we get together, and fancies, sometimes with some reason, that we are making him the butt of our jokes, so I said innocently, “You know well enough, Martine, that Florimond is master in his own house, not like your poor old father, who always let himself be put upon; you inherit your docile submissive nature from me, my child.”