WHEN HE WAS A LITTLE BOY HENRI LAVEDAN 1639 A GENTLEMAN FINDS A WATCH GEORGES COURTELINE 1651 A YOUNG GIRL'S DIARY MARCEL PRÉVOST 1659 THE SIGN OF THE KEY AND THE CROSS HENRI DE RÉGNIER 1671 THE TELEGRAPH OPERATOR ALPHONSE ALLAIS 1685 LA BRETONNE BY CLAUDE ADHÉMAR ANDRÉ THEURIET [Illustration] _André Theuriet, born at Marly-le-Roi in 1833, went to Paris to study law, and finally became head of the Government Department of Finance. In 1857 appeared the charming collection of verses called "Chemin des Bois," which was crowned by the Academy, and which earned for the author the title of "Song Sparrow" from the great critic Sainte-Beuve._ _Theuriet received, in 1890, the Vitel prize from the Academy for general literary excellence, and was admitted to that body in 1896. His style is sane, fresh, limpid, delicate, and rich in color. He is a lover of nature with a profound feeling for the peasant._ _Theuriet's standing is well assured when we consider that such men as Jules Claretie, Adolph Brisson, François Coppée, all contributed appreciations of Theuriet in "Les Annales Politiques et Littéraires," soon after his death, on April 23, 1907._ [Illustration] LA BRETONNE BY ANDRÉ THEURIET Translated by B. C. Waggener. Copyright, 1891, by The Current Literature Publishing Company. One November evening, the eve of Sainte-Catherine's Day, the gate of the Auberive prison turned upon its hinges to allow to pass out a woman of some thirty years, clad in a faded woolen gown and coiffed in a linen cap that framed in a singular fashion a face pale and puffed by that sickly-hued fat which develops on prison regimen. She was a prisoner whom they had just liberated, and whom her companions of detention called La Bretonne. Condemned for infanticide, it was exactly, day for day, six years ago that the prison van had brought her to the Centrale. Now, in her former garb, and with her small stock of money received from the clerk in her pocket, she found herself free and with her roadpass stamped for Langres. The courier for Langres, however, had long since gone. Cowed and awkward, she took her way stumblingly toward the chief inn of the borough, and with trembling voice asked shelter for the night. But the inn was crowded, and the _aubergiste_, who did not care to harbor "one of those birds from over yonder," counseled her to push on to the _cabaret_ at the far end of the village.