"Well, an' is dat not somet'ing unusual--w'en a widow is _sure_ she will not love again? Dey often _t'ink_ so, _mais_ she was _absolutely sure_! You see, her first husband he was one hero; he fell on de same battle-field wid gallant 'Jeb' Stuart--from a stray shot w'en de fighting was over, carrying dat poor _imbecile_, Philippe Delmaire, off de fiel', biccause he was yelling so, wid dat one li'l' toe he los'! A good fellow, yas, _mais no account_! Yas, he drank himself to deat', all on account for de loss of dat toe, so he say. Excuses dey are cheap, yas. If it was not his toe it would have been somet'ing else. You know, his figure, it was really perfection, no _mis_take, an' to lose perfection, even in so small a matter as one toe--it prey on his mind. Tell de trut', I used to feel sorry for him, an'--an'--w'en he always would touch his glass an' drink dat favorite toast, 'To my big toe!' well, dere was somet'ing pitiful in it. I used to drink it wid him. It was no harm, an' he had always good wine, poor fellow. _Mais to t'ink of Paul de La Rose dying for him!_ It make me mad, yet w'en I t'ink so, I am almos' sorry to reflect I have drunk to his toe! Bah--a valu'ble man--to die like dat! Wat you say? Yas, da's true. It makes not _how_ de soldier fall--de glory is de same. Well, any'ow, if he could have picked out a successor, he could not have done better dan yo'ng Le Duc--sure! W'at you say? '_'Ow_ is he bought doze plantation twice?' Well, dis way: W'en he had to take dem on mortgage, an' dey were sold at de door of de court-house--bidding against him, understand--no rainy-day sale--he paid _double_--I mean to say he paid so much as de mortagage _again_. Not in every case, _mais_ in many--to widows. I know two cousin of mine, he paid dem so. I ricollec' dey tol' me dat he was de mos' remembering man to look out for dem, an' de mos' forgetting to sen' de bills. "Oh, yas. An' his daughter, dey say she is in love to her stepmother--an' she is jus' so foolish about de chil'--an' wid good reason. She had never children--an' she is proud for dat daughter, an' jealous, too, of dose Yankee _ril_lation. Still, she _in_vite dem to come every year, so the chil' can stay--an' now, would you believe it? Dey are come to be great friends, _mais_, of co'se, her father sends her every year at Boston to her grandmother. Dey all want her, an' no wonder. If she was one mud fence, I suppose it would be all de same, _mais_ you know, she is _one great beauty_! I say one gr-r-r-reat beauty! Wh! An'w'en I whistle so 'wh!' I mean w'at I say. You see me so, I am one ol' man, now--pas' forty--an' rich in children, an' not bad-looking children, neither; _mais_ I would walk, me, all de way from de barracks up to Bouligny, _an' back_, just to see her pass in de street an' smile on me. You take my word, _if_ she is not snapped up by some school-boy, she can marry _anyt'ing_--_a coronet_! An' I know somet'ing about women--not to brag."