"Sure! I was sung to sleep in my cradle with it. It starts this way:
"When little John led his sheep out to pasture,
He then little thought that a priest he would be."
"Well, Jeanike, I am like little John. When I was at Vannes I little dreamed of what I was to see in Paris."
"And what do you find so startling in Paris, Gildas?"
"Everything, Jeanike."
"Indeed!"
"And a good many other things, besides!"
"That's a good many."
"Now listen. Mother said to me: 'Gildas, Monsieur Lebrenn, our countryman, to whom I sell the linen that we weave in the evenings, takes you as an assistant in his shop. His is a home of the good God. You, who are neither bold nor venturesome, will find yourself there as comfortable as here in our little town. St. Denis Street in Paris, where your employer lives, is a street inhabited only by honest and peaceful merchants.' Well, now, Jeanike, no later than yesterday evening, the second day after my arrival, did you not hear cries of: 'Close the shops! Close the shops!' And did you not thereupon see the night-patrols, and hear the drums and the hurried steps of large numbers of men who came and went tumultuously? There were among them some whose faces were frightful to behold, with their long beards. I positively dreamed of them, Jeanike! I did!"
"Poor Gildas!"