This village street, with its white plaster houses and rows of poplar trees, was very picturesque. There was a yellow sunlight tipped over everything. Just as this little procession crossed the dusty road to enter the rectory gate, a big motor came purring along. In the tonneau were two ladies and a dear little girl; the latter had flying yellow curls.
"MR. SAGE . . . WAS WAVING A GREENBACK IN MONSIEUR TREMBLENT'S FACE"
"Pappa," she called, "see the big melon!" Now pappa was at the wheel, driving his own car. He was watching the road carefully; he had fears lest the little French girl might suddenly dart in front of the car; he had also observed Carleau, but the melon was the one thing in the foreground that he had missed; and, strange to say, a melon was the very thing these people had set out to find.
So, in the twinkling of an eye, the big car was brought to a full stop and Mr. Sage, its owner, was waving a greenback in Monsieur Tremblent's face.
Mr. Sage was naturally a silent man, his motto was "Money talks." Therefore he was somewhat amazed that the owner of the melon did not hand the fruit to him at once; and still more surprised was he to see Oisette Mary give one of her funny little bows and hear her say: "Pardon Monsieur, c'est pour Monsieur le Curé," and then she added in English "but there are many more chez moi."
The ladies laughed in chorus and repeated, "Many more at your house, then jump right in and show us the way."
"More as good as that one, eh?" asked Mr. Sage, as he opened the car door.
Monsieur Tremblent was dumb with surprise, he had been inclined to accept the offer and turn back to get another melon for the Curé, but Oisette won the day by jumping into the car. "I always have good luck," he told his priest afterward, "when I take the little one."
Those people not only bought three melons, but promised to come again.