Eh bien, chu jour là is’en furent derriere le prinseux, trav’sirent le belle, et, j’n’ments pouint, j’ cré qui passirent par d’sous l’us. Mais terjous, que j’aie tort ou raison, ni Collas ni sa femme n’out peux me r’gardaïr en fache d’pis chu jour-là.
Jamais n’ou ne me fra craire que g’nia point bien de qué que nous n’serait expliquer. J’en ai ouï d’bien des sortes d’pis m’en jâne temps. Jai souvent ouï la raeue du prinseux tournaï a mignet que g’niavait fils d’âme par dehors; j’ai vaeux not’ cat aquand i’ ventait gros assis l’ dos tournaï au faeu, guettant l’us et la f’nêtre coum si s’attendait à véer quiq’un entraïr, et parfais i poussait de drôles de cris, j’vous en reponds, et not t’chen s’mauchaï derriere ma caire quand j’disais mes perières, parfais i’ braq’tait dans s’en dormir coum s’il’ tait a s’battre d’auve d’autres t’chens; o’ch’est m’n avis que des câts et des t’chens vés l’s affaires d’une autre manière que nous, et j’cré que ch’est grand piti que tous cheux qui s’dementent de changier de forme n’aient affaire à yeux.”
Un Luron.
A story of the good old times.
An honest man and his wife had formerly a little farm in the neighbourhood of Vazon; Collas Roussel and his wife, Nancy Guille, were quiet people, who did their best to bring up their family properly, but they were noted for being able to change their forms at will.
One fine summer’s evening people saw a fine hare in the rectory garden, which was dancing round a cow which was tethered there.
The cow began to look at the hare, who at once rose up on his hind legs, gambolling as if he wished to invite the cow to dance with him. The people did not know what to think or what it could all mean. Some said that it was either Collas Roussel or his wife, others thought it would be better to fire at it, and the others finally said that the cow’s milk would be spoilt and that she would never be worth slaughtering.
The clerk, Pierre Simon, who was there by chance, crept quietly near the hare, caught it, and began to rub up its fur the wrong way. Some cried out to him to wring its neck, others to break its legs, “and then we will see very quickly whether it is Collas Roussel or his wife or no.” Some said that they had seen the hare come straight from Vazon, but that it had had the artfulness to take a circuitous route. Other neighbours advised that the first milk the cow should give after this should be taken, and put to boil on a good vraic fire, and that one would soon see Collas Roussel and his old woman come and ask for a cup of boiled milk. That was the best way of finding them out. Pierre Simon was much blamed by all the country side for having allowed the beast to escape, but he said, as an excuse, that hares were subject to headaches as much as other people and it was for that that he had rubbed it. He liked hare soup as well as anyone, but that it would not have been right of him to take advantage of the poor beast.
The good old herdsman in talking over the affair said: “I would not speak ill of anyone, be it creature, man, or horse, but I have my own ideas on the subject of Collas Roussel and his wife. Last year as I was moving our cattle early in the morning, what should I see but two fine hares nibbling my rye grass. I made a noise, and they ran off towards Vazon, and one morning I cried out “You should be ashamed of yourself, Collas.”
Well, on that day they went behind the cider press, crossed the court-yard, and, I am not lying, I believe that they passed under the door. But ever since, whether I am wrong or right, neither Collas or his wife, have been able to look me in the face.