There's a little dispute with a merchant of fruit
Who is said to be heterodox,
That will ended be with a "Ma foi, oui!"
And a pinch from the Curé's box.
There is also a word that no one heard
To the furrier's daughter Lou;
And a pale cheek fed with a flickering red,
And a "Bon Dieu garde M'sieu!"
But a grander way for the Sous-Préfet,
And a bow for Ma'am'selle Anne;
And a mock "off-hat" to the Notary's cat,
And a nod to the Sacristan:—
For ever through life the Curé goes
With a smile on his kind old face—
With his coat worn bare, and his straggling hair.
And his green umbrella-case.
"GOOD-NIGHT, BABETTE"
"Si vieillesse pouvait!"
Scene.—A small neat room. In a high Voltaire chair sits a white-haired old gentleman.
M. VIEUXBOIS [turning querulously]