as she sees all that goes on, she is satisfied. Now she is out of humor and seems to say, 'Rude people, be off with your presents. Do you think if I wanted your cakes I could not pick them up in your very houses? There is no fun in eating things that are given to you; stolen dainties are the only ones I relish.'
"Grandad, why do they give her pancakes all tied up with ribbons? Why do they bring good-wishes to that old pilferer?"
"Because, darling, in this world it is better to be on good terms with evildoers."
"What's that, Colas Breugnon? What idea are you putting in the child's head?" growled the vicar.
"I am not holding it up for her admiration. I only tell her that is what every one does, you yourself, vicar, among the first. Don't stare at me like that, you know when you have a parishioner who knows everything, sees everything, pokes her nose into everything, and is as full of spite as a nut is full of meat you would stuff her mouth with cakes, if that would keep her quiet."
"Lord, if that were enough," sighed the vicar. "I am really not fair to old magpie, she is better than some women, and her tongue is sometimes of use!"
"What is it good for, Grandfather?"
