The Story of a Wheaten Cake
"Oh, you must tell us that story, my good Mahiette," said Gervaise, taking her arm.
"Willingly," returned Mahiette, "but it is very evident that you have lived in Paris not to know it ! Well, you must know — but there is no need for us to stand still while I tell you the story — that Paquette la Chantefleurie was a pretty girl of eighteen when I too was one—that is to say, eighteen years ago — and has had only herself to blame if she's not, like me, a buxom, hearty woman of six-and-thirty, with a husband and a fine boy. But there!—from the time she was fourteen it was too late! I must tell you, then, that she was the daughter of Guybertaut, a boat-minstrel at Reims, the same that played before King Charles VII at his coronation, when he went down our river Vesle from Sillery to Muison, and had Mme, la Pucelle—the Maid of Orleans—in the same boat with him. The old father died when Paquette was quite little, so she had only her mother, who was sister to M. Pradon, a master-brasier and tinsmith in Paris, Rue Parin-Garlin, and who died last year — so you see, she was of good family. The mother was a simple, easy- going creature, unfortunately, and never taught her anything really useful — just a little needlework and toy-making, which did not prevent her growing tall and strong, and remaining very poor. They lived together at Reims, by the river-side, in the Rue de Folle-Peine — mark that ! — for I believe that is what brought trouble to Paquette. Well, in '6I — the year of the Coronation of our King Louis XI, whom God preserve ! — Paquette was so gay and so fair that she was known far and wide as 'La Chantefleurie'—poor girl! She had pretty teeth, and she was fond of laughing, to show them. Now, a girl who is overfond of laughing is well on the way to tears; pretty teeth are the ruin of pretty eyes — and thus it befell Chantefleurie. She and her mother had a hard struggle to gain a living; they had sunk very low since the father's death — their needlework brought them in barely six deniers a week, which is not quite two Hards. Time was when Guybertaut had got twelve sols parisis at a coronation for a single song ! One winter — it was that same year of '6i — the two women had not a log or a fagot, and it was very cold, and this gave Chantefleurie such a beautiful colour in209
