that little I learned only while carpentering in the shop of Monsieur Lebrenn, the linendraper opposite us."

"How did it happen, my boy?"

"While I was at work, Monsieur Lebrenn, who is the best man I know, used to chat with me. He would talk about the history of our fathers, of which I knew as little as you. Once my curiosity was pricked—and it was not slight—"

"I can well imagine that."

"I put a thousand questions to Monsieur Lebrenn, all the while hammering and joining. He answered me with truly paternal kindness. In that way I came to know the little that I have told you. But," added George with a sigh that he was unable to suppress, "my job being done, the history lessons were interrupted. Accordingly, I have told you all I know, grandfather."

"So, then, the linendraper who lives opposite is as learned as all that?"

"He is as learned as he is a true patriot. He is an old Gaul, as he loves to style himself. And sometimes," added George, unable to avoid blushing slightly, "I heard him say to his daughter, as he proudly embraced her on account of some clever answer or other that she made, 'Oh, as to you—you are a true Gallic girl!'"

At this moment father Morin and George heard someone rapping at the door of the first chamber.

"Walk in!" cried George.

Someone stepped into the front room that connected with the one occupied by the old man.

"Who is there?" George asked.

"I—Lebrenn," answered a voice.

"What! The worthy linendraper that we have been speaking about? The old Gaul?" whispered the venerable grandfather. "Go quick and see what he wants, my boy, and shut the door after you."