Library of the world's best literature, ancient and modern . e has since then published several newvolumes of poems. Both in verse andprose Theuriet excels in delicate depictionof country life and of nature, and in hissympathetic analysis of beauty. Theuriet has also attempted drama; andin 1871 his a one-act play, was given with success at the Odeon. He has written a large number of novels and short stories, andmany of these have been translated into English. Among the bestknown are < Madame Heurteloup, and < Stories of Every-day their greatest charm is the quiet simplicity
Library of the world's best literature, ancient and modern . e has since then published several newvolumes of poems. Both in verse andprose Theuriet excels in delicate depictionof country life and of nature, and in hissympathetic analysis of beauty. Theuriet has also attempted drama; andin 1871 his a one-act play, was given with success at the Odeon. He has written a large number of novels and short stories, andmany of these have been translated into English. Among the bestknown are < Madame Heurteloup, and < Stories of Every-day their greatest charm is the quiet simplicity with which thecharacters are drawn and the plot developed. Theuriet is cer-tainly, said Jules Lemaitre, the best, most cordial, and most accu-rate painter of our little French bour(;:foisu\ half peasant in natureand half townsfolk. He has a gentleness of spirit which makes him more alive to thepathetic than to the tragic. He is more tender than strong. So both. Andre 14796 ANDRE THEURIET in his dainty and musical poems, and his graceful prose, he pleasesby his calm and discriminating exposition of the life he studies ratherthan by emotional force. THE BRETONNE From Stories of Every-day Life ONE November night, the eve of St. Catherine, the iron gratingof the Auberive Central Prison turned on its hinges torelease a woman about thirty years old. She was dressedin a faded woolen gown, and wore a white cap which made anodd frame for a face puffed and bleached by the prison was a prisoner whose sentence had just expired. Her fellowconvicts called her The Bretonne. ** Just six years before, theprison wagon had brought her there condemned for having dressed herself again in her own clothes, and beingpaid her small savings at the office, she was once more free,with a passport marked for Langres. The mail had already started; so, frightened and awkward,she went stumblingly to the chief inn of the place, and in
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