The poor parents = Les parents pauvres . theres nobodyhere. Well, child, what can bring you here so early of a morn-ing? asked the sorceress, as Mme. Fontaine might well becalled, for she was seventy-eight years old, and looked likeone of the Parcae. Something has given me a turn, said La Cibot; Iwant \.\\Q grandJeu;^ it is a question of my fortune. There-v/ith she explained her position, and wished to know if hersordid hopes were likely to be realized. Do you know what X\\q grand Jeu means? asked , with much solemnity. No. I havent never seen the trick, I am not rich hund
The poor parents = Les parents pauvres . theres nobodyhere. Well, child, what can bring you here so early of a morn-ing? asked the sorceress, as Mme. Fontaine might well becalled, for she was seventy-eight years old, and looked likeone of the Parcae. Something has given me a turn, said La Cibot; Iwant \.\\Q grandJeu;^ it is a question of my fortune. There-v/ith she explained her position, and wished to know if hersordid hopes were likely to be realized. Do you know what X\\q grand Jeu means? asked , with much solemnity. No. I havent never seen the trick, I am not rich hundred francs! Its not as if it cost so much! Wherewas the money to come from ? But now I cant help my-self, I must have it. I dont do it often, child, returned Mme. Fontaine; Ionly do it for rich people on great occasions, and they payme twenty-five louis for doing it; it tires me, you see, itwears me out. The Spirit rives my inside, here. It islike going to the Sabbath, as they used to say. * The Great Play; i. j., all that can be A COID THRILL RAN THROUGH M M E. ClBOT. COUSIN PONS. .221 But when I tell you that it means my whole future, mydear good Maam Fontaine Well, as it is you that have come to consult me so often,I will submit myself to the Spirit ! replied Mme. Fontaine,with a look of genuine terror on her face. She rose from her filthy old chair by the fireside, and wentto a table covered with a green cloth so worn that you couldcount the threads. A huge toad sat dozing there beside acage inhabited by a black disheveled-looking fowl. Astaroth! here, my son! she said, and the creaturelooked up intelligently at her as she rapped him on the backwith a long knitting-needle. And you, Mademoiselle Cleo-patre !—attention ! she continued, tapping the ancient fowlon the beak. Then Mme. Fontaine began to think; for several secondsshe did not move; she looked like a corpse, her eyes rolledin their sockets and grew white; then she rose stiff and erect,and a cavernous voice
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