Letter from Mrs. Martin CF 112
To his daughters, Marie and Pauline
30 November 1873.
My dear little girls,
Mademoiselle Pauline is not going to Le Mans, I was obliged to entrust the little parcel to M. Vital; I wouldn't have done it, if not for the ball of cotton for the crocheted hat. This famous ball gave me enough trouble! It would have been much better to buy it at Le Mans, the day you went out with Miss Pauline, you would have found it as easily as at Alencon and not more expensive, perhaps less. I hope this time it will be thin enough, that's all the best.
I don't know if Léonie will be able to enter the Visitation on New Year's Eve; she has eczema and it is always getting worse. Your aunt must tell me if I should wait until she is cured.
I saw Thérèse on Thursday, despite the bad weather, and she was wiser than the last time. However, Louise wasn't happy, the little one didn't want to look at her or go with her, I was very annoyed; it came to me from the workers, at every moment, I gave it to one and to the other. She wanted to see them, even more willingly than me, and kissed them several times. Country women, dressed like his nanny, that's the world he needs!
Mrs. T. arrived while a worker was holding her. As soon as I saw her, I said to her, “Let's see if the baby is going to want to come to you. She, quite surprised, answers me: "Why not?—Well, try!..." had burned. She didn't even want Mrs. T. to look at her. We laughed a lot about that; finally, she is afraid of people dressed in fashion!
I hope she will walk on her own in five or six weeks. All you have to do is put her upright near a chair, she holds herself there very well and never falls. She takes her little precautions for that.
And now I have to tell you something else, although the conclusion of the story is not pretty and shows a very bad spirit among the people.
So a strange thing happened recently to a lady whose carriage was parked opposite our house, in front of the Prefecture. The coachman was in magnificent livery, all trimmed with furs. A badly dressed individual, carrying a canvas bag in his hand, comes to pass. He stops for a moment to gaze at the coachman, then the lady in the carriage, and goes to the open door, unties his bag and empties the contents onto the lady's lap.
Immediately, the latter begins to utter terrible cries; the coachman quickly comes to his aid, the passers-by come running. We see this lady writhing in an attack of hysterics and, on her, about twenty frogs; she had it all over her head, well, she was covered with it!
The evil individual watched her struggle. When the Superintendent arrived and asked him why he had done such an action: "I had just caught these frogs to sell them," he said calmly, "but seeing this 'aristocrat', with his stuffed coachman, I preferred him give a nervous attack to sell my frogs. We took him to the violin, he hadn't stolen it!
I'm sure you're going to say, "If we had done the same to Mom, she would have died!" It could well have been, because you know my irrational fear of frogs!
I expect a letter from you this week; I hope it will be good, that is to say, it will bring me good news. I expect that you will both communicate on December 8, the day of the Immaculate Conception; don't forget to pray for Léonie.
We will soon have only four weeks left until the January holidays, so rejoice and try to use the little time you have left. Your father makes a point of coming to get you, he said so on Thursday, but he cares less about driving you home, because he doesn't like to see you cry.
Little Thérèse won't be back until New Year's Day, but on that date she will surely be brought to me, because of you.
