Blanche McManus

Summary

Blanche McManus Our Little French Cousin

It was a beautiful walk through the fields and apple orchards, into the road, shaded by old trees that led to the top of the hill, and then down the hillside past the old Château Gaillard; that wonderful castle whose history Germaine never wearied of hearing.
It seemed to her like a fairy-tale that such things could have happened so near her papa's farm, though it all took place many hundreds of years ago, when there was nothing but wild woods where now stands their farm and those of their neighbours.
Source: Gutenberg

Blanche McManus Our Little French Cousin

Thomson talked to her so pleasantly in his queer French that it amused her. Germaine never smiled, even when he made mistakes in grammar that a French child of eight would not have made.
The French are a proverbially polite people, and at no time is their politeness so apparent as when a foreigner is speaking their language. They never laugh nor take the slightest notice of the worst blunders, but with the greatest pains try to understand them, and even go out of their way to set them right.
Source: Gutenberg

Blanche McManus Our Little French Cousin

Even the well-to-do farmers, like Germaine's papa, eat their meals in their kitchens, which are also used as a general sitting-room.
Everything about a French house is very neat, but especially so is the kitchen, whose bare wooden or stone floor is waxed and polished every day until it shines like polished mahogany. On the mantelpiece of the kitchen of Germaine's home, which was more than twice as tall as Germaine herself, was a long row of brass candlesticks, a vase or two, and a little statue of the Madonna with flowers before it.
Source: Gutenberg

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