Ernest Pérochon

“ Then she took out the little vests and stockings, the baby's bibs, and Lalie's pinafores and hair ribbons. When she had them all spread out on the table, she emptied her bottle on them, drop by drop, as if she were sprinkling holy water.
"My little darlings—may it bring you happiness!"
She wanted to do something more for them, but it was late; and so that she might not call attention to her doings, she stepped out of her wooden shoes and went about the room noiselessly.
She found holes in Jo's stockings and mended them. Lalie was growing fast; her Sunday pinafore had become too short. ”

“ I'd grown used to the place, but all I care about is the children—truly!— I'll miss them, the darlings,—but none of the others!— I'll go to a big farm, like last year; I'll have more freedom there. They are getting me all muddled between them, those I like and those I don't like. ”

“ Your father is wicked—I am wicked—people grow wicked when they grow up. They don't know how to forgive things. We aren't any better than they were in the old time when they kept fighting each other."
Madeleine wept as she looked at the cradle and at her shiny new-fashioned bed, where Lalie was sleeping. ”