Josephte was a short, stout virago, with a turned-up
nose and a pair of black eyes that would bore you through like an
auger. She wore a wide-brimmed hat of straw, overtopping curls as
crisp as her temper. Her short linsey petticoat was not chary of
showing her substantial ankles, while her rolled-up sleeves
displayed a pair of arms so red and robust that a Swiss milkmaid
might well have envied them.
Her remark was intended for the ear of Jose Le Tardeur, her husband,
a lazy, good-natured fellow, whose eyes had been fairly henpecked
out of his head all the days of his married life. Josephte's speech
hit him without hurting him, as he remarked to a neighbor. Josephte
made a target of him every day. He was glad, for his part, that the
women of Tilly were better soldiers than the men, and so much fonder
of looking after things! It saved the men a deal of worry and a
good deal of work.
"What are you saying, Jose?" exclaimed Felix, who only caught a few
half words.
"I say, Master Felix, that but for Mere Eve there would have been no
curse upon men, to make them labor when they do not want to, and no
sin either.
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