MY DEAR CHILD,--As you like to hear me relate the tales told by the peasants at our _veillées_,--I mean the watch-nights of my youth, when I had time to listen to them,--I shall try to recall the story of Étienne Depardieu, and piece together the scattered fragments of it still remaining in my memory. It was told to me by the man himself during several of the _breyage_ evenings,--a name given, as you know, to the late hours of the night spent in grinding hemp, when those present relate their village chronicles. It is long since Père Depardieu slept the sleep of the just, and he was quite old when he told me this story of the naïve adventures of his youth. For this reason I shall try to let h…
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