` Here comes our pretty little girl , ' I said to Kate , as we sat resting on the seat beside the footpath that leads from Dinan on the hill to Lehon in the valley . Yes , there she was , trotting toward us in her round cap , blue woollen gown , white apron , and wooden shoes . On her head was a loaf of buckwheat bread as big as a small wheel , in one hand a basket full of green stuff , while the other led an old goat , who seemed in no hurry to get home . We had often seen this rosy , bright-eyed child , had nodded to her , but never spoken , for she looked rather shy , and always seemed in haste . Now the sight of the goat reminded us of an excuse for addressing her , and as she was about to pass with the respectful little curtsey of the country , my friend said in French : -- ` Stay please . I want to speak to you . ' She stopped at once and stood looking at us under her long eyelashes in a timid yet confiding way , very pretty to see . ` We want to drink goat 's milk every morning : can you let us have it , little one ? ' ` Oh , yes , mademoiselle ! Nannette gives fine milk , and no one has yet engaged her , ' answered the child , her whole face brightening at the prospect . ` What name have you ? ' ` Marie Rosier , mademoiselle . ' ` And you live at Lehon ? ' ` Yes , mademoiselle . ' ` Have you parents ? ' ` Truly , yes , of the best . My father has a loom , my mother works in the field and mill with brother Yvon , and I go to school and care for Nannette and nurse little Bebe . ' ` What school ? ' ` At the convent , mademoiselle . The good sisters teach us the catechism , also to write and read and sew .
I like it much , ' and Marie glanced at the little prayer in her apron pocket , as if proud to show she could XXXXX it .
go live looked loom read seen spoken teach trotting works