"Well, my girl, may heaven take care of you!" said he, kissing his
daughter, "and of you too, Jacques," and he extended the caress to his
son-in-law. "I won't say but what I wish you were a decent shoe-maker,
or--"
"Oh, laws, father," said Annot, "I'm sure I should never have had him,
if he had been."
"The more fool you, Annot; but I wish it all the same; and that Annot
had had a couple of cows to mind, and half-a-dozen pigs to look after;
but it's too late to think of that now; they'll soon have neither a cow
nor a pig in La Vendee; and they'll want neither smiths nor shoemakers;
however, my boy, God bless you! God bless you! ladies and gentlemen, God
bless you all!" and then the smith completed the work he had commenced,
and got as tipsy as he could have done, had his daughter been married
in Poitou.
CHAPTER XIII
CONCLUSION
We have told our tale of La Vendee; we have married our hero and our
heroine; and, as is usual in such cases, we must now bid them adieu. We
cannot congratulate ourselves on leaving them in a state of happy
prosperity, as we would have wished to have done; but we leave them with
high hopes and glorious aspirations.
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