Jane Curtin

Bobineau was the embodiment of serious solicitude as he strove to remove from his own person and his son's the signs of their tramp over heavy roads and through wet fields.

He scraped the mud off Bebe's bare legs and feet with a stick and carefully removed all traces from his heavy brogans.

Then, prepared for the worst, the meeting with an over-scrupulous housewife, they entered cautiously at the back door.

Calixta was preparing supper.

She had set the table and was dripping coffee at the hearth.

She sprang up as they came in.

Oh, Bobineau, you're back.

My, but I was uneasy.

Where you been during the rain?

And, Bebe, he ain't wet.

He ain't hurt.

She had clasped Bebe and was kissing him effusively.

Bobineau's explanations and apologies, which he had been composing all the way, died on his lips as Calixta felt him to see if he were dry and seemed to express nothing but satisfaction at their safe return.

I brought you some shrimps, Calixta, offered Bobineau, hauling the can from his ample side pocket and laying it on the table.

"'Shrimps, oh, Bobineau, you too good for anything!'

And she gave him a smackin' kiss on the cheek that resounded, "'Je vous respond, we'll have a feast tonight, uh-huh!'

Bobineau and Bibi began to relax and enjoy themselves, and when the three seated themselves at table, they laughed much and so loud that anyone might have heard them as far away as La Bolliere's.

I'll see La Bolliere wrote to his wife Clarice that night.

It was a loving letter, full of tender solicitude."

He told her not to hurry back, but if she and the babies liked it at Biloxi, to stay a month longer.