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Abbe Mouret's Transgression

Abbe Mouret's Transgression

Author: Emile Zola
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Chapter 1 No.1

Word Count: 1721    |    Released on: 30/11/2017

hustling the benches, she went down the church to ring the Angelus. The bare, worn bell-rope dangled from the ceiling near the confessional, and ended in a big knot greasy from handling. Ag

s sorely vexed to find that the large upper cloth, already darned in a score of places, was again worn through in the very middle, so as to show the under cloth, which in its turn was so worn and so transparent that one could see the consecrated stone, embedded in the painted wood of the altar.

hey really want a clean! I

Epistle side, with its edges turned towards the middle of the altar. And afterwards she lighted the two candles. As she went off with her broom, she gave a glance round her to make s

risty, a small and chilly apartment, whic

owing the smiling young priest sufficient time to reply, she added 'I've a scolding to give you. There's another hole in the cloth again. There's no sense in it. We

linen, my good Teuse,' he cheerfully replied. 'He is alway

tap, he asked: 'Is my sister

ich the sacred vestments were kept. 'She is already with her fowls and rabbits. She was expecting some chicks to be hatched yester

it reverently from the shelf covered with blue paper, on which she laid it after each service; and having placed it on the sideboard, she cautiously removed the fine cloths which protected its embroidery. A golden lamb slumbered on a golden cross, surrounded by broad rays of gold. The gold tissue, frayed at the folds, broke out in little slender tuf

nd amice. But her tongue still wagged while she crossed the stole with the maniple

to make up your mind to get another, your reverence. It wouldn't b

, in which the sacred vessels and linen, the Holy Oils, the Missals, candlesticks, and crosses were kept. Across the cup he laid a clean purificator, and on this set the silver-gilt paten, wi

rporals to wash them-separately, of course-not with the house-wash. By-the-bye, your reverence, I di

oral into the burse and laid the lat

Vincent hasn't come. Do you wish me

riest eyed

n ragamuffins who laugh like heathens at seeing a fly buzzing about the church. True I may wear a cap, I may be sixty years old, and as round

l looking at her an

ng clothes are gone to the vineyards! And goodness knows what they do among such vines-vines that grow under the pebbles and look as dry as thistles! A perfect wilderness, three miles from an

on, gently opened the door of the sacristy. His shock of red h

been up to some mischief! Come on, you scamp, sin

it and fastened the tapes, the right one over the left. He next donned the alb, the symbol of purity, beginning with the right sleeve. Vincent stooped and turned around him, adjusting the alb, in order that it should fal

, that she soon broke out once more: 'Brother Archangias has been here. He won't have a single child at school to-day. He went off ag

er his left forearm, as a symbol of the practice of good works-and while crossing on his breast the stole, the symbol of his dignity and power. La T

ruets!' she stammered, rushing to t

he fingers of his right resting meanwhile on the burse, then bowed profoundly, but without removing his biretta, to a black wooden crucifix, which hung over the side-board. The lad bowed too

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