The Aspirations of Jean Servien
d, and his mother nursed him at her breast as she sewed the books, sheet by sheet, with the curved needle of the trade. One day as she was crossing the shop, humming a
xposed, a severe blow against the corner of the iron press. She felt no very acute pain at the time, but later on
little one in her one sound arm and croon over him i
an, when da
o greet the k
hange of a word. It was her little Jean's lullaby, who became, at the caprice of the wo
les of concierges, footmen, and cooks, she pictured her boy at twenty more beautiful than an archangel, his breast glittering with decoration
ther's breast, Sweet wee
anding up gowned in Court, by his eloquence savi
ther's breast, Sweet wee
form, on a prancing charger, victorious in battle, like the grea
ther's breast, Sweet wee
new picture would dazzle her eyes, a picture
al vestments, lifting the monstrance in the vaulted choir censed by the beating wings of half-seen Cherubim. And she would tremble awestruck
nonce, on mo
y-bishop, t
nded her a cooling drink, she
y Virgin among flowers and precious stones a
in, that she wished her Jean to