Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). A Victorian Anthology, 1837–1895. 1895.

Austin Dobson 1840–1921

The Curé’s Progress

Dobson-A

MONSIEUR the Curé down the street

Comes with his kind old face,—

With his coat worn bare, and his straggling hair,

And his green umbrella-case.

You may see him pass by the little “Grande Place,”

And the tiny “Hôtel-de-Ville;”

He smiles as he goes to the fleuriste Rose,

And the pompier Théophile.

He turns, as a rule, through the “Marché” cool,

Where the noisy fish-wives call;

And his compliment pays to the “belle Thérèse,”

As she knits in her dusky stall.

There ’s a letter to drop at the locksmith’s shop,

And Toto, the locksmith’s niece,

Has jubilant hopes, for the Curé gropes

In his tails for a pain d’épice.

There ’s a little dispute with a merchant of fruit,

Who is said to be heterodox,

That will ended be with a “Ma foi, oui!”

And a pinch from the Curé’s box.

There is also a word that no one heard

To the furrier’s daughter Lou;

And a pale cheek fed with a flickering red,

And a “Bon Dieu garde M’sieu’!”

But a grander way for the Sous-Préfet,

And a bow for Ma’am’selle Anne;

And a mock “off-hat” to the Notary’s cat,

And a nod to the Sacristan:—

For ever through life the Curé goes

With a smile on his kind old face—

With his coat worn bare, and his straggling hair,

And his green umbrella-case.