It seems that in the village there was an old woman frightfully disfigured by fire , and not quite sane as the people thought . She was harmless , but never showed herself by day , and only came out at night to work in her garden or take the air . Many of the ignorant peasants feared her , however ; for the country abounds in fairy legends , and strange tales of ghosts and goblins . But the more charitable left bread at her door , and took in return the hose she knit or the thread she spun . During the drought it was observed that her garden , though the steepest and stoniest , was never dry ; her cabbages flourished when her neighbours ' withered , and her onions stood up green and tall as if some special rain-spirit watched over them . People wondered and shook their heads , but could not explain it , for Mother Lobineau was too infirm to carry much water up the steep path , and who would help her unless some of her own goblin friends did it ? This idea was suggested by the story of a peasant returning late at night , who had seen something white flitting to and fro in the garden-patch , and when he called to it saw it vanish most mysteriously . This made quite a stir in the town ; others watched also , saw the white phantom in the starlight , and could not tell where it went when it vanished behind the chestnut trees on the hill , till one man , braver than the rest , hid himself behind these trees and discovered the mystery . The sprite was Marie , in her little shift , who stepped out of the window of the loft where she slept on to a bough of the tree , and thence to the hill , for the house was built so close against the bank that it was ` but a step from garret to garden , ' as they say in Morlaix . In trying to escape from this inquisitive neighbour , Marie hurt her foot , but was caught , and confessed that it was she who went at night to water poor Mother Lobineau 's cabbages ; because if they failed the old woman might starve , and no one else remembered her destitute and helpless state . The good-hearted people were much touched by this silent sermon on loving one 's neighbour as one 's self , and Marie was called the ` little saint , ' and tended carefully by all the good women . Just as the story ended , she woke up , and at first seemed inclined to hide under the bedclothes . But we had her out in a minute , and presently she was laughing over her good deed , with a true child 's enjoyment of a bit of roguery , saying in her simple way , -- ` Yes ; it was so droll to go running about en chemise , like the girl in the tale of the ` Midsummer Eve , ' where she pulls the Saint Johns-wort flower , and has her wish to hear all the creatures talk . I liked it much , and Yvon slept so like the dormouse that he never heard me creep in and out . It was hard to bring much water , but the poor cabbages were so glad , and Mother Lobineau felt that all had not forgotten her . We took care that little Saint Marie was not forgotten , but quite well , and all ready for her confirmation when the day came . This is a pretty sight , and for her sake we went to the old church of St. Sauveur to see it . It was a bright spring day , and the gardens were full of early flowers , the quaint streets gay with proud fathers and mothers in holiday dress , and flocks of strangers pausing to see the long procession of little girls with white caps and veils , gloves and gowns , prayer-books and rosaries , winding through the sunny square into the shadowy church with chanting and candles , garlands and crosses . The old priest was too ill to perform the service , but the young one who took his place announced , after it was over , that if they would pass the house the good old man would bless them from his balcony . That was the best of all , and a sweet sight , as the feeble fatherly old priest leaned from his easy-chair to stretch his trembling hands over the little flock so like a bed of snowdrops , while the bright eyes and rosy faces looked reverently up at him , and the fresh voices chanted the responses as the curly heads under the long veils bowed and passed by .
We learned afterwards that our XXXXX had been called in and praised for her secret charity -- a great honour , because the good priest was much beloved by all his flock , and took a most paternal interest in the little ones .
Johns-wort Marie day dormouse escape fro minute night prayer-books snowdrops