Thereupon he blew into his flute. 

   

    THE BAGPIPERS 

   BY 

   GEORGE SAND 

   BOSTON LITTLE, BROWN AND COMPANY 

 Copyright, 1890, BY ROBERTS BROTHERS. 

   UNIVERSITY PRESS:   JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A. 

 TO M. EUGÈNE LAMBERT. 

 MY DEAR CHILD,—As you like to hear me relate the tales told by the peasants at our veillées,—I mean the watch-nights of my youth, when I had time to listen to them,—I shall try to recall the story of Étienne Depardieu, and piece together the scattered fragments of it still remaining in my memory. It was told to me by the man himself during several of the breyage evenings,—a name given, as you know, to the late hours of the night spent in grinding hemp, when those present relate their village chronicles. It is long since Père Depardieu slept the sleep of the just, and he was quite old when he told me this story of the naïve adventures of his youth. For this reason I shall try to let him speak for himself, imitating his manner as closely as I can. You will not blame me for insisting on so doing, because you know from experience that the thoughts and emotions of a peasant cannot be rendered in our own style of language without making them unnatural and giving them a tone of even shocking affectation. 

 You also know by experience, that the peasantry guess or comprehend much more than we believe them capable of understanding; and you have often been struck with their sudden insight, which, even in matters of art, has an appearance of revelation. If I were to tell you in my language and yours certain things which you have heard and understood in theirs, you would find those very things so unlike what is natural to these people that you would accuse me of unconsciously putting something of my own into the relation, and of attributing to the peasantry reflections and feelings which they could not have. It suffices to introduce into the expression of their ideas a single word that is not in 

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