The bag was half full of
flour. The housekeeper opened it and showed it to the king, on whom
she cast the rapid, savage look with which old maids appear to squirt
venom upon men.
"It costs six sous the 'septeree,'" she said.
"What does that matter?" said the king. "Spread it on the floor; but
be careful to make an even layer of it--as if it had fallen like
snow."
The old maid did not comprehend. This proposal astonished her as
though the end of the world had come.
"My flour, sire! on the ground! But--"
Maitre Cornelius, who was beginning to understand, though vaguely, the
intentions of the king, seized the bag and gently poured its contents
on the floor. The old woman quivered, but she held out her hand for
the empty bag, and when her brother gave it back to her she
disappeared with a heavy sigh.
Cornelius then took a feather broom and gently smoothed the flour till
it looked like a fall of snow, retreating step by step as he did so,
followed by the king, who seemed much amused by the operation. When
they reached the door Louis XI.
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