Where were the days when Father Guybertant had earned twelve sous parisian, in a single coronation, with a song? One winter (it was in that same year of '61), when the two women had neither fagots nor firewood, it was very cold, which gave la Chantefleurie such a fine color that the men called her Paquette!* and many called her Pàquerette!** and she was ruined.−−Eustache, just let me see you bite that cake if you dare!−−We immediately perceived that she was ruined, one Sunday when she came to church with a gold cross about her neck.
Leur doreloterie ne leur rapportait guère plus de six deniers par semaine, ce qui ne fait pas tout à fait deux liards-à-l’aigle. Où était le temps que le père Guybertaut gagnait douze sols parisis dans un seul sacre avec une chanson ?