Something like a pervading sorrow always seemed to be close behind his eyes and under his speech; yet he was a genial, sometimes almost jolly, man, very prone to join in the lighter amusements of his people.
"Children, children, my children," he called out as he approached along a little pathway leading up from the direction of the church, "what are you doing now?
Bah there, Alice, will you pull Jean's leg off ?" At first they did not hear him, they were so nearly deafened by their own vocal discords.
"Why are you standing on your head with your feet so high in air, Jean ?" he added.

"It's not a polite attitude in the presence of a young lady.

Are you a pig, that you poke your nose in the dirt ?" Alice now turned her bright head and gave Pere Beret a look of frank welcome, which at the same time shot a beam of willful self-assertion.
"My daughter, are you trying to help Jean up the tree feet foremost ?" the priest added, standing where he had halted just outside of the straggling yard fence.
He had his hands on his hips and was quietly chuckling at the scene before him, as one who, although old, sympathized with the natural and harmless sportiveness of young people and would as lief as not join in a prank or two.
"You see what I'm doing, Father Beret," said Alice, "I am preventing a great damage to you.

You will maybe lose a good many cherry pies and dumplings if I let Jean go.

He was climbing the tree to pilfer the fruit; so I pulled him down, you understand." "Ta, ta!" exclaimed the good man, shaking his gray head; "we must reason with the child.