Chapeau, I am sensible how great an honour you propose to do me and my poor daughter; but I am not a proud man, no one can say that Michael Stein was ever proud or ambitious; my only wish is to see my little girl married to a decent hard-working fellow, like her father." "Well, ain't I a hard-working fellow ?" "Let me look at your hands, M.Chapeau; the inside of your hands.

No, you are not a hard-working fellow; your hand is as soft as a lady's." "What signifies my hand?
I shan't make a worse husband, shall I, because my hand is not as horny as your own." "No, but a hard-fisted fellow is the only man that will suit my daughter." "But, Michael Stein, she herself thinks--" "Who ever heard of asking a girl what she thinks herself?
Of course she'd sooner be a fine lady, and spend her time walking about a big chateau than be milking cows and minding goats." "But won't she be earning her living and her wages honestly ?" "Wages! I don't like those sort of wages, M.Chapeau.I don't mean to say anything uncivil, and I hope you won't take it amiss, but there are two trades I don't fancy for my children: the one is that of a soldier, the other that of a great man's servant." "Gracious me, Michael Stein! why I'm both," said Chapeau, rather offended.
"I beg your pardon again and again, and I really mean no offence: clown as I am, I hope I know better than to say anything to hurt my own guest in my own house." Chapeau assured him he was not offended, and begged to know why the old man objected to see his children become soldiers or servants.
"They've no liberty," said Michael, "though they usually take a deal too much licence.

They never are allowed to call their time their own, though they often misuse the time that ought to belong to other people." For a long time Chapeau combatted such arguments as these, but without avail; the smith declared that now, as his two sons had become soldiers, it would break his heart if his daughter also were to marry one.

He assured Jacques, with tears running down his rough cheeks, that he could not bring himself to give his daughter his blessing, if she left his house without his leave to marry a soldier.

He declared that he also loved her better than all the world, and that he could not bear to part with her; and his tears and kindly words had such an effect upon Annot, that she could not restrain herself: she burst into tears herself and running out of her little room, threw herself into her father's arms.
"Get up, thou simpleton; get up, thou little fool," said he.