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In the old land of Brittany, once called Cornwall, there lived a
woman named Barbaik Bourhis, who spent all her days in looking
after her farm with the help of her niece Tephany. Early and
late the two might be seen in the fields or in the dairy, milking
cows, making butter, feeding fowls; working hard themselves and
taking care that others worked too. Perhaps it might have been
better for Barbaik if she had left herself a little time to rest
and to think about other things, for soon she grew to love money
for its own sake, and only gave herself and Tephany the food and
clothes they absolutely needed. And as for poor people she
positively hated them, and declared that such lazy creatures had
no business in the world.
Well, this being the sort of person Barbaik was, it is easy to
guess at her anger when one day she found Tephany talking outside
the cowhouse to young Denis, who was nothing more than a day
labourer from the village of Plover. Seizing her niece by the
arm, she pulled her sharply away, exclaiming:
'Are you not ashamed, girl, to waste your time over a man who is
as poor as a rat, when there are a dozen more who would be only
too happy to buy you rings of silver, if you would let them?'
'Denis is a good workman, as you know very well,' answered
Tephany, red with anger, 'and he puts by money too, and soon he
will be able to take a farm for himself.'
'Nonsense,' cried Barbaik, 'he will never save enough for a farm
till he is a hundred. I would sooner see you in your grave than
the wife of a man who carries his whole fortune on his back.'
'What does fortune matter when one is young and strong?' asked
Tephany, but her aunt, amazed at such words, would hardly let her
finish.
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Fairytales 
