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47811Maman Nainaine said that when figs were
12143ripe Babette might go to visit her cousins down on the Bayou-Lafourche where the sugar cane grows. Not that the ripening of figs had the least thing to do with it, but that is the way Maman Nainaine was.
It seemed to Babette a very long time to wait; for the leaves upon the trees were tender yet, and the figs were like little hard green marbles
42733.
But warm rain comes along and plenty of strong sunshine and
74890though Maman Nainaine was as
16336patient as the statue of la-Madone and Babette as
64173restless as a hummingbird, the first thing they both knew it was hot summertime. Everyday Babette
58009danced out to where fig-trees were in a long line against the fence. She walked slowly beneath them, carefully peering between the gnarled, spreading branches. But each time she came disconsolate away again. What she saw there finally was something that made her sing and dance the whole long day.
When Mamane Nainaine 66733sat down in her stately way to breakfast the following morning, 51656her muslin cap standing like an aureole about her white, placid face, Babette approached. She bore a dainty porcelain platter, which she set down before her godmother. It contained a dozen 87788purple figs, fringed around with their 55883green rich leaves "Ah!" said Maman Nainaine arching her eyebrows, "How 95646early figs have ripened this year!"
"Oh!" said Babette. "I think they have ripened very 66209late." "Babette," continued Maman Nainaine, as she peeled the very plumpest 35961figs with her pointed silver fruit-knife, "You will carry my love to them all down to Bayoue-Lafourche. And tell your Tante Frosine I shall look for her at Toussaint - when the chrysanthemums are in 18868bloom.
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