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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Ten Tales, by François Coppée
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Ten Tales
+
+Author: François Coppée
+
+Contributor: Brander Matthews
+
+Illustrator: Albert E. Sterner
+
+Translator: Warren Walter Learned
+
+Release Date: January 15, 2007 [EBook #20380]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TEN TALES ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: FRANÇOIS COPPÉE.]
+
+
+
+FROM THE FRENCH
+
+
+
+Ten Tales
+
+
+By
+
+
+François Coppée
+
+
+
+_Translated by WALTER LEARNED, with fifty pen-and-ink drawings
+by ALBERT E. STERNER, and an introduction by BRANDER MATTHEWS_
+
+
+NEW YORK
+HARPER & BROTHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE
+1891
+
+
+
+Copyright, 1890, by HARPER & BROTHERS.
+
+_All rights reserved._
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+THE CAPTAIN'S VICES
+
+TWO CLOWNS
+
+A VOLUNTARY DEATH
+
+A DRAMATIC FUNERAL
+
+THE SUBSTITUTE
+
+AT TABLE
+
+AN ACCIDENT
+
+THE SABOTS OF LITTLE WOLFF
+
+THE FOSTER SISTER
+
+MY FRIEND MEURTRIER
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+The _conte_ is a form of fiction in which the French have always
+delighted and in which they have always excelled, from the days of the
+_jongleurs_ and the _trouvères_, past the periods of La Fontaine and
+Voltaire, down to the present. The _conte_ is a tale, something more
+than a sketch, it may be, and something less than a short story. In
+verse it is at times but a mere rhymed anecdote, or it may attain almost
+to the direct swiftness of a ballad. The _Canterbury Tales_ are
+_contes_, most of them, if not all; and so are some of the _Tales of a
+Wayside Inn_. The free-and-easy tales of Prior were written in imitation
+of the French _conte en vers_; and that, likewise, was the model of more
+than one of the lively narrative poems of Mr. Austin Dobson.
+
+No one has succeeded more abundantly in the _conte en vers_ than M.
+Coppée. Where was there ever anything better of its kind than _L'Enfant
+de la Balle?_--that gentle portrait of the Infant Phenomenon, framed in
+a chain of occasional gibes at the sordid ways of theatrical managers
+and at their hostility towards poetic plays. Where is there anything of
+a more simple pathos than _L'Épave?_--that story of a sailor's son whom
+the widowed mother strives vainly to keep from the cruel waves that
+killed his father. (It is worthy of a parenthesis that although the ship
+M. Coppée loves best is that which sails the blue shield of the City of
+Paris, he knows the sea also, and he depicts sailors with affectionate
+fidelity.) But whether at the sea-side by chance, or more often in the
+streets of the city, the poet seeks out for the subject of his story
+some incident of daily occurrence made significant by his
+interpretation; he chooses some character common-place enough, but made
+firmer by conflict with evil and by victory over self. Those whom he
+puts into his poems are still the humble, the forgotten, the neglected,
+the unknown; and it is the feelings and the struggles of these that he
+tells us, with no maudlin sentimentality, and with no dead set at our
+sensibilities. The sub-title Mrs. Stowe gave to _Uncle Tom's Cabin_
+would serve to cover most of M. Coppée's _contes_ either in prose or
+verse; they are nearly all pictures of _life among the lowly_. But there
+is no forcing of the note in his painting of poverty and labor; there is
+no harsh juxtaposition of the blacks and the whites. The tone is always
+manly and wholesome.
+
+_La Marchande de Journaux_ and the other little masterpieces of
+story-telling in verse are unfortunately untranslatable, as are all
+poems but a lyric or two, now and then, by a happy accident. A
+translated poem is a boiled strawberry, as some one once put it
+brutally. But the tales which M. Coppée has written in prose--a true
+poet's prose, nervous, vigorous, flexible, and firm--these can be
+Englished by taking thought and time and pains, without which a
+translation is always a betrayal. Ten of these tales have been rendered
+into English by Mr. Learned; and the ten chosen for translation are
+among the best of the two score and more of M. Coppée's _contes en
+prose_. These ten tales are fairly representative of his range and
+variety. Compare, for example, the passion in "The Foster Sister," pure,
+burning and fatal, with the Black Forest _naïveté_ of "The Sabots of
+Little Wolff." Contrast the touching pathos of "The Substitute,"
+poignant in his magnificent self-sacrifice, by which the man who has
+conquered his shameful past goes back willingly to the horrible life he
+has fled from that he may save from a like degradation and from an
+inevitable moral decay the one friend he has in the world, all unworthy
+as this friend is--contrast this with the story of the gigantic deeds
+"My Friend Meurtrier" boasts about unceasingly, not knowing that he has
+been discovered in his little round of daily domestic duties, making the
+coffee of his good old mother and taking her poodle out for a walk.
+
+Among these ten there are tales of all sorts, from the tragic adventure
+of "An Accident" to the pendent portraits of the "Two Clowns," cutting
+in its sarcasm, but not bitter--from "The Captain's Vices," which
+suggests at once George Eliot's _Silas Marner_ and Mr. Austin Dobson's
+_Tale of Polypheme_, to the sombre revery of the poet "At Table," a
+sudden and searching light cast on the labor and misery which underlies
+the luxury of our complex modern existence. Like "At Table," "A Dramatic
+Funeral" is a picture more than it is a story; it is a marvellous
+reproduction of the factitious emotion of the good-natured stage folk,
+who are prone to overact even their own griefs and joys. "A Dramatic
+Funeral" seems to me always as though it might be a painting of M. Jean
+Beraud, that most Parisian of artists, just as certain stories of M. Guy
+de Maupassant inevitably suggest the bold freedom of M. Forain's
+sketches in black-and-white.
+
+An ardent admirer of the author of the stories in _The Odd Number_ has
+protested to me that M. Coppée is not an etcher like M. de Maupassant,
+but rather a painter in water-colors. And why not? Thus might we call M.
+Alphonse Daudet an artist in pastels, so adroitly does he suggest the
+very bloom of color. No doubt M. Coppée's _contes_ have not the
+sharpness of M. de Maupassant's, nor the brilliancy of M. Daudet's--but
+what of it? They have qualities of their own; they have sympathy,
+poetry, and a power of suggesting pictures not exceeded, I think, by
+those of either M. de Maupassant or M. Daudet. M. Coppée's street views
+in Paris, his interiors, his impressionist sketches of life under the
+shadows of Notre Dame, are convincingly successful. They are intensely
+to be enjoyed by those of us who take the same keen delight in the
+varied phases of life in New York. They are not, to my mind, really
+rivalled either by those of M. de Maupassant, who is a Norman by birth
+and a nomad by choice, or by those of M. Daudet, who is a native of
+Provence, although now for thirty years a resident of Paris. M. Coppée
+is a Parisian from his youth up, and even in prose he is a poet; perhaps
+this is why his pictures of Paris are unsurpassable in their felicity
+and in their verity.
+
+It may be fancy, but I seem to see also a finer morality in M. Coppée's
+work than in M. de Maupassant's or in M. Daudet's or in that of almost
+any other of the Parisian story-tellers of to-day. In his tales we
+breathe a purer moral atmosphere, more wholesome and more bracing. It is
+not that M. Coppée probably thinks of ethics rather than æsthetics; in
+this respect his attitude is undoubtedly that of the others; there is no
+sermon in his song--or at least none for those who will not seek it for
+themselves; there is never a hint of a preachment. But for all that I
+have found in his work a trace of the tonic morality which inheres in
+Molière, for example, also a Parisian by birth, and also in Rabelais,
+despite his disguising grossness. This finer morality comes possibly
+from a wider and a deeper survey of the universe; and it is as different
+as possible from the morality which is externally applied and which
+always punishes the villain in the fifth act.
+
+It is of good augury for our own letters that the best French fiction of
+to-day is getting itself translated in the United States, and that the
+liking for it is growing apace. Fiction is more consciously an art in
+France than anywhere else--perhaps partly because the French are now
+foremost in nearly all forms of artistic endeavor. In the short story
+especially, in the tale, in the _conte_, their supremacy is
+incontestable; and their skill is shown and their æsthetic instinct
+exemplified partly in the sense of form, in the constructive method,
+which underlies the best short stories, however trifling these may
+appear to be, and partly in the rigorous suppression of non-essentials,
+due in a measure, it may be, to the example of Mérimee. That is an
+example we in America may study to advantage; and from the men who are
+writing fiction in France we may gain much. From the British fiction of
+this last quarter of the nineteenth century little can be learned by any
+one--less by us Americans in whom the English tradition is still
+dominant. When we look to France for an exemplar we may find a model of
+value, but when we copy an Englishman we are but echoing our own faults.
+"The truth is," said Mr. Lowell in his memorable essay _On a Certain
+Condescension in Foreigners_--"the truth is that we are worth nothing
+except so far as we have disinfected ourselves of Anglicism."
+
+                                                      BRANDER MATTHEWS.
+
+
+
+
+THE CAPTAIN'S VICES.
+
+[Illustration: THE CAPTAIN'S VICES]
+
+
+I.
+
+It is of no importance, the name of the little provincial city where
+Captain Mercadier--twenty-six years of service, twenty-two campaigns,
+and three wounds--installed himself when he was retired on a pension.
+
+It was quite like all those other little villages which solicit without
+obtaining it a branch of the railway; just as if it were not the sole
+dissipation of the natives to go every day, at the same hour, to the
+Place de la Fontaine to see the diligence come in at full gallop, with
+its gay cracking of the whips and clang of bells.
+
+It was a place of three thousand inhabitants--ambitiously denominated
+souls in the statistical tables--and was exceedingly proud of its title
+of chief city of the canton. It had ramparts planted with trees, a
+pretty river with good fishing, a church of the charming epoch of the
+flamboyant Gothic, disgraced by a frightful station of the cross,
+brought directly from the quarter of Saint Sulpice. Every Monday its
+market was gay with great red and blue umbrellas, and countrymen filled
+its streets in carts and carriages. But for the rest of the week it
+retired with delight into that silence and solitude which made it so
+dear to its rustic population. Its streets were paved with
+cobble-stones; through the windows of the ground-floor one could see
+samplers and wax-flowers under glass domes, and, through the gates of
+the gardens, statuettes of Napoleon in shell-work. The principal inn was
+naturally called the Shield of France; and the town-clerk made rhymed
+acrostics for the ladies of society.
+
+Captain Mercadier had chosen that place of retreat for the simple reason
+that he had been born there, and because, in his noisy childhood, he had
+pulled down the signs and plugged up the bell-buttons. He returned there
+to find neither relations, nor friends, nor acquaintances; and the
+recollections of his youth recalled only the angry faces of shop-keepers
+who shook their fists at him from the shop-doors, a catechism which
+threatened him with hell, a school which predicted the scaffold, and,
+finally, his departure for his regiment, hastened by a paternal
+malediction.
+
+For the Captain was not a saintly man; the old record of his punishment
+was black with days in the guard-house inflicted for breaches of
+discipline, absences from roll-calls, and nocturnal uproars in the
+mess-room. He had often narrowly escaped losing his stripes as a
+corporal or a sergeant, and he needed all the chance, all the license of
+a campaigning life to gain his first epaulet. Firm and brave soldier, he
+had passed almost all his life in Algiers at that time when our foot
+soldiers wore the high shako, white shoulder-belts and huge
+cartridge-boxes. He had had Lamoricière for commander. The Due de
+Nemours, near whom he received his first wound, had decorated him, and
+when he was sergeant-major, Père Bugrand had called him by his name and
+pulled his ears. He had been a prisoner of Abd-el-Kader, bearing the
+scar of a yataghan stroke on his neck, of one ball in his shoulder and
+another in his chest; and notwithstanding absinthe, duels, debts of
+play, and almond-eyed Jewesses, he fairly won, with the point of the
+bayonet and sabre, his grade of captain in the First Regiment of
+Sharp-shooters.
+
+Captain Mercadier--twenty-six years of service, twenty-two campaigns,
+and three wounds--had just retired on his pension, not quite two
+thousand francs, which, joined to the two hundred and fifty francs from
+his cross, placed him in that estate of honorable penury which the State
+reserves for its old servants.
+
+His entry into his natal city was without ostentation. He arrived one
+morning on the imperiale of the diligence, chewing an extinguished
+cigar, and already on good terms with the conductor, to whom, during his
+journey, he had related the passage of the Porte de Fer; full of
+indulgence, moreover, for the distractions of his auditor, who often
+interrupted the recital by some oath or epithet addressed to the off
+mare. When the diligence stopped he threw on the sidewalk his old
+valise, covered with railway placards as numerous as the changes of
+garrison that its proprietor had made, and the idlers of the
+neighborhood were astonished to see a man with a decoration--a rare
+thing in the province--offer a glass of wine to the coachman at the bar
+of an inn near by.
+
+He installed himself at once. In a house in the outskirts, where two
+captive cows lowed, and fowls and ducks passed and repassed through the
+gate-way, a furnished chamber was to let. Preceded by a
+masculine-looking woman, the Captain climbed the stair-way with its
+great wooden balusters, perfumed by a strong odor of the stable, and
+reached a great tiled room, whose walls were covered with a bizarre
+paper representing, printed in blue on a white background and repeated
+infinitely, the picture of Joseph Poniatowski crossing the Elster on his
+horse. This monotonous decoration, recalling nevertheless our military
+glories, fascinated the Captain without doubt, for, without concerning
+himself with the uncomfortable straw chairs, the walnut furniture, or
+the little bed with its yellowed curtain, he took the room without
+hesitation. A quarter of an hour was enough to empty his trunk, hang up
+his clothes, put his boots in a corner, and ornament the wall with a
+trophy composed of three pipes, a sabre, and a pair of pistols. After a
+visit to the grocer's, over the way, where he bought a pound of candles
+and a bottle of rum, he returned, put his purchase on the mantle-shelf,
+and looked around him with an air of perfect satisfaction. And then,
+with the promptitude of the camp, he shaved without a mirror, brushed
+his coat, cocked his hat over his ear, and went for a walk in the
+village in search of a café.
+
+
+II.
+
+It was an inveterate habit of the Captain to spend much of his time at a
+café. It was there that he satisfied at the same time the three vices
+which reigned supreme in his heart--tobacco, absinthe, and cards. It was
+thus that he passed his life, and he could have drawn a plan of all the
+places where he had ever been stationed by their tobacco shops, cafés,
+and military clubs. He never felt himself so thoroughly at ease as when
+sitting on a worn velvet bench before a square of green cloth near a
+heap of beer-mugs and saucers. His cigar never seemed good unless he
+struck his match under the marble of the table, and he never failed,
+after hanging his hat and his sabre on a hat-hook and settling himself
+comfortably, by unloosing one or two buttons of his coat, to breathe a
+profound sigh of relief, and exclaim,
+
+"That is better!"
+
+His first care was, therefore, to find an establishment which he could
+frequent, and after having gone around the village without finding
+anything that suited him, he stopped at last to regard with the eye of a
+connoisseur the Café Prosper, situated at the corner of the Place du
+Marché and the Rue de la Pavoisse.
+
+It was not his ideal. Some of the details of the exterior were too
+provincial: the waiter, in his black apron, for example, the little
+stands in their green frames, the footstools, and the wooden tables
+covered with waxed cloth. But the interior pleased the Captain. He was
+delighted upon his entrance by the sound of the bell which was touched
+by the fair and fleshy dame du comptoir, in her light dress, with a
+poppy-colored ribbon in her sleek hair. He saluted her gallantly, and
+believed that she sustained with sufficient majesty her triumphal place
+between two piles of punch-bowls properly crowned by billiard-balls. He
+ascertained that the place was cheerful, neat, and strewn evenly with
+yellow sand. He walked around it, looking at himself in the glasses as
+he passed; approved the panels where guardsmen and amazons were drinking
+champagne in a landscape filled with red holly-hocks; called for his
+absinthe, smoked, found the divan soft and the absinthe good, and was
+indulgent enough not to complain of the flies who bathed themselves in
+his glass with true rustic familiarity.
+
+Eight days later he had become one of the pillars of the Café Prosper.
+
+They soon learned his punctual habits and anticipated his wishes, while
+he, in turn, lunched with the patrons of the place--a valuable recruit
+for those who haunted the café, folks oppressed by the tedium of a
+country life, for whom the arrival of that new-comer, past master in all
+games, and an admirable raconteur of his wars and his loves, was a true
+stroke of good-fortune. The Captain himself was delighted to tell his
+stories to folks who were still ignorant of his repertoire. There were
+fully six months before him in which to tell of his games, his feats,
+his battles, the retreat of Constantine, the capture of Bou-Maza, and
+the officers' receptions with the concomitant intoxication of rum-punch.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Human weakness! He was by no means sorry, on his part, to be something
+of an oracle; he from whom the sub-lieutenants, new-comers at Saint-Cyr,
+fled dismayed, fearing his long stories.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+His usual auditors were the keeper of the café, a stupid and silent
+beer-cask, always in his sleeved vest, and remarkable only for his
+carved pipe; the bailiff, a scoffer, dressed invariably in black,
+scorned for his inelegant habit of carrying off what remained of his
+sugar; the town-clerk, the gentleman of acrostics, a person of much
+amiability and a feeble constitution, who sent to the illustrated
+journals solutions of enigmas and rebuses; and, lastly, the veterinary
+surgeon of the place, the only one who, from his position of atheist and
+democrat, was allowed to contradict the Captain. This practitioner, a
+man with tufted whiskers and eye-glasses, presided over the radical
+committee of electors, and when the curé took up a little collection
+among his devotees for the purpose of adorning his church with some
+frightful red and gilded statues, denounced, in a letter to the
+_Siècle_, the cupidity of the Jesuits.
+
+The Captain having gone out one evening for some cigars after an
+animated political discussion, the aforesaid veterinary grumbled to
+himself certain phrases of heavy irritation concerning "coming to the
+point," and "a mere fencing-master," and "cutting a figure." But as the
+object of these vague menaces suddenly returned, whistling a march and
+beating time with his cane, the incident was without result.
+
+In short, the group lived harmoniously together, and willingly permitted
+themselves to be presided over by the new-comer, whose white beard and
+martial bearing were quite impressive. And the small city, proud of so
+many things, was also proud of its retired Captain.
+
+
+III.
+
+Perfect happiness exists nowhere, and Captain Mercadier, who believed
+that he had found it at the Café Prosper, soon recovered from his
+illusion.
+
+For one thing, on Mondays, the market-day, the Café Prosper was
+untenantable.
+
+From early morning it was overrun with truck-peddlers, farmers, and
+poultrymen. Heavy men with coarse voices, red necks, and great whips in
+their hands, wearing blue blouses and otter-skin caps, bargaining over
+their cups, stamping their feet, striking their fists, familiar with the
+servant, and bungling at billiards.
+
+When the Captain came, at eleven o'clock, for his first glass of
+absinthe, he found this crowd gathered, and already half-drunk, ordering
+a quantity of lunches. His usual place was taken, and he was served
+slowly and badly. The bell was continually sounding, and the proprietor
+and the waiter, with napkins under their arms, were running distractedly
+hither and thither. In short, it was an ill-omened day, which upset his
+entire existence.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Now, one Monday morning, when he was resting quietly at home, being sure
+that the café would be much too full and busy, the mild radiance of the
+autumn sun persuaded him to go down and sit upon the stone seat by the
+side of the house. He was sitting there, depressed and smoking a damp
+cigar, when he saw coming down the end of the street--it was a badly
+paved lane leading out into the country--a little girl of eight or ten,
+driving before her a half-dozen geese.
+
+As the Captain looked carelessly at the child he saw that she had a
+wooden leg.
+
+There was nothing paternal in the heart of the soldier. It was that of a
+hardened bachelor. In former days, in the streets of Algiers, when the
+little begging Arabs pursued him with their importunate prayers, the
+Captain had often chased them away with blows from his whip; and on
+those rare occasions when he had penetrated the nomadic household of
+some comrade who was married and the father of a family, he had gone
+away cursing the crying babies and awkward children who had touched with
+their greasy hands the gilding on his uniform.
+
+But the sight of that particular infirmity, which recalled to him the
+sad spectacle of wounds and amputations, touched, on that account, the
+old soldier. He felt almost a constriction of the heart at the sight of
+that sorry creature, half-clothed in her tattered petticoats and old
+chemise, bravely running along behind her geese, her bare foot in the
+dust, and limping on her ill-made wooden stump.
+
+The geese, recognizing their home, turned into the poultry-yard, and the
+little one was about to follow them when the Captain stopped her with
+this question:
+
+"Eh! little girl, what's your name?"
+
+"Pierette, monsieur, at your service," she answered, looking at him with
+her great black eyes, and pushing her disordered locks from her
+forehead.
+
+"You live in this house, then? I haven't seen you before."
+
+"Yes, I know you pretty well, though, for I sleep under the stairs, and
+you wake me up every evening when you come home."
+
+"Is that so, my girl? Ah, well, I must walk on my toes in future. How
+old are you?"
+
+"Nine, monsieur, come All-Saints day."
+
+"Is the landlady here a relative of yours?"
+
+"No, monsieur, I am in service."
+
+"And they give you?"
+
+"Soup, and a bed under the stairs."
+
+"And how came you to be lame like that, my poor little one?"
+
+"By the kick of a cow when I was five."
+
+"Have you a father or mother?"
+
+The child blushed under her sunburned skin. "I came from the Foundling
+Hospital," she said, briefly. Then, with an awkward courtesy, she passed
+limping into the house, and the Captain heard, as she went away on the
+pavement of the court, the hard sound of the little wooden leg.
+
+Good heavens! he thought, mechanically walking towards his café, that's
+not at all the thing. A soldier, at least, they pack off to the
+Invalides, with the money from his medal to keep him in tobacco. For an
+officer, they fix up a collectorship, and he marries somewhere in the
+provinces. But this poor girl, with such an infirmity,--that's not at
+all the thing!
+
+Having established in these terms the injustice of fate, the Captain
+reached the threshold of his dear café, but he saw there such a mob of
+blue blouses, he heard such a din of laughter and click of
+billiard-balls, that he returned home in very bad humor.
+
+His room--it was, perhaps, the first time that he had spent in it
+several hours of the day--looked rather shabby. His bed-curtains were
+the color of an old pipe. The fireplace was heaped with old
+cigar-stumps, and one could have written his name in the dust on the
+furniture. He contemplated for some time the walls where the sublime
+lancer of Leipsic rode a hundred times to a glorious death. Then, for an
+occupation, he passed his wardrobe in review. It was a lamentable series
+of bottomless pockets, socks full of holes, and shirts without buttons.
+
+"I must have a servant," he said.
+
+Then he thought of the little lame girl.
+
+"That's what I'll do. I'll hire the next little room; winter is coming,
+and the little thing will freeze under the stairs. She will look after
+my clothes and my linen and keep the barracks clean. A valet, how's
+that?"
+
+But a cloud darkened the comfortable picture. The Captain remembered
+that quarter-day was still a long way off, and that his account at the
+Cafe Prosper was assuming alarming proportions.
+
+"Not rich enough," he said to himself. "And in the mean time they are
+robbing me down there. That is positive. The board is too high, and that
+wretch of a veterinary plays bezique much too well. I have paid his way
+now for eight days. Who knows? Perhaps I had better put the little one
+in charge of the mess, soup au café in the morning, stew at noon, and
+ragout every evening--campaign life, in fact. I know all about that.
+Quite the thing to try."
+
+Going out he saw at once the mistress of the house, a great brutal
+peasant, and the little lame girl, who both, with pitchforks in their
+hands, were turning over the dung-heap in the yard.
+
+"Does she know how to sew, to wash, to make soup?" he asked, brusquely.
+
+"Who--Pierette? Why?"
+
+"Does she know a little of all that?"
+
+"Of course. She came from an asylum where they learn how to take care of
+themselves."
+
+"Tell me, little one," added the Captain, speaking to the child, "I am
+not scaring you--no? Well, my good woman, will you let me have her? I
+want a servant."
+
+"If you will support her."
+
+"Then that is finished. Here are twenty francs. Let her have to-night a
+dress and a shoe. To-morrow we'll arrange the rest."
+
+And, with a friendly tap on Pierette's cheek, the Captain went off,
+delighted that everything was concluded. Possibly he thought he would
+have to cut off some glasses of beer and absinthe, and be cautious of
+the veterinary's skill at bezique. But that was not worth speaking of,
+and the new arrangement would be quite the thing.
+
+
+IV.
+
+Captain, you are a coward!
+
+Such was the apostrophe with which the caryatides of the Café Prosper
+hereafter greeted the Captain, whose visits became rarer day by day.
+
+For the poor man had not seen all the consequences of his good action.
+The suppression of his morning absinthe had been sufficient to cover the
+modest expense of Pierette's keeping, but how many other reforms were
+needed to provide for the unforeseen expenses of his bachelor
+establishment! Full of gratitude, the little girl wished to prove it by
+her zeal. Already the aspect of his room was changed. The furniture was
+dusted and arranged, the fireplace cleaned, the floor polished, and
+spiders no longer spun their webs over the deaths of Poniatowski in the
+corner. When the Captain came home the inviting odor of cabbage-soup
+saluted him on the staircase, and the sight of the smoking plates on the
+coarse but white table-cloth, with a bunch of flowers and polished
+table-ware, was quite enough to give him a good appetite. Pierette
+profited by the good-humor of her master to confess some of her secret
+ambitions. She wanted andirons for the fireplace, where there was now
+always a fire burning, and a mould for the little cakes that she knew
+how to make so well. And the Captain, smiling at the child's requests,
+but charmed with the homelike atmosphere of his room, promised to think
+of it, and on the morrow replaced his Londres by cigars for a sou each,
+hesitated to offer five points at ecarté, and refused his third glass
+of beer or his second glass of chartreuse.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Certainly the struggle was long; it was cruel. Often, when the hour came
+for the glass that was denied him by economy, when thirst seized him by
+the throat, the Captain was forced to make an heroic effort to withdraw
+his hand already reaching out towards the swan's beak of the café; many
+times he wandered about, dreaming of the king turned up and of quint and
+quatorze. But he almost always courageously returned home; and as he
+loved Pierette more through every sacrifice that he made for her, he
+embraced her more fondly every day. For he did embrace her. She was no
+longer his servant. When once she stood before him at the table, calling
+him "Monsieur," and so respectful in her bearing, he could not stand it,
+but seizing her by her two hands, he said to her, eagerly:
+
+"First embrace me, and then sit down and do me the pleasure of speaking
+familiarly, confound it!"
+
+And so to-day it is accomplished. Meeting a child has saved that man
+from an ignominious age.
+
+He has substituted for his old vices a young passion. He adores the
+little lame girl who skips around him in his room, which is comfortable
+and well furnished.
+
+He has already taught Pierette to read, and, moreover, recalling his
+calligraphy as a sergeant-major, he has set her copies in writing. It is
+his greatest joy when the child, bending attentively over her paper, and
+sometimes making a blot which she quickly licks up with her tongue, has
+succeeded in copying all the letters of an interminable adverb in
+_ment_. His uneasiness is in thinking that he is growing old and has
+nothing to leave his adopted child.
+
+And so he becomes almost a miser; he theorizes; he wishes to give up his
+tobacco, although Pierette herself fills and lights his pipe for him. He
+counts on saving from his slender income enough to purchase a little
+stock of fancy goods. Then when he is dead she can live an obscure and
+tranquil life, hanging up somewhere in the back room of the small shop
+an old cross of the Legion of Honor, her souvenir of the Captain.
+
+Every day he goes to walk with her on the rampart. Sometimes they are
+passed by folks who are strangers in the village, who look with
+compassionate surprise at the old soldier, spared from the wars, and the
+poor lame child. And he is moved--oh, so pleasantly, almost to
+tears--when one of the passers-by whispers, as they pass:
+
+"Poor father! Yet how pretty his daughter is."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+TWO CLOWNS.
+
+[Illustration: TWO CLOWNS]
+
+
+The night was clear and glittering with stars, and there was a crowd
+upon the market-place. They crowded in gaping delight around the tent of
+some strolling acrobats, where red and smoking lanterns lighted the
+performance which was just beginning. Rolling their muscular limbs in
+dirty wraps, and decorated from head to foot with tawdry ruffles of fur,
+the athletes--four boyish ruffians with vulgar heads--were ranged in
+line before the painted canvas which represented their exploits; they
+stood there with their heads down, their legs apart, and their muscular
+arms crossed upon their chests. Near them the marshal of the
+establishment, an old sub-officer, with the drooping mustache of a
+brandy-drinker, belted in at the waist, a heart of red cloth on his
+leather breastplate, leaned on a pair of foils. The feminine attraction,
+a rose in her hair, with a man's overcoat protecting her against the
+freshness of the evening air over her ballet-dancer's dress, played at
+the same time the cymbals and the big bass-drum a desperate
+accompaniment to three measures of a polka, always the same, which were
+murdered by a blind clarionet player; and the ringmaster, a sort of
+Hercules with the face of a galley-slave, a Silenus in scarlet drawers,
+roared out his furious appeal in a loud voice. Mixed with the crowd of
+loafers, soldiers, and women, I regarded the abject spectacle with
+disgust--the last vestige of the olympic games.
+
+Suddenly the music ceased, and the crowd broke into roars of laughter.
+The clown had just made his appearance.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+He wore the ordinary costume of his kind, the short vest and
+many-colored stockings of the peasants of the opera comique, the three
+horns turned backward, the red wig with its turned-up queue and its
+butterfly on the end. He was a young man, but alas, his face, whitened
+with flour, was already seamed with vice. Planting himself before the
+public, and opening his mouth in a silly grin, he showed bleeding gums
+almost devoid of teeth. The ringmaster kicked him violently from behind.
+
+"Come in," he said, tranquilly.
+
+Then the traditional dialogue, punctuated by slaps in the face, began
+between the mountebank and his clown, and the entire audience applauded
+these souvenirs of the classic farce, fallen from the theatre to the
+stage of the mountebank, and whose humor, coarse but pungent, seemed a
+drunken echo of the laughter of Molière. The clown exerted his low
+talent, throwing out at each moment some low jest, some immodest pun, to
+which his master, simulating a prudish indignation, responded by thumps
+on the head. But the adroit clown excelled in the art of receiving
+affronts. He knew to perfection how to bend his body like a bow under
+the impulse of a kick, and having received on one cheek a full-armed
+blow, he stuffed his tongue at once in that cheek and began to whine
+until a new blow passed the artificial swelling into the other cheek.
+Blows showered on him as thick as hail, and, disappearing under a shower
+of slaps, the flour on his face and the red powder of his wig enveloped
+him like a cloud. At last he exhausted all his resources of low
+scurrility, ridiculous contortions, grotesque grimaces, pretended aches,
+falls at full length, etc., till the ringmaster, judging this gratuitous
+show long enough, and that the public were sufficiently fascinated, sent
+him off with a final cuff.
+
+Then the music began again with such violence that the painted canvas
+trembled. The clown, having seized the sticks of a drum fixed on one of
+the beams of the scaffolding, mingled a triumphant rataplan with the
+bombardment of the bass-drum, the cracked thunder of the cymbals, and
+the distracted wail of the clarionet. The ringmaster, roaring again with
+his heavy voice, announced that the show was about to begin, and, as a
+sign of defiance, he threw two or three old fencing-gloves among his
+fellow-wrestlers. The crowd rushed into the tent, and soon only a small
+group of loungers remained in front of the deserted stage.
+
+I was just going off, when I noticed by my side an old woman who looked
+with strange persistence at the empty stage where the red lights were
+still burning. She wore the linen bonnet and the crossed fichu of the
+poorer class of women, and her whole appearance was that of neatness and
+honesty. Asking myself what powerful interest could hold her in such a
+place, I looked at her with more attention, and I saw that her eyes were
+full of tears, and that her hands, which she had crossed over her
+breast, were trembling with emotion.
+
+"What is the matter with you?" I said, coming near to her, impelled by
+an instinctive sympathy.
+
+"The matter, good sir?" cried the old woman, bursting into tears.
+"Passing by this market-place--oh, quite by chance, I tell you (I have
+no heart for pleasure)--passing before that dreadful tent, I have just
+seen in the wretch who has received all those blows my only son, sir, my
+sole child! It is the grief of my life, do you see? I never knew what
+had become of him since--oh, since my poor husband sent him away to sea
+as a cabin-boy. He was apprenticed to an ironmonger, sir. He robbed his
+master--he, the son of two honest people. As for me, I would have
+pardoned him. You know what mothers are. But my man, when they came and
+told him that his son had stolen, he was like a madman. It was that that
+killed him, I am sure. I have never seen the unhappy child again. For
+five years I have heard nothing from him. I sought to deceive myself. I
+said experience will reform him, and there--there--just now--"
+
+And the poor old woman sobbed in a pitiful way. A crowd had formed. It
+was no longer to me that she spoke; it was not to the crowd; it was to
+herself, to the bitterness of her own heart.
+
+"He, my Adrien, the child that I nourished at my own breast, a
+mountebank in a travelling theatre! struck and insulted before the whole
+world! He, whom I saved at four when he was so ill, a clown in a tent!
+He, the beautiful baby of whom I was so proud, whom I made the neighbors
+admire when he was so small that he rolled naked on my knee, holding his
+little foot in his hand!"
+
+Suddenly at this point in her heart-breaking monologue the old woman
+perceived the crowd listening to her. She looked on the spectators in
+astonishment, as one who starts from sleep. She recognized me who had
+questioned her, and became frightfully pale.
+
+"What have I said?" she stammered. "Let me pass." And brusquely putting
+us aside with an imperious gesture, she went off with a rapid step, and
+disappeared in the night.
+
+The adventure made a lively impression on me. I thought often of it, and
+after that, when I saw before my eyes some wretched and degraded
+creature, some woman of the street, trailing her light silk skirts in
+the flare of a gas-jet, some drunken idler leaning on the bar of a café
+and bending his bloated face over his glass of absinthe, I have thought,
+"Is it possible that that being can ever have been a little child?"
+
+Now, some little time after that _rencontre_--let us be careful not to
+indicate the date--I was taken into a gallery of the Chamber of Deputies
+to be present at a sensational sitting. The law that they were
+discussing on that day is of no importance, but it was the old and
+tedious story: a Ministerial candidate, formerly in the Opposition,
+proposed to strike a blow at some liberty--I don't know what--which he
+had formerly demanded with virulence and force. And, more than that, the
+man in power was going to forfeit his word to the tribune. In good
+French that is called "to betray," but in parliamentary language they
+employ the phrase, "accomplish a change of base." Opinion was divided,
+the majority uncertain; and upon his speech would depend the political
+future of the speaker. Therefore, on that day, the legislators were in
+their places, and the Chamber did not resemble, as usual, a class of
+noisy boys presided over by a master without authority. The
+lunch-counter was deserted, and the deputies of the Centre themselves
+were not absorbed in their personal correspondence.
+
+The orator mounted the tribune. He had the commonplace figure of a
+verbose orator: bold eye, protruding lips, as enlarged by the abuse of
+words. He began by fingering his notes with an important air, tasting
+the glass of sweetened water, and settling himself in his place; then he
+started a babble of words without sense, with the nauseous facility of
+the bar; misusing vague ideas, abstract terms, and words in _ly_ and
+_ion_, stereotyped words, and ready-made phrases. A flattering murmur
+greeted the end of his exordium; for the French people in general, and
+the political world in particular, manifest a depraved taste for that
+sort of eloquence. Encouraged, the fine speaker entered the heart of his
+subject, and cynically sang his recantation. He abjured none of his
+opinions, he repudiated none of his acts; he would always remain liberal
+(a blow on his chest), but that which was good yesterday might be
+dangerous to-day; truth on the other side of the Alps, error on this
+side. The forbearance of the Government was abused. And he threatened
+the assembly; became prophet; let loose the dogs of war. He even risked
+a bit of poetry, flourished old metaphors, which were worn out in the
+time of Cicero, and compared by turn, in the same phrase, his political
+career to a pilot, a steed, and a torch. So much poetry could only
+accentuate his success. There was a salvo of bravos, and the Opposition
+grumbled, foreseeing their defeat. Violent interruptions broke forth:
+furious voices recalled the orator's past life, and threw as insults his
+former professions in his face. He was unmoved, and stood with a
+disdainful air, which was very effective. Then the bravos redoubled, and
+he smiled vaguely, thinking, no doubt, of the proof-sheets of the
+_Officiel_, where he could by-and-by insert in the margin, without too
+much exaggeration, "profound sensation" and "prolonged applause." Then,
+when quiet was re-established, sure of his success, he affected a serene
+majesty. He took up again his discourse, soaring like a goose, launching
+out with high doctrine, citing Royer-Collard.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+But I heard no more. The scandalous spectacle of that political
+mountebank, who sacrificed eternal principles to the interests of the
+day, recalled to my memory the tent of the acrobats. The cold rhetoric
+of that harangue, vibrating with neither truth nor emotion, recalled to
+me the patter, learned by heart, of the powdered clown on the stage. The
+superb air which the orator assumed under the rain of reproaches and
+insults singularly resembled the indifference of the clown to the loud
+slaps on his face. Those sonorous phrases, whose echoes had just died
+away, sounded as false as a strolling band. The word "liberty" rolled
+like the bass-drum, "public interests" and "welfare of the State"
+clanged discordantly like the cymbals, and when the comedian spoke of
+his "patriotism" I almost heard the _couac_ of a clarionet.
+
+A long uproar woke me from my revery. The speech was finished, and the
+orator, having descended from the rostrum, was receiving
+congratulations. They were about to vote: the urns were being passed
+around, but the result was certain, and the crowd of tribunes was
+already dispersing.
+
+As I went across the vestibule I saw an elderly lady dressed in black.
+She was dressed like a wealthy bourgeoise and appeared radiant. I
+stopped one of the well-groomed little chaps whom one sees trotting
+around in the Ministerial corridors. I knew him slightly, and I asked
+him who that lady was.
+
+"The mother of the orator," he replied, with official emotion. "She must
+be very proud."
+
+Very proud! The old mother who wept so bitterly in the market-place was
+not that; and if the mother of his future Excellency had reflected, she
+would have regretted--she too--the time when her boy was very small, and
+rolled naked on her knee, holding his little foot in his hand.
+
+But, bah! everything is relative, even shame.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+A VOLUNTARY DEATH.
+
+[Illustration: A VOLUNTARY DEATH]
+
+
+I knew the poet Louis Miraz very well, in the old times in the Latin
+Quarter, where we used to take our meals together at a crémerie on the
+Rue de Seine, kept by an old Polish woman whom we nicknamed the Princess
+Chocolawska, on account of the enormous bowl of créme and chocolate
+which she exposed daily in the show-window of her shop. It was possible
+to dine there for ten sous, with "two breads," an "ordinaire for thirty
+centimes," and a "small coffee."
+
+Some who were very nice spent a sou more for a napkin.
+
+Besides some young men who were destined to become geniuses, the
+ordinary guests of the crémerie were some poor compatriots of the
+proprietress, who had all to some extent commanded armies. There was,
+above all, an imposing and melancholy old fellow with a white beard,
+whose old befrogged cloak, shabby boots, and old hat, which looked as if
+snails had crawled over it, presented a poem of misery, and whom the
+other Poles treated with a marked respect, for he had been a dictator
+for three days.
+
+It was, moreover, at the Princess Chocolawska's that I knew a singular
+fool, who gained his bread by giving German lessons, and declared
+himself a convert to Buddhism. On the mantle of the miserable room,
+where he lived with a milliner of Saint-Germain, was enthroned an ugly
+little Buddha in jade, fixing his hypnotized eyes on his navel, and
+holding his great toes in his hands. The German professor accorded to
+the idol the most profound veneration, but on the epoch of quarter-day
+he was sometimes forced to carry him to the Mont-de-piété, upon which
+he fell into a state of sombre chagrin, and did not recover his serenity
+until he was able to make amends for his impious act. He never failed,
+moreover, to renew his avowals in prosperous times, and finally to take
+his god out of pawn.
+
+As to Louis Miraz, he had the deep eyes, the pale complexion, and the
+long and dishevelled hair of all those young men who come to town in
+third-class carriages to conquer glory, who spend more for midnight oil
+than for beefsteaks, and who, rich already with some manuscripts, have
+thrown out to great Paris from the height of some hill in its environs
+the classic defiance of Rastignac. At that time my hair was archaic
+enough in length to grease the collar of my coat. Thus we were made to
+understand each other, and Louis Miraz soon took me to his attic-room in
+the Rue des Quatre-Vents, where he dragged two thousand alexandrines
+over me.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Seriously, they were fresh and charming verses, with the inspiration of
+spring-tide, having the perfume of the first lilacs, and _Forest Birds_
+(the title of that collection of poems which Louis Miraz published a
+little while after he read them to me) will retain a place among the
+volumes in the first rank of belles-lettres, by the side of those poets
+of a single book--of the Daudet of the Amoureuses, for example.
+
+For Miraz wrote no more verse. A young eaglet seeking the upper air, he
+made his eyrie on the summit of Montmartre, and for quite a while we
+lost sight of him. Then I found his name again in Sunday journals and
+reviews, when he began to write those short and exquisite sketches which
+have made his reputation. Thus five years passed, when I met him one day
+in the editor's office of a journal for which I worked.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Each of us was as much pleased as the other at thus meeting again; and
+after the first "What, is that you? Is that you?" we stood facing each
+other, shaking hands, and exposing, in a laugh of cordial delight, our
+teeth, which in old times we used to exercise on the same crust of
+poverty. He had not changed. He had not even sacrificed his long hair,
+which he threw back with the graceful movement of a horse who tosses his
+mane. Only he had the clear complexion and calm eye of a contented man,
+and his slim figure was clad in most fashionable costume.
+
+"We won't drift apart again, will we?" said he, affectionately, taking
+me by the arm; and he led me out in the boulevard, where the April sun
+gilded the young leaves of the plane-trees.
+
+Ah, happy day! How we exhausted the "Don't you remembers?" "Do you
+remember the fried eggs which tasted of straw, and the dreadful
+rice-milk of the Princess Chocolawska? and the melancholy air of the old
+dictator? and the German who used to pawn his god every three months?"
+At last those days of hardship were finished. He had from afar applauded
+my success, as I had watched his. But one thing I did not know, and that
+was that he had married a woman whom he adored, and that he had a
+charming little girl.
+
+"Come and see them; you shall dine with me."
+
+I let myself be persuaded, and he carried me down to the Enclos des
+Ternes, where he lived in a cottage among the trees. There everything
+made you welcome. No sooner had we opened the door of the garden than a
+young dog frisked about our feet.
+
+"Down, Gavroche! He will soil your clothes."
+
+But at the sound of the bell Madame Miraz appeared at the steps with her
+little daughter in her arms. An imposing and beautiful blond, her
+well-moulded figure wrapped in a blue gown.
+
+"Put on a plate more. I've an old comrade with me."
+
+And the happy father, keeping his hat on his head and carrying his
+little girl, showed me all over his establishment--the dining-room,
+brightened by light bits of faience, the study, abounding in books, with
+its window opening out on the green turf, so that a puff of wind had
+strewn with rose-leaves the printer's proofs which were scattered on the
+table.
+
+"This is only a beginning, you know. It wasn't so long ago that we were
+working for three sous a line."
+
+And while I luxuriated under a blossoming Judas-tree which I saw in the
+garden, Miraz, at ease in his home, had slipped into his working-vest,
+put on his slippers, and, lying on his sofa, caught little Helen in his
+arms to toss her in the air--"Houp la! Houp la!"
+
+I do not remember ever to have had a more perfect impression of
+contentment. We dined pleasantly--two good courses, that was all; a
+dinner without pretence, where we served ourselves with the pepper-mill.
+The charming Madame Miraz presided with her bright smile, having her
+child by her side in a high-chair. She spoke but little, but her sweet
+and intelligent attention followed our light and paradoxical chat, the
+good-humored fooling of men of letters; and at the dessert she took a
+rose from the bouquet which ornamented the table, and placed it in her
+hair near her ear with a supreme grace. She was indeed that lovely and
+silent friend whom a dreamer requires.
+
+We took our coffee in the study--they intended to furnish the salon very
+soon with the price of a story to be published by Levy--then, as the
+evening was cool, a fire of sticks and twigs was built, and while we
+smoked, Miraz and I, recalling old memories, the mistress of the house,
+holding on her knees little Helen, now ready for bed, made her repeat
+"Our Father" and "Hail Mary," which the little one lisped, rubbing her
+little feet together before the warm flame.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+We saw each other again, often at first, then less frequently, the
+difficult and complicated life of literary labor taking us each his own
+way. So the years passed. We met, shook hands. "Everything going well?"
+"Splendidly." And that was all. Then, later, I found the name of Louis
+Miraz but rarely in the journals and periodicals. "Happy man; he is
+resting," I said to myself, remembering that he was spoken of as having
+made a small fortune. Finally, last autumn, I learned that he was
+seriously ill.
+
+I hurried to see him. He still lived at the Enclos des Ternes; but on
+this sombre day of the last of November the little house seemed cold,
+and looked naked among the leafless trees. It seemed to me shrunken and
+diminished, like everything that we have not seen for a long time.
+
+The dog was probably dead, for his bark no longer answered the sound of
+the bell when I passed the little gate and entered the garden, all
+strewn with dead leaves where the night's frost had withered the last
+chrysanthemums.
+
+It was not Madame Miraz--she was absent--it was Helen who received me,
+Helen, who had grown to be a great girl of fourteen, with an awkward
+manner. She opened for me the door of her father's study, and brusquely
+lifting her great black eyelashes, turned on me a timid and distressed
+glance.
+
+I found Miraz huddled in an easy-chair in the corner of the fireplace,
+wrapped in a sort of bed-gown, with gray locks streaking his long hair;
+and by the cold, clammy hand which he reached towards me, by the pallid
+face which he turned upon me, I knew that he was lost. Horrible! I found
+in my unhappy comrade that worn and ruined look which used to strike us
+formerly among the poor Poles of the crémerie.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Ah, well, old man, things are not going well?"
+
+"Deucedly bad, my boy," he answered, with a heart-breaking smile. "I am
+going out stupidly with consumption, as they do in the fifth act, you
+know, when the venerable doctor, with a head like Béranger, feels the
+first walking gentleman's pulse, and lifts his eyes towards heaven,
+saying, 'The death-struggle approaches!' Only the difference is that
+with me it continues; it will not conclude, the death-struggle. Smoke
+away; that doesn't disturb me," he added, seeing me put my cigar one
+side, his cough sounding like a death-rattle.
+
+I tried to find encouraging words. I talked with him, holding him by the
+hand and patting him affectionately on the shoulder; but my voice had in
+my own ears the empty hollowness of deceit, and Miraz, looking at me,
+seemed to pity my efforts.
+
+I was silent.
+
+"Look," said he, pointing to his table; "see my work-bench. For six
+months I have not been able to write."
+
+It was true. Nothing could be more sad than that heap of papers covered
+with dust, and in an old Roman plate there was a bundle of pens, crusted
+with ink, and like those trophies of rusty foils which hang on the walls
+of old fencers.
+
+I made a new attempt to revive him. Die! at his age. Nonsense! He wasn't
+taking care of himself. He must pass the winter in the South, drink a
+good draught of sunlight. He could. He was easy in his money matters.
+
+But he stopped me, putting his hand on my arm.
+
+"Listen," he said, gravely, "we have seen each other seldom, but you are
+my oldest, perhaps my best, friend. You have proved me pen in hand.
+Well, I am going to tell you something in confidence, for you to keep to
+yourself, unless it may serve on some occasion to discourage the young
+literary aspirants who bring their manuscripts to you--always a
+praiseworthy action. Yes, I have been successful. Yes, I have been paid
+a franc a line. Yes, I have made money, and there in that drawer are a
+certain number of yellow, green, and red papers from which a bit is
+clipped every six months, and which represent three or four thousand
+francs of income. It is rare in our profession, and to gain that poor
+hoard I have been obliged--I, a poet--to imitate the unsociable virtues
+of a bourgeois, know how to deny a jewel to my wife, a dress to my
+daughter. At last I have that money. And I often said to myself, if I
+should die their bread is assured, and here is a little marriage portion
+for Helen! And I was content--I was proud!--for I know them, the stories
+of our widows and our orphans, the fourpenny help of the government, the
+tobacco shops for six hundred francs in the province, and, if the
+daughter is intelligent and pretty like mine, the dramatic author, an
+old friend of the father, who advises her to enter the Conservatoire,
+and who makes of her--mercy of God! that shall never be. But for all
+that, my boy, it is necessary that I should not linger. Sickness is
+expensive, and already it has been necessary to sell one or two bonds
+from that drawer. To seek the sunlight, as you suggest, to bask like a
+lizard at Cannes or at Menton, one more bond must go, and there would
+not be enough to last to the end, if I should wait for seven or eight
+years more, now that I can no longer write. Happily, there is nothing to
+fear. But what I have suffered since I have been incapable of writing,
+and have felt my hoard of gold shrink and diminish in my hand like the
+Magic Skin of Balzac, is frightful. Now you understand me, do you not?
+and you will no longer bid me take care of myself. No; if you still pray
+to God, ask him to send me speedily to the undertaker's."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Fifteen days later some thirty of us followed the hearse which carried
+Louis Miraz to the Cemetery Montmartre. It had snowed the day before,
+and Doctor Arnould, the old frequenter of painters' studios, the friend
+and physician of the dead man, walking behind me, called in his brusque
+voice,
+
+"Very commonplace, but always terrible the contrast: a burial in the
+snow--black on white. The Funeral of the Poor, by the late Vigneron,
+isn't to be ridiculed. Brr!"
+
+At last we came to the edge of the grave. The place and the time were
+sad. Under a cloudy sky the little yew-trees, swayed by the wind, threw
+down their burdens of melted snow. The by-standers had formed a circle,
+and were watching the grave-diggers, who were lowering the coffin by
+cords. Near a cross-bearer, whose short surplice permitted the bottom of
+his trousers to be seen, the priest waited with a finger in his book;
+and, having grasped the rim of his hat under his left arm, the orator of
+the Society of Men of Letters already held in his black-gloved hand the
+funeral oration, hastily patched up by the aid of a comrade over a
+couple of glasses at the corner of a café table.
+
+Suddenly, as the priest began his Latin prayers, Doctor Arnould seized
+me by the arm and whispered in my ear,
+
+"You know that he killed himself?"
+
+I looked at him with astonishment. But he pointed to the group in black,
+composed of Madame Miraz and her daughter, who were sobbing under their
+long veils and clasping each other in a tragic embrace, and he added,
+
+"For them. Yes, for six months he threw all his medicines in the fire,
+and designedly committed all sorts of imprudences. He confessed it to me
+before his death. I had not understood it at all--I, who had expected to
+prolong his life at least three years by creosote. At last the other
+night, when it was freezing cold, he left his window open, as if by
+forgetfulness, and was taken with bleeding at the lungs. Yes, that he
+might leave bread for those two women. The curé does not dream that he
+is blessing a suicide. But what of it, my good fellow? Miraz is in the
+paradise of the brave. The details of such a death. Eh? It is tougher
+than the passage of the Bridge of Arcole."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+A DRAMATIC FUNERAL.
+
+[Illustration: A DRAMATIC FUNERAL]
+
+
+For twenty-five years he had played the role of the villain at the
+Boulevard du Crime,[A] and his harsh voice, his nose like an eagle's
+beak, his eye with its savage glitter, had made him a good player of
+such parts. For twenty-five years, dressed in the cloak and encircled by
+the fawn-colored leather belt of Mordaunt, he had retreated with the
+step of a wounded scorpion before the sword of D'Artagnan; draped in the
+dirty Jewish gown of Rodin, he had rubbed his dry hands together,
+muttering the terrible "Patience, patience!" and, curled on the chair of
+the Duc d'Este, he had said to Lucretia Borgia, with a sufficiently
+infernal glance, "Take care and make no mistake. The flagon of gold,
+madame." When, preceded by a tremolo, he made his entry in the scene,
+the third gallery trembled, and a sigh of relief greeted the moment when
+the first walking gentleman at last said to him: "Between us two, now,"
+and immolated him for the grand triumph of virtue.
+
+[Footnote A: A nickname given to the Boulevard du Temple, on account of
+the numerous melodramatic theatres situated there.]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+But this sort of success, which is only betrayed by murmurs of horror,
+is not of the kind to make a dramatic career seductive; and besides the
+old actor had always hidden in a corner of his heart the bucolic ideal
+which is in the heart of almost all artists. He sighed for an old age of
+leisure, and the comfortable dignity of a retired shopkeeper; the house
+in the country, where he could live with his family, with melons, under
+an arbor; cakes and wine in the winter evenings; his daughter a scholar
+in a convent; his son in the uniform of the Polytechnique; and the cross
+of the Legion.
+
+Now, when we had occasion to know him, he had already nearly realized
+his dreams.
+
+After the failure of the theatre where he had been for a long time
+engaged, some capitalists had thought of him to put the enterprise on
+its feet again. With his systematic habits, his good sense, his thorough
+and practical knowledge of the business, and a sufficiently correct
+literary instinct, he became an excellent manager. He was the owner of
+stocks and a villa at Montmorency; his son was a student at
+Sainte-Barbe, and his daughter had just come out of Les Oiseaux; and if
+the malice of small newspapers had retarded his nomination in the Legion
+of Honor by recalling every year, about the first of January, his old
+ranting on the stage, when he played formerly the villains' parts, he
+could yet hope that it would not be long before the red ribbon would
+flourish in his button-hole. He had still preserved some of the habits
+of a strolling player, such as being very familiar with everybody, and
+dyeing his mustaches; but as he was, on the whole, good, honest, and
+serviceable, he conquered the esteem and friendship of those with whom
+he came in contact.
+
+So it was with sincere grief that the whole dramatic world learned one
+day the terrible sorrow which had smitten that excellent man. His
+daughter, a girl of seventeen, had died suddenly of brain-fever.
+
+We knew how he adored the child; how he had brought her up in the
+strictest principles of family and religion, far from the theatre,
+something as Triboulet hid his daughter Blanche in the little house of
+the cul-de-sac Bucy. We understood that all the hopes and ambitions of
+the man rested on the head of that charming girl, who, near all the
+corruption of the theatre, had grown up in innocence and purity, as one
+sees sometimes in the scanty grass of the faubourgs a field-flower
+spring up by the door of a hovel.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+We were among the first at the funeral, to which we had been summoned by
+a black-bordered billet.
+
+A crowd of the people of the neighborhood encumbered the street before
+the house of the dead, attracted by the pomps of the first-class funeral
+ordered by the old comedian, who had preserved the taste of the _mise en
+scène_ even in his grief. The magnificent hearse and cumbrous
+mourning-coaches were already drawn up to the sidewalk, and under the
+door, and in the shade of the heavy fringed and silvered draperies, amid
+the twinkling of burning candles, between two priests reading prayers in
+their Prayer-books, the form of the massive coffin could be seen under
+its white cloth, covered with Parma violets.
+
+As we walked among the crowd we noticed the groups formed of those who,
+like us, were waiting the departure of the cortége. There were almost
+all the actors, men and women, of Paris, who had come to pay their last
+respects to the daughter of their comrade. Undoubtedly nothing could be
+more natural; but we experienced not the less a strange sensation on
+seeing, around the coffin of that pure young girl who had breathed away
+her last breath in a prayer, the gathering of all those faces marked by
+the brand of the theatre.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+They were all there: the stars, the comedians, the lovers, the traitors;
+nobody was lacking: soubrettes, duennas, coquettes, first walking
+ladies. Wearing a sack-coat and a felt hat on his long gray hair, the
+superb adventurer of all the cloak and sword dramas leaned against the
+shutter of a shop in his familiar attitude, and crossed his arms to show
+his handsome hands; while a little old fellow with the wrinkled face of
+a clown spoke to him briskly in the broad, harsh voice which had so
+often made us explode with laughter. By the side of the aged first young
+man, who, pinched in his scanty frock-coat, and with trousers trailing
+under foot, twirled in his gloved hands his locks of over-black hair,
+stood a great handsome fellow, beautiful as a model, who had not been
+able to renounce even for that day his eccentricities of costume, and
+strutted in a black velvet cape and the boots of an equerry. Oh, how
+sad, tired, and old they seemed in the gray light of that winter
+morning, all those pathetic heads, graceful or laughable, which we were
+only in the habit of seeing when transfigured by the prestige of the
+stage. Chins had become blue-black under too frequent shaving; hair thin
+and dry under the hot iron of the hair-dresser; skins rough under the
+injurious action of unguents and vinegar; eyes dull, burned by the glare
+of foot-lights--blinded, almost fixed, like those of an owl in the
+sunlight.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The women were especially to be pitied. Obliged by the occasion to rise
+at a very early hour, and not having had the time for a careful and
+minute toilet, they gathered in groups of four or five, chilled and
+shivering in their fur mantles, muffs, and triple black veils.
+Notwithstanding the hasty rouge and powder of the morning, they were
+unrecognizable, and it required an effort of imagination to find in them
+a memory of that sublime seraglio of the Parisian theatres, exposed
+every evening to the desires of several thousand men. On all of these
+charming types appeared the mark of weariness and age. Some ossified
+into faded skeletons, others grew dull with an unhealthy weight of fat;
+wrinkles crossed the foreheads and starred the temples; lips were livid
+and eyes circled with dark rings; the complexions were particularly
+frightful--that uniform tint, morbid and sickly, the work of rouge and
+grease-paints. That heavy woman, with the head and neck of a farmer's
+wife (one almost sees a basket on her shoulder), is the terrible and
+fatal queen of grand, romantic dramas; and that small blonde and pale
+creature, so faded under her laces, and who would have completely filled
+a music-teacher's carrying roll, was the artless young woman whom all
+the vaudevillists married at the dénouement of their pieces. There were
+the dying glances of the lorette in the hospital, the pose of the old
+copyist of the Louvre, and the theatrical sneer.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Soon the cabs drove up with the functionaries connected with the
+administration of the theatre, in black hats and coats, with an official
+air of sadness; young reporters, the outflow of journalism, staring at
+everybody and taking notes; dramatic authors, Monday feuilletonists--in
+short, all of those nocturnal beings, tired and worn-out, who are
+properly called the actives of Paris.
+
+The groups became more compact, and talked animatedly. Old friends found
+each other; they shook hands, and, in view of the circumstances, smiled
+cordially, while the women saluted each other through their veils.
+
+In passing, we could catch fragments of conversation like this:
+
+"When will the affair begin?"
+
+"Were you at the opening of the Variétès yesterday?"
+
+Theatrical terms were heard--"My talents," "My charms," "My physique."
+Some business, even, was done. A new manager was quite surrounded; an
+old actress organized her benefit.
+
+Suddenly there was a movement in the crowd. The undertaker's men had
+just placed the coffin in the hearse, and the young girls of the
+Sisterhood of the Virgin, to which the dead girl had belonged, arranged
+themselves in two lines, in their white veils, at the sides of the
+funeral-car. Preceded by the master of ceremonies, in silk stockings and
+a wand of office in his hand, the poor father appeared on the pavement
+in full mourning, with a white cravat, broken down by grief and
+sustained by his friends.
+
+The procession set out and came to the parish church, fortunately near.
+
+There was a grand mass, with music which was not finished. It was too
+warm in the church stuffed with people, and the inattention was general.
+Men who recognized each other saluted with a light movement of the head;
+conversation was exchanged in a low voice; some young actors struck
+attitudes for the benefit of the women, and the pious responded to
+Dominus Vobiscum droned by the priest. At the elevation, from behind the
+altar, rang out a magnificent Pié Jesu, sung by a celebrated baritone,
+who had never put in his voice so much amorous languor. Outside the
+church-yard the small boys of the quarter stood on tiptoe, and, hanging
+on to the railings, pointed out the celebrities with their fingers.
+
+The office finished, the long defile commenced; and every one went to
+the entrance of the church to sprinkle some drops of holy-water on the
+bier, and press the hand of the old actor, who, broken by grief, and
+having hardly strength to hold his hat, leaned against a pillar.
+
+That was the most horrible moment.
+
+Carried away by the habit of playing up to the situation, all these
+theatrical people put into the token of sympathy which they gave to
+their friend the character of their employment. The star advanced
+gravely, and with a three-quarter inclination of his head flashed out
+the "Look of Fate." The old tragedian with a gray beard assumed a
+stoical expression, and did not forget to "vibrate" in pronouncing a
+masculine "Courage!" The clown approached with a short, trotting step,
+and shaking his head until his cheeks trembled, he murmured, "My poor
+old fellow." And the fairy queen, with the sensibility of a sensitive
+female, threw herself impulsively on the neck of the unhappy father,
+who, with swollen face, bloodshot eyes, and hanging lip, blackened his
+face and his gloved hands with the dye of his mustache, diluted by
+tears.
+
+And all the time, a few steps from this grotesque and sinister scene, we
+could see--last word of this antithesis--the white figures of the young
+girls of the sisterhood, kneeling on the chairs nearest the coffin of
+their companion, and who undoubtedly were beseeching God, in their
+naïve and original prayers, to grant her the paradise of their dreams:
+a pretty paradise in the Jesuitical style, all in carved and gilded
+wood, and many-colored marble, where one could see at the end a tableau
+in a transparent light; the Virgin crowned with stars, with a serpent
+under her feet, while little cherubs suspended in mid-air over her head
+an azure streamer flaming with these words: "_Ecce Regina Angelorum._"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE SUBSTITUTE.
+
+[Illustration: THE SUBSTITUTE]
+
+
+He was scarcely ten years old when he was first arrested as a vagabond.
+
+He spoke thus to the judge:
+
+"I am called Jean François Leturc, and for six months I was with the
+man who sings and plays upon a cord of catgut between the lanterns at
+the Place de la Bastille. I sang the refrain with him, and after that I
+called, 'Here's all the new songs, ten centimes, two sous!' He was
+always drunk, and used to beat me. That is why the police picked me up
+the other night. Before that I was with the man who sells brushes. My
+mother was a laundress; her name was Adéle. At one time she lived with
+a man on the ground-floor at Montmartre. She was a good work-woman and
+liked me. She made money because she had for customers waiters in the
+cafés, and they use a good deal of linen. On Sundays she used to put me
+to bed early so that she could go to the ball. On week-days she sent me
+to Les Fréres, where I learned to read. Well, the sergeant-de-ville
+whose beat was in our street used always to stop before our windows to
+talk with her--a good-looking chap, with a medal from the Crimea. They
+were married, and after that everything went wrong. He didn't take to
+me, and turned mother against me. Every one had a blow for me, and so,
+to get out of the house, I spent whole days in the Place Clichy, where I
+knew the mountebanks. My father-in-law lost his place, and my mother her
+work. She used to go out washing to take care of him; this gave her a
+cough--the steam.... She is dead at Lamboisière. She was a good woman.
+Since that I have lived with the seller of brushes and the catgut
+scraper. Are you going to send me to prison?"
+
+He said this openly, cynically, like a man. He was a little ragged
+street-arab, as tall as a boot, his forehead hidden under a queer mop of
+yellow hair.
+
+Nobody claimed him, and they sent him to the Reform School.
+
+Not very intelligent, idle, clumsy with his hands, the only trade he
+could learn there was not a good one--that of reseating straw chairs.
+However, he was obedient, naturally quiet and silent, and he did not
+seem to be profoundly corrupted by that school of vice. But when, in his
+seventeenth year, he was thrown out again on the streets of Paris, he
+unhappily found there his prison comrades, all great scamps, exercising
+their dirty professions: teaching dogs to catch rats in the the sewers,
+and blacking shoes on ball nights in the passage of the Opera--amateur
+wrestlers, who permitted themselves to be thrown by the Hercules of the
+booths--or fishing at noontime from rafts; all of these occupations he
+followed to some extent, and, some months after he came out of the house
+of correction, he was arrested again for a petty theft--a pair of old
+shoes prigged from a shop-window. Result: a year in the prison of Sainte
+Pélagie, where he served as valet to the political prisoners.
+
+He lived in much surprise among this group of prisoners, all very young,
+negligent in dress, who talked in loud voices, and carried their heads
+in a very solemn fashion. They used to meet in the cell of one of the
+oldest of them, a fellow of some thirty years, already a long time in
+prison and quite a fixture at Sainte Pélagie--a large cell, the walls
+covered with colored caricatures, and from the window of which one could
+see all Paris--its roofs, its spires, and its domes--and far away the
+distant line of hills, blue and indistinct upon the sky. There were upon
+the walls some shelves filled with volumes and all the old paraphernalia
+of a fencing-room: broken masks, rusty foils, breast-plates, and gloves
+that were losing their tow. It was there that the "politicians" used to
+dine together, adding to the everlasting "soup and beef," fruit, cheese,
+and pints of wine which Jean François went out and got by the can--a
+tumultuous repast interrupted by violent disputes, and where, during the
+dessert, the "Carmagnole" and "Ca Ira" were sung in full chorus. They
+assumed, however, an air of great dignity on those days when a newcomer
+was brought in among them, at first entertaining him gravely as a
+citizen, but on the morrow using him with affectionate familiarity, and
+calling him by his nickname. Great words were used there: Corporation,
+Responsibility, and phrases quite unintelligible to Jean François--such
+as this, for example, which he once heard imperiously put forth by a
+frightful little hunchback who blotted some writing-paper every night:
+
+"It is done. This is the composition of the Cabinet: Raymond, the Bureau
+of Public Instruction; Martial, the Interior; and for Foreign Affairs,
+myself."
+
+His time done, he wandered again around Paris, watched afar by the
+police, after the fashion of cockchafers, made by cruel children to fly
+at the end of a string. He became one of those fugitive and timid beings
+whom the law, with a sort of coquetry, arrests and releases by
+turn--something like those platonic fishers who, in order that they may
+not exhaust their fish-pond, throw immediately back in the water the
+fish which has just come out of the net. Without a suspicion on his part
+that so much honor had been done to so sorry a subject, he had a special
+bundle of memoranda in the mysterious portfolios of the Rue de
+Jérusalem. His name was written in round hand on the gray paper of the
+cover, and the notes and reports, carefully classified, gave him his
+successive appellations: "Name, Leturc;" "the prisoner Leturc," and, at
+last, "the criminal Leturc."
+
+He was two years out of prison, dining where he could, sleeping in night
+lodging-houses and sometimes in lime-kilns, and taking part with his
+fellows in interminable games of pitch-penny on the boulevards near the
+barriers: He wore a greasy cap on the back of his head, carpet slippers,
+and a short white blouse. When he had five sous he had his hair curled.
+He danced at Constant's at Montparnasse; bought for two sous to sell for
+four at the door of Bobino, the jack of hearts or the ace of clubs
+serving as a countermark; sometimes opened the door of a carriage; led
+horses to the horse-market. From the lottery of all sorts of miserable
+employments he drew a goodly number. Who can say if the atmosphere of
+honor which one breathes as a soldier, if military discipline might not
+have saved him. Taken, in a cast of the net, with some young loafers who
+robbed drunkards sleeping on the streets, he denied very earnestly
+having taken part in their expeditions. Perhaps he told the truth, but
+his antecedents were accepted in lieu of proof, and he was sent for
+three years to Poissy. There he made coarse playthings for children, was
+tattooed on the chest, learned thieves' slang and the penal-code. A new
+liberation, and a new plunge into the sink of Paris; but very short this
+time, for at the end of six months at the most he was again compromised
+in a night robbery, aggravated by climbing and breaking--a serious
+affair, in which he played an obscure role, half dupe and half fence. On
+the whole his complicity was evident, and he was sent for five years at
+hard labor. His grief in this adventure was above all in being separated
+from an old dog which he had found on a dung-heap, and cured of the
+mange. The beast loved him.
+
+Toulon, the ball and chain, the work in the harbor, the blows from a
+stick, wooden shoes on bare feet, soup of black beans dating from
+Trafalgar, no tobacco money, and the terrible sleep in a camp swarming
+with convicts; that was what he experienced for five broiling summers
+and five winters raw with the Mediterranean wind. He came out from there
+stunned, was sent under surveillance to Vernon, where he worked some
+time on the river. Then, an incorrigible vagabond, he broke his exile
+and came again to Paris. He had his savings, fifty-six francs, that is
+to say, time enough for reflection. During his absence his former
+wretched companions had dispersed. He was well hidden, and slept in a
+loft at an old woman's, to whom he represented himself as a sailor,
+tired of the sea, who had lost his papers in a recent shipwreck, and who
+wanted to try his hand at something else. His tanned face and his
+calloused hands, together with some sea phrases which he dropped from
+time to time, made his tale seem probable enough.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+One day when he risked a saunter in the streets, and when chance had led
+him as far as Montmartre, where he was born, an unexpected memory
+stopped him before the door of Les Frères, where he had learned to
+read. As it was very warm the door was open, and by a single glance the
+passing outcast was able to recognize the peaceable school-room. Nothing
+was changed: neither the bright light shining in at the great windows,
+nor the crucifix over the desk, nor the rows of benches with the tables
+furnished with ink-stands and pencils, nor the table of weights and
+measures, nor the map where pins stuck in still indicated the operations
+of some ancient war. Heedlessly and without thinking, Jean François
+read on the blackboard the words of the Evangelist which had been set
+there as a copy:
+
+"Joy shall be in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, more than over
+ninety and nine just persons, which need no repentance."
+
+It was undoubtedly the hour for recreation, for the Brother Professor
+had left his chair, and, sitting on the edge of a table, he was telling
+a story to the boys who surrounded him with eager and attentive eyes.
+What a bright and innocent face he had, that beardless young man, in his
+long black gown, and white necktie, and great ugly shoes, and his badly
+cut brown hair streaming out behind! All the simple figures of the
+children of the people who were watching him seemed scarcely less
+childlike than his; above all when, delighted with some of his own
+simple and priestly pleasantries, he broke out in an open and frank peal
+of laughter which showed his white and regular teeth, a peal so
+contagious that all the scholars laughed loudly in their turn. It was
+such a sweet, simple group in the bright sunlight, which lighted their
+dear eyes and their blond curls.
+
+Jean François looked at them for some time in silence, and for the
+first time in that savage nature, all instinct and appetite, there awoke
+a mysterious, a tender emotion. His heart, that seared and hardened
+heart, unmoved when the convict's cudgel or the heavy whip of the
+watchman fell on his shoulders, beat oppressively. In that sight he saw
+again his infancy; and closing his eyes sadly, the prey to torturing
+regret, he walked quickly away.
+
+Then the words written on the blackboard came back to his mind.
+
+"If it wasn't too late, after all!" he murmured; "if I could again, like
+others, eat honestly my brown bread, and sleep my fill without
+nightmare! The spy must be sharp who recognizes me. My beard, which I
+shaved off down there, has grown out thick and strong. One can burrow
+somewhere in the great ant-hill, and work can be found. Whoever is not
+worked to death in the hell of the galleys comes out agile and robust,
+and I learned there to climb ropes with loads upon my back. Building is
+going on everywhere here, and the masons need helpers. Three francs a
+day! I never earned so much. Let me be forgotten, and that is all I
+ask."
+
+He followed his courageous resolution; he was faithful to it, and after
+three months he was another man. The master for whom he worked called
+him his best workman. After a long day upon the scaffolding, in the hot
+sun and the dust, constantly bending and raising his back to take the
+hod from the man at his feet and pass it to the man over his head, he
+went for his soup to the cook-shop, tired out, his legs aching, his
+hands burning, his eyelids stuck with plaster, but content with himself,
+and carrying his well-earned money in a knot in his handkerchief. He
+went out now without fear, since he could not be recognized in his white
+mask, and since he had noticed that the suspicious glances of the
+policeman were seldom turned on the tired workman. He was quiet and
+sober. He slept the sound sleep of fatigue. He was free!
+
+At last--oh, supreme recompense!--he had a friend!
+
+He was a fellow-workman like himself, named Savinien, a little peasant
+with red lips who had come to Paris with his stick over his shoulder and
+a bundle on the end of it, fleeing from the wine-shops and going to mass
+every Sunday. Jean François loved him for his piety, for his candor,
+for his honesty, for all that he himself had lost, and so long ago. It
+was a passion, profound and unrestrained, which transformed him by
+fatherly cares and attentions. Savinien, himself of a weak and
+egotistical nature, let things take their course, satisfied only in
+finding a companion who shared his horror of the wine-shop. The two
+friends lived together in a fairly comfortable lodging, but their
+resources were very limited. They were obliged to take into their room a
+third companion, an old Auvergnat, gloomy and rapacious, who found it
+possible out of his meagre salary to save something with which to buy a
+place in his own country. Jean François and Savinien were always
+together. On holidays they together took long walks in the environs of
+Paris, and dined under an arbor in one of those small country inns where
+there are a great many mushrooms in the sauces and innocent rebusses on
+the napkins. There Jean François learned from his friend all that lore
+of which they who are born in the city are ignorant: learned the names
+of the trees, the flowers, and the plants; the various seasons for
+harvesting; he heard eagerly the thousand details of a laborious country
+life--the autumn sowing, the winter chores, the splendid celebrations of
+harvest and vintage days, the sound of the mills at the water-side, and
+the flails striking the ground, the tired horses led to water, and the
+hunting in the morning mist; and, above all, the long evenings around
+the fire of vine-shoots, that were shortened by some marvellous stories.
+He discovered in himself a source of imagination before unknown, and
+found a singular delight in the recital of events so placid, so calm, so
+monotonous.
+
+One thing troubled him, however: it was the fear lest Savinien might
+learn something of his past. Sometimes there escaped from him some low
+word of thieves' slang, a vulgar gesture--vestiges of his former
+horrible existence--and he felt the pain one feels when old wounds
+re-open; the more because he fancied that he sometimes saw in Savinien
+the awakening of an unhealthy curiosity. When the young man, already
+tempted by the pleasures which Paris offers to the poorest, asked him
+about the mysteries of the great city, Jean François feigned ignorance
+and turned the subject; but he felt a vague inquietude for the future of
+his friend.
+
+His uneasiness was not without foundation. Savinien could not long
+remain the simple rustic that he was on his arrival in Paris. If the
+gross and noisy pleasures of the wine-shop always repelled him, he was
+profoundly troubled by other temptations, full of danger for the
+inexperience of his twenty years. When spring came he began to go off
+alone, and at first he wandered about the brilliant entrance of some
+dancing-hall, watching the young girls who went in with their arms
+around each others' waists, talking in low tones. Then, one evening,
+when lilacs perfumed the air and the call to quadrilles was most
+captivating, he crossed the threshold, and from that time Jean François
+observed a change, little by little, in his manners and his visage. He
+became more frivolous, more extravagant. He often borrowed from his
+friend his scanty savings, and he forgot to repay. Jean François,
+feeling that he was abandoned, jealous and forgiving at the same time,
+suffered and was silent. He felt that he had no right to reproach him,
+but with the foresight of affection he indulged in cruel and inevitable
+presentiments.
+
+One evening, as he was mounting the stairs to his room, absorbed in his
+thoughts, he heard, as he was about to enter, the sound of angry voices,
+and he recognized that of the old Auvergnat who lodged with Savinien and
+himself. An old habit of suspicion made him stop at the landing-place
+and listen to learn the cause of the trouble.
+
+"Yes," said the Auvergnat, angrily, "I am sure that some one has opened
+my trunk and stolen from it the three louis that I had hidden in a
+little box; and he who has done this thing must be one of the two
+companions who sleep here, if it were not the servant Maria. It concerns
+you as much as it does me, since you are the master of the house, and I
+will drag you to the courts if you do not let me at once break open the
+valises of the two masons. My poor gold! It was here yesterday in its
+place, and I will tell you just what it was, so that if we find it again
+nobody can accuse me of having lied. Ah, I know them, my three beautiful
+gold pieces, and I can see them as plainly as I see you! One piece was
+more worn than the others; it was of greenish gold, with a portrait of
+the great emperor. The other was a great old fellow with a queue and
+epaulettes; and the third, which had on it a Philippe with whiskers, I
+had marked with my teeth. They don't trick me. Do you know that I only
+wanted two more like that to pay for my vineyard? Come, search these
+fellows' things with me, or I will call the police! Hurry up!" "All
+right," said the voice of the landlord; "we will go and search with
+Maria. So much the worse for you if we find nothing, and the masons get
+angry. You have forced me to it."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Jean François' soul was full of fright. He remembered the embarrassed
+circumstances and the small loans of Savinien, and how sober he had
+seemed for some days. And yet he could not believe that he was a thief.
+He heard the Auvergnat panting in his eager search, and he pressed his
+closed fists against his breast as if to still the furious beating of
+his heart.
+
+"Here they are!" suddenly shouted the victorious miser. "Here they are,
+my louis, my dear treasure; and in the Sunday vest of that little
+hypocrite of Limousin! Look, landlord, they are just as I told you. Here
+is the Napoleon, the man with a queue, and the Philippe that I have
+bitten. See the dents? Ah, the little beggar with the sanctified air. I
+should have much sooner suspected the other. Ah, the wretch! Well, he
+must go to the convict prison."
+
+At this moment Jean François heard the well-known step of Savinien
+coming slowly up the stairs.
+
+He is going to his destruction, thought he. Three stories. I have time!
+
+And, pushing open the door, he entered the room, pale as death, where he
+saw the landlord and the servant stupefied in a corner, while the
+Auvergnat, on his knees, in the disordered heap of clothes, was kissing
+the pieces of gold.
+
+"Enough of this," he said, in a thick voice; "I took the money, and put
+it in my comrade's trunk. But that is too bad. I am a thief, but not a
+Judas. Call the police; I will not try to escape, only I must say a word
+to Savinien in private. Here he is."
+
+In fact, the little Limousin had just arrived, and seeing his crime
+discovered, believing himself lost, he stood there, his eyes fixed, his
+arms hanging.
+
+Jean François seized him forcibly by the neck, as if to embrace him; he
+put his mouth close to Savinien's ear, and said to him in a low,
+supplicating voice,
+
+"Keep quiet."
+
+Then turning towards the others:
+
+"Leave me alone with him. I tell you I won't go away. Lock us in if you
+wish, but leave us alone."
+
+With a commanding gesture he showed them the door. They went out.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Savinien, broken by grief, was sitting on the bed, and lowered his eyes
+without understanding anything.
+
+"Listen," said Jean François, who came and took him by the hands. "I
+understand! You have stolen three gold pieces to buy some trifle for a
+girl. That costs six months in prison. But one only comes out from there
+to go back again, and you will become a pillar of police courts and
+tribunals. I understand it. I have been seven years at the Reform
+School, a year at Sainte Pélagie, three years at Poissy, five years at
+Toulon. Now, don't be afraid. Everything is arranged. I have taken it on
+my shoulders."
+
+"It is dreadful," said Savinien; but hope was springing up again in his
+cowardly heart.
+
+"When the elder brother is under the flag, the younger one does not go,"
+replied Jean François. "I am your substitute, that's all. You care for
+me a little, do you not? I am paid. Don't be childish--don't refuse.
+They would have taken me again one of these days, for I am a runaway
+from exile. And then, do you see, that life will be less hard for me
+than for you. I know it all, and I shall not complain if I have not done
+you this service for nothing, and if you swear to me that you will never
+do it again. Savinien, I have loved you well, and your friendship has
+made me happy. It is through it that, since I have known you, I have
+been honest and pure, as I might always have been, perhaps, if I had
+had, like you, a father to put a tool in my hands, a mother to teach me
+my prayers. It was my sole regret that I was useless to you, and that I
+deceived you concerning myself. To-day I have unmasked in saving you. It
+is all right. Do not cry, and embrace me, for already I hear heavy boots
+on the stairs. They are coming with the _posse_, and we must not seem to
+know each other so well before those chaps."
+
+He pressed Savinien quickly to his breast, then pushed him from him,
+when the door was thrown wide open.
+
+It was the landlord and the Auvergnat, who brought the police. Jean
+François sprang forward to the landing-place, held out his hands for
+the handcuffs, and said, laughing, "Forward, bad lot!"
+
+To-day he is at Cayenne, condemned for life as an incorrigible.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+AT TABLE.
+
+[Illustration: AT TABLE]
+
+
+When the _maître d'hôtel_--oh, what a respectable paunch in an ample
+kerseymere vest! What a worthy and red face, well framed by white
+whiskers! (an English physique, I assure you)--when the imposing
+_maître d'hôtel_ opened with two raps the door of the salon, and
+announced in his musical bass voice, at the same time sonorous and
+respectful, "The dinner of madame la comtesse is served," hats were hung
+on the corners of brackets, while the more distinguished of the guests
+offered their arms to the ladies, and all passed into the dining-room,
+silent, almost meditative, like a procession.
+
+The table glittered. What flowers! What lights! Each guest found his
+place without difficulty. As soon as he had read his name on the glazed
+card, a grand lackey in silk stockings pushed gently behind him a
+luxurious chair embroidered with a count's coronet. Fourteen at the
+table, not more: four young women in full toilets, and ten men belonging
+to the aristocracy of blood or of merit, who had put on that evening all
+their orders in honor of a foreign diplomat sitting at the right hand of
+the mistress of the house. Clusters of jewelled decorations hung from
+button-holes, plaques of diamonds glittered in the lapel of one or two
+black coats, a heavy commander's cross sparkled on the starched front of
+a general with a red cravat. As to the ladies, they bore all the
+splendors of their jewel-boxes.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+An elegant and exquisite reunion! What an atmosphere of good-living in
+the high hall--splendidly decorated and ornamented on its four panels
+with studies for a dining-hall in the fine style of olden days--where
+were fruits, venison, and eatables of all sorts. The service of the
+table was noiseless; the domestics seemed to glide upon the thick
+carpet. The butler whispered the wines in the ears of the guests with a
+confidential tone, and as if he were revealing a secret upon which life
+depended.
+
+At the soup--a _consommé_ at the same time mild and stimulating, giving
+force and youthful vigor to the digestion--chat between neighbors began.
+Undoubtedly these were the merest trifles that were at first so low
+spoken. But what politeness in the grave gestures! What affability in
+looks and smiles! Soon after the Chateâu-yquem, wit sparkled. These
+men, for the most part old or very mature, all remarkable through birth
+or through talent, had lived much; full of experience and memories, they
+were made for conversation, and the beauty of the women present inspired
+them with a desire to shine, and excited them to a courteous rivalry.
+There was a snapping of bright words, a flight of sudden sallies, and
+the conversationalists broke into groups of two or three. A famous
+voyager with bronzed skin, recently returned from the farthest deserts,
+told his two neighbors of an elephant hunt, without any boasting, with
+as much tranquillity as though he were speaking of shooting rabbits.
+Farther off, the fine profile and white hair of an illustrious savant
+was gallantly inclined towards the comtesse, who listened to him
+laughing--a very slender blonde, her eyes young and intent, with a
+collar of splendid emeralds on a bosom like a professional beauty, and
+the neck and shoulders of the Venus de Medici.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Decidedly the dinner promised to be charming as well as sumptuous.
+Ennui, that too frequent guest at mundane feasts, would not come to sit
+at that table. These fortunate ones were going to pass a delicious hour,
+drinking enjoyment through every pore, by every sense.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Now, at that same table, at the lower end, in the most modest place, a
+man still young, the least qualified, the most obscure of all who were
+there, a man of reverie and imagination, one of those dreamers in whom
+is something of philosophy, something of poetry, sat silent.
+
+Admitted into that high society by virtue of his renown as an artist,
+one of nature's aristocrats but without vanity, sprung from the people
+and not forgetting it, he breathed voluptuously that flower of
+civilization which is called good company.
+
+He knew--none better than he--how everything in this environment--the
+charm of the women, the wit of the men, the glittering table, the
+furnishing of the hall, to the exquisite wine which he had just touched
+to his lips--how everything was choice and rare, and he rejoiced that a
+concourse of things so lovely and so harmonious existed. He was plunged
+in a bath of optimism; it seemed to him good that there should be,
+sometimes and somewhere in the weary world, beings almost happy.
+Provided that they were accessible to pity, charitable--and these happy
+people probably were that--who could distress them? what could injure
+them? Ah, beautiful and consoling chimera to believe that for such as
+these life is pleasant; that they retain always--or almost always--that
+gay, happy light in the eye, that half-blossomed smile upon the lips;
+that they have blotted out, as far as possible, from their existence,
+imperious and discreditable desires and abject infirmities.
+
+He whom we will call the Dreamer was pursuing that train of thought,
+when the _maître d'hôtel_--the superb _maître d'hôtel_--entered with
+solemnity, carrying in a great silver plate a turbot of fabulous
+dimensions--one of those phenomenal fish which are only seen in the old
+paintings representing the miraculous draught of fish, or perhaps in the
+window of Chevet, before a row of astonished street-boys who flatten
+their noses against the glass window.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Dinner is served. But when the Dreamer had before him on his plate a
+portion of the monstrous turbot, the light odor of the sea evoked in his
+mind, prone to unexpected suggestions, that corner of Breton, that poor
+village of sailors, where he had been belated the other autumn until the
+equinox, and where he had rendered assistance in some dreadful storms.
+He suddenly called to mind that terrible night when the fishing-boats
+could not come back to port, the night that he had passed on the mole
+amid a group of frightened women, standing where the sea-spray streamed
+down his face, and the cold and furious wind seemed striving to tear his
+clothes from his back. What a life was theirs, those poor men! Down
+there how many widows, young and old, wearing always the black shawl,
+went at break of day, with their swarms of children, to earn their
+bread--oh, nothing but bread!--working in the sickening smell of hot oil
+in the sardine factories! He saw again in memory the church above the
+village, half-way up the cliff, the steeple painted white to show to the
+distant boats the passage between the reefs; and he saw, also, in the
+short grass of the cemetery nibbled by the sheep, the gravestones on
+which this sinister inscription was so often repeated: "_Lost at sea._"
+"_Lost at sea._" "_Lost at sea._"
+
+The enormous turbot was of savory and delicate taste, and the shrimp
+sauce with which it was served proved that the _chef_ of the comte had
+followed a course in cooking at the Café Anglais and profited by it.
+For our refined civilization reaches even this point. One takes degrees
+in culinary science. There are doctors in roasts and bachelors in
+sauces. All of the guests eat as if they appreciated, and with delicate
+gestures, but without showing special favor for exceptional dishes,
+through good form and because they were habituated to exquisite food.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The Dreamer himself had no appetite. He was still in thought with the
+Bretons, with the sons of the sea, who had caught, perhaps, this
+magnificent turbot. He remembered the day that followed the
+tempest--that morning, rainy and gray--when, walking by the heavy,
+leaden sea, he had found a body at his feet and recognized it as that of
+an old sailor, the father of a family, who had been lost at sea three
+days before--mournful jetsam, stranded in the wrack and foam, so
+heart-rending to see, with the gray hair of the drowned full of sand and
+shells!
+
+A shudder passed over his heart.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+But the lackeys had already removed the plates; every trace of the giant
+fish had disappeared, and while they were serving another course, the
+diners, elegant triflers, had taken up their chat again. Hunger being
+already somewhat appeased, they were more animated, they spoke with more
+abandon--light laughs ran round. Oh, charming and gracious company!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Then the Dreamer, the silent guest, was seized with an infinite sadness;
+for all the work and distress that were required to create this comfort
+and well-being came surging on his imagination.
+
+That these men of the world might wear light dress-coats in
+mid-December, that these women might expose their arms and their
+shoulders, the temperature of the room was that of a spring morning. And
+who furnished the coal? The poor devils of the black country, the
+subterranean workmen who lived in hellish mines. How white and fresh is
+the complexion of that young woman against her corsage of pink satin!
+But who had woven that satin? The human spider of Lyons, the weaver,
+always at his trade in the leprous houses of the Croix Rousse. She wears
+in her tiny ears two beautiful pearls. What brilliancy! what opaline
+transparence! Almost perfect spheres! The pearl which Cleopatra
+dissolved in vinegar and swallowed, and which was worth ten thousand
+sesterces, was not more pure. But does she know, that young woman, that
+in far-off Ceylon, on the pearl-oyster banks of Arripo and Condatchy,
+the Indians of the Indian Company plunge heroically down in twelve
+fathoms of water, one foot in the heavy stone weight which drags them
+down to the bottom, a knife in the left hand for defence against the
+shark?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+But what of that? One is lovely and coquettish. The air of the
+dining-hall is warm and perfumed. There one can dine gaily, adorned and
+half nude, flirting with one's neighbors. What has one to do, I ask you,
+with a dark workman, who digs fifty feet under the ground, with a weaver
+sitting with stiffened joints before the loom, with a savage who emerges
+from the sea and sometimes reddens it with his blood? Why should one
+think of things so sad, so ugly? What an absurdity!
+
+Meanwhile the Dreamer pursued his train of thought.
+
+An instant ago, without taking thought, mechanically he crumbled on the
+cloth a bit of the gilded bread which was placed near his napkin. As a
+viand, a mere bit of fancy, insignificant in such a repast, it made him
+think of the _naïf_ phrase of the great lady concerning the starving
+wretches--"Let them eat cake." Nevertheless, this little cake is bread
+all the same--bread made of flour, which in turn is made of wheat. Great
+heaven! yes, it is bread, simply bread, like the loaf of the peasant,
+like the bran-roll of the soldier; and that it might be here, on the
+table of the rich, required the patient labor of many poor.
+
+The peasant labored, sowed, reaped. He pushed his plough or led his
+harrow across the fertile field, under the cold needles of the autumn
+rain; he started from sleep, full of terror for his crop, when it
+thundered by night; he trembled, seeing the passage of great violet
+clouds charged with hail; he went forth, dissatisfied and gloomy, to the
+heavy work and exhausting labor of harvest.
+
+And when the old miller, twisted by rheumatism which he has caught in
+the river fogs, has sent the flour to Paris, the market-porters with the
+great white hats have carried the crushing sacks on their broad backs,
+and last night, even, in the baker's cellar the workmen toiled until
+morning.
+
+Verily, yes! It has cost all these efforts, all these pains--the bit of
+bread carelessly broken by the white hands of these patricians.
+
+And now the incorrigible Dreamer was possessed by these things. The
+delicacies of the repast only recalled to him the suffering of humanity.
+Presently, when the butler poured for him a glass of Chambertin, did he
+not remember that certain glass-blowers became consumptive through
+blowing bottles?
+
+Let it pass--it is absurd. He well knows that so the world is made. An
+economist would have laughed in his face. Would he become a Socialist,
+perhaps? There will always be rich and poor, as there will always be
+well-formed men and hunchbacks.
+
+Besides, the fortunates before him were not unjustly so. These were not
+vulgar favorites of the Gilded Calf--parvenus gross and conceited. The
+nobleman who presides at the table bears with honor and dignity a name
+associated with all the glories of France; the general with the gray
+mustache is a hero, and charged at Rezonville with the intrepidity of a
+Murat; the painter, the poet, have faithfully served Art and Beauty; the
+chemist, a self-made man who began life as a shop-boy in a drug-store,
+and to whom the learned world listens to-day as to an oracle, is simply
+a man of genius; these high-born dames are generous and good, and they
+will often dip their fair hands courageously in the depth of misfortune.
+Why should not these members of the _élite_ have exceptional enjoyment?
+
+The Dreamer said to himself that he had been unjust. These were old
+sophisms--good, at the best, for the clubs of the faubourgs, which had
+been awakened in his memory, and by which he had been duped. Is it
+possible? He was ashamed of himself.
+
+But the dinner neared its end; and while the lackeys refilled for the
+last time the champagne-glasses, the table grew silent--the guests felt
+the apathy of digestion. The Dreamer looked at them, one after the
+other, and all the faces had satiated, _blasé_ expressions which
+disturbed and disquieted him. A sentiment, obscure, inexplicable, but so
+bitter! protested even from the depth of his soul against that repast;
+and when they rose at last from the table, he repeated softly and
+stubbornly to himself:
+
+"Yes; they are within their rights. But do they know, do they
+understand, that their luxury is made from many miseries? Do they think
+of it sometimes? Do they think of it as often as they should? Do they
+think of it?"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+AN ACCIDENT.
+
+[Illustration: AN ACCIDENT.]
+
+
+I.
+
+Saint Medard, the old church of the Rue Mouffetard, once well known as
+the scene of the Convulsionnaires, is a very poor parish. The "Faubourg
+Marceau," as they call it there, has not much religion, and the
+vestry-board must have hard work to make both ends meet. On Sundays, at
+the hours of service, there are but few there, and they are for the most
+part women: some twenty of the folk of the quarter and some servants in
+their round caps. As for the men, there are not at the most more than
+three or four--old men in peasant jackets, who kneel awkwardly on the
+stone floor, near a pillar, their caps under their arms, rolling a great
+chaplet of beads between their fingers, moving their lips, and raising
+their eyes towards the arched roof, with an air as if they had given the
+stained-glass windows. On week days, nobody. On Thursdays, in the
+winter, the aisles resounded for an instant with the clang of wooden
+shoes, when the students of the catechism came and went. Sometimes a
+poor woman, leading one or two children and carrying a baby in her arms,
+came to burn a little candle on the stand at the chapel of the Virgin,
+or perhaps one heard by the baptismal font the wailing of a new-born
+babe; or, more often, the funeral of some poor wretch: a deal box,
+covered with a black cloth and resting on two trestles, hastily blessed
+by the priest, before a little group of women, the men being
+free-thinkers, and waiting the conclusion of the ceremony in the
+drinking-shop across the way, where they played bagatelle for drinks.
+
+Therefore, the old Abbé Faber, one of the vicars of the parish, is sure
+that twice out of three times he will find no penitent before his
+confessional, and has only to hear, for the most part of the time, the
+uninteresting confession of some good women. But he is conscientious,
+and on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, at seven o'clock precisely,
+he betakes himself regularly to the chapel of St. John, only to make a
+short prayer and return should there be nobody there.
+
+
+II.
+
+One day last winter, struggling against a heavy wind with his open
+umbrella, the Abbé Faber toiled painfully up the Rue Mouffetard, on the
+way to his parish, and, almost certain that his toil was useless, he
+regretted to himself the warm fire he had just quitted in his little
+room in the Rue D'homond, and the folio _Bollandiste_ which he had left
+lying on the table, with his eye-glasses on its open pages. But it was
+Saturday night, the day when certain old widows, who earned their scant
+income in the neighboring boarding-houses, sometimes sought absolution
+for the morrow's communion. The honest priest could not, therefore,
+excuse himself from entering his oak box and opening, with the
+punctuality of a cashier, that wicket where the devotees, for whom the
+confessional is a spiritual savings-bank, make a weekly deposit of their
+venial sins.
+
+The Abbé Faber was the more sorry to go out, because that particular
+Saturday was pay-day, and on such occasions the Rue Mouffetard swarmed
+with people, and a people not well disposed toward his cloth. However
+good a man one may be, it is far from agreeable to be forced to lower
+the eyes to avoid malevolent looks, and to stop the ears against
+insolent words heard in passing. There was a certain drinking-shop which
+the abbé particularly dreaded--a shop brilliant with gas and exhaling
+an odor of alcohol through its open doors, through which one could see a
+perspective of barrels labelled: "Absinthe," "Bitter," "Madère,"
+"Vermouth," etc. Here, leaning against the bar, were always a band of
+loafers in long blouses and high hats, who saluted the poor abbé,
+walking quickly along the pavement, with ribald jests.
+
+However, on this night the streets were deserted on account of the bad
+weather, and the abbé reached his church without interruption. He
+dipped his finger in the holy water, crossed himself, made a brief
+reverence before the grand altar, and went towards his confessional. At
+least he had not come for nothing. A penitent was waiting.
+
+
+III.
+
+A male penitent! a rare and exceptional thing at Saint Médard. But,
+distinguishing by the red light of the lamp hanging from the roof of the
+chapel the short white jacket and the heavy nailed shoes of the kneeling
+man, the Abbé Faber believed him to be some workman who had kept his
+rustic faith and his early habits of religious observance. Without doubt
+the confession that he was about to hear would be as stupid as that of
+the cook of the Rue Monge, who, after having accused himself of petty
+thefts, exclaimed loudly against a single word of restitution. The
+priest even smiled to himself as he remembered the formal confession of
+one of the inhabitants of the faubourg, who came to ask for a billet of
+confession that he might marry. "I have neither killed or robbed. Ask me
+about the rest." And so the vicar entered very tranquilly into his
+confessional, and, after having taken a copious pinch of snuff, opened
+without emotion the little curtain of green serge which closed the
+wicket.
+
+"Monsieur le curé," stammered a rough voice, which was making an effort
+to speak low.
+
+"I am not a curé, my friend. Say your _confiteor_, and call me father."
+
+The man, whose face the abbé could not see among the shadows, stumbled
+through the prayer, which he seemed to have great difficulty in
+recalling, and he began again in a hoarse whisper:
+
+"Monsieur le curé--no--my father--excuse me if I do not speak properly,
+but I have not been to confession for twenty-five years--no, not since I
+quitted the country--you know how it is--a man in Paris, and yet I have
+not been worse than other people, and I have said to myself, 'God must
+be a good sort of fellow.' But to-day what I have on my conscience is
+too heavy to carry alone, and you must hear me, monsieur le curé: I
+have killed a man!"
+
+The abbé half rose from his seat. A murderer! There was no longer any
+question of his mind wandering from the duties of his office, of half
+annoyance at the garrulity of the old women, to whom he listened with a
+half attentive ear, and whom he absolved in all confidence. A murderer!
+That head which was so near his had conceived and planned such a crime!
+Those hands, crossed on the confessional, were perhaps still stained
+with blood! In his trouble, perhaps not unmixed with a certain amount of
+fear, the Abbé Faber could only speak mechanically.
+
+"Confess yourself, my son. The mercy of God is infinite."
+
+"Listen to my whole story," said the man, with a voice trembling with
+profound grief. "I am a workingman, and I came to Paris more than twenty
+years ago with a fellow-countryman, a companion from childhood. We
+robbed birds'-nests, and we learned to read in school together--almost a
+brother, sir. He was called Philip; I am called Jack, myself. He was a
+fine big fellow; I have always been heavy and ill-formed. There was
+never a better workman than he--while I am only a 'botcher'--and so
+generous and good-natured, wearing his heart on his sleeve. I was proud
+to be his friend, to walk by his side--proud when he clapped me on the
+back and called me a clumsy fellow. I loved him because I admired him,
+in fact. Once here, what an opportunity! We worked together for the same
+employer, but he left me alone in the evenings more than half the time.
+He preferred to amuse himself with his companions--natural enough, at
+his age. He loved pleasure, he was free, he had no responsibilities. All
+this was impossible for me. I was forced to save my money, for at that
+time I had an invalid mother in the country, and I sent her all my
+savings. As for me, I stayed at the fruiterer's where I lodged, and who
+kept a lodging-house for masons. Philip did not dine there; he used to
+go somewhere else, and, to tell the truth, the dinners were not
+particularly good. But the fruiterer was a widow, far from happy, and I
+saw that my payments were of help to her; and then, to be frank, I fell
+at once in love with her daughter. Poor Catherine! You will soon know,
+monsieur le curé, what came from it all. I was there three years
+without daring to tell her of the love I had for her. I have told you
+that I am not a good workman, and the little that I gained hardly
+sufficed for me and for the support of my mother. There could be no
+thought of marrying. At last my good mother left this world for a
+better. I was somewhat less pressed for money, and I began to save, and
+when it seemed to me that I had enough to begin with, I told Catherine
+of my love. She said nothing at first--neither yes nor no. Well, I knew
+that no one would fall upon my neck; I am not attractive. In the mean
+time Catherine consulted her mother, who thought well of me as a steady
+workman, as a good fellow, and the marriage was decided upon. Ah, I had
+some happy weeks! I saw that Catherine barely accepted me, and that she
+was by no means carried away with me; but as she had a good heart, I
+hoped that she would love me some day--I would make her love me. As a
+matter of course, I told everything to Philip, whom I saw every day at
+the work-yard, and as Catherine and I were engaged, I wanted him to meet
+her. Perhaps you have already guessed the end, monsieur le curé. Philip
+was handsome, lively, good-tempered--everything that I was not; and
+without attempting it, innocently enough, he fascinated Catherine. Ah,
+Catherine had a frank and honest heart, and as soon as she recognized
+what had happened she at once told me everything. Ah, I can never forget
+that moment! It was Catherine's birthday, and in honor of it I had
+bought a little cross of gold which I had arranged in a box with cotton.
+We were alone in the back shop, and she had just brought me my soup. I
+took my box from my pocket, and, opening it, I showed her the jewel.
+Then she burst into tears.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"'Forgive me, Jack,' she said, 'and keep that for her whom you will
+marry. As for me, I can never become your wife. I love another--I love
+Philip.'
+
+
+IV.
+
+"Believe me, I had trouble enough then, monsieur le curé; my soul was
+full of it. But what could I do, since I loved them both? Only what I
+believed was for their happiness--let them marry. And as Philip had
+always lived freely, and spent as he made, I lent him my hoard to buy
+the furniture.
+
+"Then they were married, and for a while all went well. They had a
+little boy, and I stood sponsor for him and named him Camille, in
+remembrance of his mother. It was a little after the birth of the baby
+that Philip began to go wrong. I was mistaken in him--he was not made
+for marriage; he was too fond of frivolity and pleasure. You live in a
+poor quarter, monsieur le curé, and you must know the sad story by
+heart--the workman who glides little by little from idleness into
+drunkenness, who is off on a spree for two or three days, who does not
+bring home his week's wages, and who only returns to his home, broken up
+by his spree, to make scenes and to beat his wife. In less than two
+years Philip became one of these wretches. At first I tried to reform
+him, and sometimes, ashamed of himself, he would attempt to do better;
+but that did not last long. Then my remonstrances only irritated him;
+and when I went to his house, and he saw me look sadly around the
+chamber made bare by the pawn-shop, at poor Catherine, thin and pale
+with grief, he became furious. One day he had the audacity to be jealous
+of me on account of his wife, who was as pure as the blessed Virgin,
+reminding me that I was once her lover and accusing me of still being
+so, with slanders and infamies that I should be ashamed to repeat. We
+almost flew at each other's throats. I saw what I must do. I would see
+Catherine and my godson no more; and as for Philip, I would only meet
+him when by chance we worked on the same job.
+
+"Only, you will understand, I loved Catherine and little Camille too
+well to lose sight of them entirely. On Saturday evenings, when I knew
+that Philip was drinking up his wages with his comrades, I used to prowl
+about the quarter, and chat with the boy when I found him; and if it was
+too miserable at home, he did not return with empty hands, you know. I
+believe that the wretched Philip knew that I was helping his wife, and
+that he closed his eyes to the fact, finding it rather convenient. I
+will hurry on, for the story is too miserable. Some years have passed;
+Philip plunging deeper in vice; but Catherine, whom I had helped all I
+could, has educated her son, who is now a fellow of twenty years, good
+and courageous like herself. He is not a workman; he is educated; he has
+learned to draw at the evening schools, and he is now with an architect,
+where he gets good wages. And though the house is saddened by the
+presence of the drunkard, things go fairly well, for Camille is a great
+comfort to his mother; and for a year or two, when I see Catherine--she
+is so changed, the poor woman!--leaning on the arm of her manly son, it
+warms my heart.
+
+"But yesterday evening, coming out of my cook-shop, I met Camille; and
+shaking hands with him--oh, he is not ashamed of me, and he doesn't
+blush at a blouse covered with plaster--I saw that something was the
+matter.
+
+"'Let's see--what's the matter now?'
+
+"'I drew the lot yesterday,' he replied, 'and I drew the number ten--a
+number that sends you to die with fever in the colonies with the
+marines. That will, at all events, send me there for five years, to
+leave mother alone, without resources, with father, who has never been
+drinking so much, who has never been so wicked. And it will kill her--it
+will kill her! How cursed it is to be poor!'
+
+"Oh, what a horrible night I passed! Think of it, monsieur le curé,
+that poor woman's labor for twenty years destroyed in a minute by an
+unhappy chance; because a child, rummaging in a sack, has drawn an
+unfortunate number! In the morning I was broken as by age when I went to
+the house we were building on the Boulevard Arago. Of what use is
+sorrow? we must work all the same. So I mounted the scaffolding. We had
+already built the house to the fourth story, and I began to place my
+mortar. Suddenly I felt some one strike me on the shoulder. It was
+Philip. He only worked now when the inclination seized him, and he was
+apparently putting in a day's work to get something to drink; but the
+builder, having a forfeit to pay if the building was not finished by a
+certain date, accepted the first-comers.
+
+
+V.
+
+"I had not seen Philip for a long time, and it was with difficulty that
+I recognized him. Burned and fevered by brandy, his beard gray, his
+hands trembling, he was more than an old man--he was a ruin.
+
+"'Well,' I said to him, 'the boy has drawn a bad number.'
+
+"'What of it?' he replied, with an angry look. 'Are you going to worry
+me about that, too, like Catherine and Camille? The boy will do as
+others have done: he will serve his country. I know what worries them,
+both my wife and son. If I were dead he would not have to go. But, so
+much the worse for them, I am still solid at my post, and Camille is not
+the son of a widow.'
+
+"The son of a widow! Ah, monsieur le curé, why did he use that unhappy
+phrase? The evil thought came to me at once, and it never quitted me all
+the morning that I worked at the wretch's side. I imagined all that she
+was about to suffer--poor Catherine!--when she no longer had her son to
+care for and protect her, and she must be alone with the miserable
+drunkard, now completely brutalized, ugly, and capable of anything. A
+neighboring clock struck eleven, and the workmen all descended to lunch.
+We remained until the last, Philip and I, but in stepping on the ladder
+to descend, he turned to me with a leer, and said, in his hoarse,
+dissipated voice:
+
+"'You see, steady as a sailor; Camille is not nearly the son of a
+widow.'
+
+"The blood mounted to my head. I was beside myself. I seized with both
+hands the rounds of the ladder to which Philip clung shouting 'Help!'
+and with a single effort I toppled it over.
+
+"He was instantly killed--by an accident, they said--and now Camille is
+the son of a widow and need not go.
+
+"That is what I have done, monsieur le curé, and what I want to tell to
+you and to the good God. I repent, I ask pardon, of course; but I must
+not see Catherine in her black dress, happy on the arm of her son, or I
+could not regret my crime. To prevent that I will emigrate--I will lose
+myself in America. As to my penance--see, monsieur le curé, here is the
+little cross of gold that Catherine refused when she told me that she
+was in love with Philip. I have always kept it, in memory of the only
+happy days that I ever knew in my life. Take it and sell it. Give the
+money to the poor."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Jack rose absolved by the Abbé Faber.
+
+One thing is certain, and that is that the priest never sold the little
+cross of gold. After having paid its price into the Treasury of the
+Church, he hung the jewel, as an _ex-voto_, on the altar of the chapel
+of the Virgin, where he often went to pray for the poor mason.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE SABOTS OF LITTLE WOLFF.
+
+[Illustration: The Sabots of little Wolff.
+
+(a Christmas Story).]
+
+
+Once upon a time--it was so long ago that the whole world has forgotten
+the date--in a city in the north of Europe--whose name is so difficult
+to pronounce that nobody remembers it--once upon a time there was a
+little boy of seven, named Wolff, an orphan in charge of an old aunt who
+was hard and avaricious, who only embraced him on New-Year's Day, and
+who breathed a sigh of regret every time that she gave him a porringer
+of soup.
+
+But the poor little chap was naturally so good that he loved the old
+woman just the same, although she frightened him very much, and he could
+never see without trembling the great wart, ornamented with four gray
+hairs, which she had on the end of her nose.
+
+As the aunt of Wolff was known through all the village to have a house
+and an old stocking full of gold, she did not dare send her nephew to
+the school for the poor. But she so schemed to obtain a reduction of the
+price with the school-master whose school little Wolff attended, that
+the bad teacher, vexed at having a scholar so badly dressed and who paid
+so poorly, punished him very often and unjustly with the backboard and
+fool's cap, and even stirred his fellow-pupils against him, all sons of
+well-to-do men, who made the orphan their scapegoat.
+
+The poor little fellow was therefore as miserable as the stones in the
+street, and hid himself in out-of-the-way corners to cry; when Christmas
+came.
+
+The night before Christmas the school-master was to take all of his
+pupils to the midnight mass, and bring them back to their homes.
+
+Now, as the winter was very severe that year, and as for several days a
+great quantity of snow had fallen, the scholars came to the rendezvous
+warmly wrapped and bundled up, with fur caps pulled down over their
+ears, double and triple jackets, knitted gloves and mittens, and good
+thick nailed boots with strong soles. Only little Wolff came shivering
+in the clothes that he wore week-days and Sundays, and with nothing on
+his feet but coarse Strasbourg socks and heavy sabots, or wooden shoes.
+
+His thoughtless comrades made a thousand jests over his sad looks and
+his peasant's dress. But the orphan was so occupied in blowing on his
+fingers, and suffered so much from his chilblains, that he took no
+notice of them; and the troop of boys, with the master at their head,
+started for the church.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+It was fine in the church, which was resplendent with wax-candles; and
+the scholars, excited by the pleasant warmth, profited by the noise of
+the organ and the singing to talk to each other in a low voice. They
+boasted of the fine suppers that were waiting for them at home. The son
+of the burgomaster had seen, before he went out, a monstrous goose that
+the truffles marked with black spots like a leopard. At the house of the
+first citizen there was a little fir-tree in a wooden box, from whose
+branches hung oranges, sweetmeats, and toys. And the cook of the first
+citizen had pinned behind her back the two strings of her cap, as she
+only did on her days of inspiration when she was sure of succeeding with
+her famous sugar-candy. And then the scholars spoke, too, of what the
+Christ-child would bring to them, of what he would put in their shoes,
+which they would, of course, be very careful to leave in the chimney
+before going to bed. And the eyes of those little chaps, lively as a
+parcel of mice, sparkled in advance with the joy of seeing in their
+imagination pink paper bags of burnt almonds, lead soldiers drawn up in
+battalions in their boxes, menageries smelling of varnished wood, and
+magnificent jumping-jacks covered with purple and bells.
+
+Little Wolff knew very well by experience that his old miserly aunt
+would send him supperless to bed. But in the simplicity of his soul, and
+knowing that he had been all the year as good and industrious as
+possible, he hoped that the Christ-child would not forget him, and he,
+too, looked eagerly forward by-and-by to putting his wooden shoes in the
+ashes of the fireplace.
+
+The midnight mass concluded, the faithful went away, anxious for supper,
+and the band of scholars, walking two by two after their teacher, left
+the church.
+
+Now, under the porch, sitting on a stone seat under a Gothic niche, a
+child was sleeping--a child covered by a robe of white linen, and whose
+feet were bare, notwithstanding the cold. He was not a beggar, for his
+robe was new and nice, and near him on the ground were seen, lying in a
+cloth, a square, a hatchet, a pair of compasses, and the other tools of
+a carpenter's apprentice. Under the light of the stars, his face, with
+its closed eyes, bore an expression of divine sweetness, and his long
+locks of golden hair seemed like an _auréole_ about his head. But the
+child's feet, blue in the cold of that December night, were sad to see.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The scholars, so well clothed and shod for the winter, passed heedlessly
+before the unknown child. One of them, even, the son of one of the
+principal men in the village, looked at the waif with an expression in
+which could be seen all the scorn of the rich for the poor, the well-fed
+for the hungry.
+
+But little Wolff, coming the last out of the church, stopped, full of
+compassion, before the beautiful sleeping infant.
+
+"Alas!" said the orphan to himself, "it is too bad: this poor little one
+going barefoot in such bad weather. But what is worse than all, he has
+not to-night even a boot or a wooden shoe to leave before him while he
+sleeps, so that the Christ-child could put something there to comfort
+him in his misery."
+
+And, carried away by the goodness of his heart, little Wolff took off
+the wooden shoe from his right foot, and laid it in front of the
+sleeping child; and then, as best he could, limping along on his poor
+blistered foot and dragging his sock through the snow, he went back to
+his aunt's.
+
+"Look at the worthless fellow!" cried his aunt, full of anger at his
+return without one of his shoes. "What have you done with your wooden
+shoe, little wretch?"
+
+Little Wolff did not know how to deceive, and although he was shaking
+with terror at seeing the gray hairs bristle up on the nose of the angry
+woman, he tried to stammer out some account of his adventure.
+
+But the old woman burst into a frightful peal of laughter.
+
+"Ah, monsieur takes off his shoes for beggars! Ah, monsieur gives away
+his wooden shoe to a barefoot! That is something new for example! Ah,
+well, since that is so, I am going to put the wooden shoe which you have
+left in the chimney, and I promise you the Christ-child will leave there
+to-night something to whip you with in the morning. And you shall pass
+the day to-morrow on dry bread and water. We will see if next time you
+give away your shoes to the first vagabond that comes."
+
+And the wicked woman, after having given the poor boy a couple of slaps,
+made him climb up to his bed in the attic. Grieved to the heart, the
+child went to bed in the dark, and soon went to sleep on his pillow
+steeped with tears.
+
+But on the morrow morning, when the old woman, awakened by the cold and
+shaken by her cough, went down stairs--oh, wonderful sight!--she saw the
+great chimney full of beautiful playthings, and sacks of magnificent
+candies, and all sorts of good things; and before all these splendid
+things the right shoe, that her nephew had given to the little waif,
+stood by the side of the left shoe, that she herself had put there that
+very night, and where she meant to put a birch-rod.
+
+And as little Wolff, running down to learn the meaning of his aunt's
+exclamation, stood in artless ecstasy before all these splendid
+Christmas presents, suddenly there were loud cries of laughter
+out-of-doors. The old woman and the little boy went out to know what it
+all meant, and saw all the neighbors gathered around the public
+fountain. What had happened? Oh, something very amusing and very
+extraordinary. The children of all the rich people of the village, those
+whose parents had wished to surprise them by the most beautiful gifts,
+had found only rods in their shoes.
+
+Then the orphan and the old woman, thinking of all the beautiful things
+that were in their chimney, were full of amazement. But presently they
+saw the curé coming with wonder in his face. Above the seat, placed
+near the door of the church, at the same place where in the evening a
+child, clad in a white robe, and with feet bare notwithstanding the
+cold, had rested his sleeping head, the priest had just seen a circle of
+gold incrusted with precious stones.
+
+And they all crossed themselves devoutly, comprehending that the
+beautiful sleeping child, near whom were the carpenter's tools, was
+Jesus of Nazareth in person, become for an hour such as he was when he
+worked in his parents' house, and they bowed themselves before that
+miracle that the good God had seen fit to work, to reward the faith and
+charity of a child.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE FOSTER SISTER.
+
+[Illustration: THE FOSTER SISTER]
+
+
+I.
+
+Sitting in her office at the end of the shop, shut off from it by glass
+windows, pretty Madame Bayard, in a black gown and with her hair in
+sober braids, was writing steadily in an enormous ledger with leather
+corners, while her husband, following his morning custom, stopped at the
+door to scold his workmen, who had not finished unloading a dray from
+the Northern Railway, which blocked the road, and carried to the
+druggist of the Rue Vieille du Temple a dozen casks of glucose.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"I have bad news to tell you," said Madame Bayard, sticking her pen in a
+cup of leaden shot, when her husband had entered the glass cage. "Poor
+Voisin is dead."
+
+"The nurse of Leon? Poor woman! And her little daughter?"
+
+"That is the saddest part, my dear. A relative of poor Voisin writes me
+that they are too poor to take charge of the child, and she must be sent
+to an orphan asylum."
+
+"Oh, those peasants!"
+
+The druggist was silent for a moment, rubbing his thick blond beard;
+then suddenly looking at his wife with kindly eyes:
+
+"Say, Mimi, the child is the foster sister of our Leon. Suppose we give
+her a home?"
+
+"I should think so," was the quiet reply of the pretty wife.
+
+"Well done," cried Bayard, as, caring little if he were seen by his
+clerks and store-boys, he leaned towards his wife and kissed her
+forehead, "well done! you're a good woman, Mimi. We will take little
+Norine with us, and bring her up with Leon. That won't ruin us, eh?
+Besides, I have just made a good stroke in quinine. We will go after the
+child Sunday to Argenteuil, sha'n't we?"
+
+"We will make that our Sunday excursion."
+
+
+II.
+
+Good people, these Bayards; an honor to the drug trade. Their marriage
+had united two houses which had been for a long time rivals; for Bayard
+was the son of _The Silver Pill_, founded by his great-great-grandfather
+in 1756 in the Rue Vieille du Temple, and had espoused the daughter of
+the _Offering to Esculapius_, of the Rue des Lombards, an establishment
+which dated from the First Empire, as was shown by the sign, copied from
+the celebrated painting of Guérin. Honest people, excellent people--and
+there are many more, like them, whatever folks may say, among the older
+Paris houses, conservators of old traditions; going to the second tier,
+on Sunday, at the opera comique, and ignorant of false weights and
+measures. It was the curé of Blancs-Manteaux who had managed that
+marriage with his confrère of Saint-Merry. The first had ministered at
+the death-bed of the elder Bayard, and was dismayed to see a young man
+of twenty-five all alone in a house so gloomy as that of _The Silver
+Pill_, justly famed for its ipecac; and the second was anxious to
+establish Mademoiselle Simonin, to whom he had administered her first
+communion, and whose father was one of his most important parishioners,
+old Simonin of the _Offering to Esculapius_, celebrated for its camphor.
+The negotiations were successful; camphor and ipecac, two excellent
+specialties, were united in the holy bonds of matrimony, there was a
+dinner and ball at the Grand Véfour, and now for ten years, tranquilly
+working every day, summer and winter, in her glass cage, Madame Bayard,
+with her pale brown face and her plaited hair, had smitten the hearts of
+all the young clerks of the quarter Sainte-Croix de la Bretonnerie.
+
+And yet for a long time there had been a disappointment in that happy
+household, a cloud in that bright sky. An heir was wanted, and it was
+five years before little Leon came into the world. One can imagine with
+what joy he was received. Now one day they might write over the door of
+_The Silver Pill_ these words, "Bayard & Son." But as the infant arrived
+at the time of a boom in isinglass, Madame Bayard, whose presence in the
+shop was indispensable, could not think of nursing him. She even gave up
+the idea of taking a nurse in the house, fearing for the new-born the
+close air of that corner of old Paris, and contented herself with taking
+every Sunday with her husband a little excursion to Argenteuil to see
+her son with his nurse Voisin, who was overwhelmed with coffee, sugar,
+soap, and other dainties. At the end of eighteen months Mother Voisin
+brought back the baby in a magnificent state, and for two years a
+child's nurse, chosen with great care, had taken the child out for his
+airings in the square of the Tour Saint-Jacques, and had exhibited for
+the admiration of her companion-nurses, the pouting lips, the high
+color, and the dimpled back of the future druggist.
+
+And now these good Bayards, learning of the death of Mother Voisin,
+could not bear the thought that the little girl who had been nourished
+at the same breast with their boy should be abandoned to public charity,
+so they went to Argenteuil for Norine.
+
+Poor little one! Since the fifteen days that her mother slept in the
+cemetery she had been taken charge of by a cousin who kept a
+billiard-saloon; and though she was not yet five years old, she had been
+put to work washing the beer-glasses.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The Bayards found her charming, with great eyes as blue as the summer
+sun, and her thick blond tresses escaping from her ugly black bonnet.
+Leon, who had been brought with his nurse, embraced his foster sister;
+and the cousin, who that very morning had boxed the orphan's ears for
+negligence in sweeping out the hall, appeared before the Parisians to be
+as much touched as if parting with Norine was a heart-breaking affair.
+
+The order for an ample breakfast restored his serenity.
+
+It was a beautiful Sunday in June, and they were in the country--"an
+occasion which should be improved," declared Bayard, "by taking the air;
+shouldn't it, Mimi?"
+
+And while pretty Madame Bayard, having pinned up her skirts, went out
+with the children and the nurse to pick flowers in a neighboring field,
+the druggist, who was less ambitious, treated the saloon-keeping cousin
+to a glass of vermouth, seated at the billiard-table, which was covered
+with dead flies. They breakfasted under a vineless arbor, which the hot
+noonday sun riddled with its rays. But what of that? They were pleased
+and contented all the same. Madame Bayard had hung her hat on the
+lattice; and her husband, wearing a bargeman's straw helmet, which had
+been lent to him by the saloon-keeper, cut up the duck in the best of
+spirits. Little Leon and Norine, who had immediately become the best of
+friends, emptied the salad-bowl of its cream-cheese. Then they all
+romped in the grass, went boating on the stream, and, intoxicated with
+the fresh country air, the indwellers of the city, coming from the close
+Paris streets, pushed to its fullest extreme this idyl in the fashion of
+Paul de Kock.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+For, yes; there was a moment, as they came back in the boat, in a
+delicious sunset, when tinted clouds floated in a glowing sky, when
+Madame Bayard--the serious Madame Bayard--whose frown turned to stone
+the shop-boys of the druggist, sang the air called "To the Shores of
+France," to the rhythmic fall of the oars, plied by her husband in his
+shirt-sleeves. They dined in the arbor where they had breakfasted, but
+the second repast was a shade less happy. The night-moths, which dashed
+in to burn themselves at the candles, frightened the children; and
+Madame Bayard was so tired that she could not even guess the simple
+rebus on her dessert napkin.
+
+Never mind; it has been a good day; and on their return in a first-class
+carriage--this was not a time for petty economies--Madame Bayard, with
+her head on her husband's shoulder, watching Leon and Norine, limp with
+sleep on the lap of the nurse, half asleep herself, murmured to her
+husband, in a happy voice:
+
+"See, Ferdinand; we have done well to take the little one. She will be a
+comrade for Leon. They will be like brother and sister."
+
+
+III.
+
+In fact, they did thus grow up together.
+
+They were most kind-hearted people, these Bayards. They made no
+difference between the humble orphan and their own dear boy, who would
+one day in the firm of "Bayard & Son" work monopolies in rhubarb and
+corners in castor-oil; indeed, they loved as their own child little
+Norine, who was as intelligent as she was charming, as fair in mind as
+she was delicate in body.
+
+Now the nurse took the two children to the square of the Tour
+Saint-Jacques when the weather was pleasant, and in the evening at the
+family table there were two high-chairs side by side for the boy and his
+foster sister.
+
+In addition to which, the Bayards were not slow to perceive the good
+influence which Norine had upon Leon. Quicker, of a more nervous
+temperament, more easy of comprehension than the lymphatic boy, whose
+wits were "wool-gathering," according to his father, she seemed to
+communicate to him something of her own spirit and fire. "She jogs him
+up," said Madame Bayard.
+
+And since he had lived with his foster sister Leon had perceptibly grown
+brighter and quicker. When they were of an age to learn to read, Leon,
+who made but little progress, and stumbled along with one of those
+alphabets with pictures where the letter E is by the side of an elephant
+and the letter Z by the side of a zouave, was the despair of his mother.
+But as soon as Norine, who in a very short time learned to spell and
+read, came to the aid of the little man, he immediately made rapid
+progress.
+
+So things went on, until both children were sent to a school for little
+children kept by a gentlewoman named Merlin, in the Rue de l'Homme
+Armé. According to the fallacious circular which Mademoiselle Merlin
+sent to the folks of the quarter, there was a garden--that is to say,
+four broomsticks in a sandy court; and it was there, the first day
+during recess, that the innocent Leon burst into cries of terror when he
+saw the school-mistress, forced by some accident to interrupt her
+knitting, stick one of her great knitting-needles in her capacious
+head-dress. A "senior," who was more familiar with her head-dress,
+explained the phenomenon in vain to Leon and Norine, for the boy, none
+the less, preserved in the presence of Mademoiselle Merlin an impression
+of superstitious terror.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+She would have paralyzed his infant faculties, and have prevented him in
+the class from following the pointer of Mademoiselle Merlin, as she
+sniffled through her sing-song lecture before the map of Europe, or the
+table of weights and measures, if Norine had not been there to reassure
+and encourage him. She was at once the first scholar in the school, and
+became for slow and lazy Leon a sort of sisterly counsellor and
+affectionate under-teacher. Towards four o'clock Madame Bayard had the
+two children, whom the nurse had brought back to the store, placed near
+her in the glass office; and Norine, opening a copy-book or a book,
+explained to Leon the uncomprehended task or made him repeat the lesson
+that he had not understood.
+
+"The good God has rewarded us," Madame Bayard sometimes whispered to her
+husband in the evening. "That little Norine is a treasure, and so good,
+so industrious! Only to-day I listened to her helping Leon again. I
+believe that without her he would never have learned the
+multiplication-table."
+
+"I believe you, Mimi," responded Bayard. "I have observed it. Things go
+on marvellously well with us, and we will portion her and marry her,
+shall we not, when she comes to a suitable age?"
+
+
+IV.
+
+Age comes--ah, how fast age comes! And behold! now in the glass cage of
+the shop there is a slender and beautiful young girl sitting at the side
+of Madame Bayard, who already shows some silver threads in her black
+bands. It is Norine now who writes in the great ledger with leather
+corners, while her adopted mother plies her needles on some embroidery.
+
+Seven o'clock! Time that they came home, and the shop must be closed
+against the November wind which is twisting and turning the flames of
+the gas-jets.
+
+Look at them now: Bayard grown stout, portly, and covered with trinkets,
+while Leon, who has just entered the first class in pharmacy, has
+actually become a fine-looking young fellow.
+
+"Good-day, Mimi; good-day, Norine! Let us go right in to dinner. I will
+tell you all the news while we are eating the soup," said the druggist.
+
+They went up to the dining-room, and while Madame Bayard, sitting under
+a barometer in the shape of a lyre, served the thick soup, Bayard,
+tucking his napkin in his vest and regarding his wife with a knowing
+look, said,
+
+"You know it is all right."
+
+"The Forgets agree?"
+
+"Exactly; and Leon will espouse Hortense in six months, and our
+daughter-in-law will come and live with us. Yes, Norine, you have known
+nothing about it, because one does not speak of such things before young
+girls; but for more than a year Leon has been in love with Hortense
+Forget, and has been teasing us to arrange the marriage--not such a
+difficult thing after all, since it only required a word. Leon is a good
+catch. The only difficulty was that we wanted to keep our son with us.
+At last it is all arranged, and your foster brother will have the wife
+he wants. I hope you are pleased."
+
+"Very much pleased," replied Norine.
+
+Oh, deaf and blind! They never heard the voice of Norine when she
+replied to them--that low, pathetic tone, which is the echo of a broken
+heart. Nor did they see how pale she became, and that her head, suddenly
+grown heavy, swayed from side to side as if Norine were about to faint.
+They saw nothing, comprehended nothing; and for a long time they had
+seen and comprehended nothing. Yet they dearly loved this Norine, who
+was the grace, the charm of the house. They dreamed, these good people,
+of marrying her one of these days to their head-clerk, a widower of
+prudent and economical habits, and "all that is necessary to make a
+woman happy." Leon loved her, too, with all his heart; but as a dear,
+good sister. Nor did the great spoiled boy suspect that Norine loved
+him, and suffered from her love--aye, to death itself. No; even that
+evening, when they had unconsciously inflicted upon her the worst of
+torture, they never suspected the truth; and they would sleep
+peacefully, indulging in beautiful dreams of the future, at the very
+hour when, shut in her chamber--the chamber separated by such a thin
+partition from that of her adopted parents--Norine would fall upon her
+bed, fainting with grief, and bury her head in her pillow to stifle her
+sobs.
+
+
+V.
+
+The ball is finished; and in the empty rooms the candles, burned to the
+very end, have broken some of the sconces and the fragments lie upon the
+waxed floors.
+
+The Bayards have insisted that the wedding should be celebrated at their
+house; but by the aid of many flowers (it is midsummer) they have given
+a holiday appearance to the apartment in the Rue Vieille du Temple where
+they have triumphantly installed their daughter-in-law.
+
+At last it is finished; the young couple have retired to their nuptial
+chamber, where Madame Bayard has gone for a moment with them. Coming out
+she found Norine still in the little salon, helping the servants
+extinguish the lights. She embraced the young girl tenderly, saying,
+
+"Go to bed, my child. You must be very tired." And she added, with a
+smile, "Well, it will be your turn before long."
+
+And Norine was at last alone in the room, now so gloomy, and lighted
+only by her single candle resting on the piano.
+
+Heavens! how heavy was the odor of the flowers, and how her head ached.
+
+Ah, that horrible day! What torment she had endured since the moment
+when she knelt, impressed into service as a lady's-maid, with pins in
+her lips, at the feet of her rival Hortense, and arranged her white
+satin train, to the hour when Leon, holding his wife by the waist, drew
+her towards her, Norine, and the lips of the young couple met almost
+upon her very forehead!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Oh, the odor of the flowers is insupportable, and she is so giddy and
+faint.
+
+She fell upon a sofa, unnerved by a frightful headache, her head thrown
+back, clasping her forehead with her two hands, but with open eyes
+staring always at the door--the door of that chamber which was shut upon
+the young couple, closed upon the mystery which was breaking her heart.
+A sort of delirium overwhelmed her. How the heavy perfume of those
+flowers overpowered her, and how a thousand memories assailed her at
+once. She was a child again in the saloon at Argenteuil, and the kind
+Parisians came and caressed her. She was embraced by the dear little boy
+wearing a white plume in his hat. Rapid pictures flashed upon her soul.
+The _pension_ of the Rue de l'Homme Armé, and Mademoiselle Merlin, with
+her knitting-needle stuck in her head-dress, pointed with the end of her
+stick to the table of weights and measures. The drug-store on Sundays,
+all dark, the shutters closed, and she playing catch with Leon among the
+barrels and sacks.
+
+Good God! was she losing her head? She could not help humming that
+waltz, during which Leon once held her in his arms. She was stifled. Oh,
+the flowers! She must go out, or at least open a window. But she could
+not rise; her strength had deserted her. Could she die thus? Two iron
+fingers seemed to be pressing her temples. Oh, the roses and the
+orange-flowers--those orange-flowers above all!
+
+At last she made a great effort. She rose upright and pale--pale as her
+white robe. But suddenly her strength left her, and falling first upon
+her knees, and then with her head and shoulders upon the wood floor,
+poor Norine lay stretched at the threshold of the bridal chamber, killed
+by disappointed love and by the flowers.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+MY FRIEND MEURTRIER.
+
+[Illustration: MY FRIEND MEURTIER]
+
+
+I.
+
+I was at one time employed in a government office. Every day from ten
+o'clock until four I became a voluntary prisoner in a depressing office,
+adorned with yellow pasteboard boxes, and filled with the musty odor of
+old papers. There I lunched on Italian cheese and apples which I roasted
+at the grate. I read the morning papers, even to the advertisements; I
+rhymed verses, and I attended to the affairs of state to the extent of
+drawing at the end of each month a salary which barely kept me from
+starving.
+
+I recall to-day one of my companions in captivity at that epoch.
+
+He was called Achille Meurtrier, and certainly his fierce look and tall
+form seemed to warrant that name. He was a great big fellow, about forty
+years old, not too much chest or shoulders, but who increased his
+apparent size by wearing felt hats with wide brims, ample and short
+coats, large plaid trousers, and neckties of a sanguine red under
+rolling collars. He wore a full beard, long hair, and was very proud of
+his hairy hands.
+
+The chief boast of Meurtrier, otherwise the best and most amiable of
+companions, was to trifle with an athletic constitution, to possess the
+biceps of a prize-fighter, and, as he said himself, not to know his own
+strength. He never made a gesture, even in the exercise of his peaceful
+profession, that did not have for its object to convince the spectators
+of his prodigious vigor. Did he have to take from its case a half-empty
+pasteboard box, he advanced towards the shelf with the heavy step of a
+street porter, grasped the box solidly with a tight hand, and carried it
+with a stiff arm as far as the next table, with a shrugging of shoulders
+and frowning of brow worthy of Milo of Crotona. He carried this manner
+so far that he never used less apparent effort even to lift the lightest
+objects, and one day when he held in his right hand a basket of old
+papers I saw him extend his left arm horizontally as if to make a
+counterpoise to the tremendous weight.
+
+I ought to say that this robust creature inspired me with a profound
+respect, for I was then, even more than to-day, physically weak and
+delicate, and in consequence filled with admiration for that energetic
+physique which I lacked.
+
+The conversations of Meurtrier were not of a nature to diminish the
+admiration with which he inspired me.
+
+In the summer, above all, on Monday mornings, when we had returned to
+the office after our Sunday holiday, he had an inexhaustible fund of
+stories concerning his adventures and feats of strength. After taking
+off his felt-hat, his coat, and his vest, and wiping the perspiration
+from his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt, to indicate his sanguine
+and ardent temperament, he would thrust his hands deep in the pockets of
+his trousers, and, standing near me in an attitude of perpendicular
+solidity, begin a monologue something as follows:
+
+"What a Sunday, my boy! Positively no fatigue can lay me up. Think of
+it: yesterday was the regatta at Joinville-le-Pont; at six o'clock in
+the morning the rendezvous at Bercy, at The Mariners, for the crew of
+the _Marsouin_; the sun is up; a glass of white wine and we jump into
+our rowing suits, seize an oar and give way--one-two, one-two--as far as
+Joinville; then overboard for a swim before breakfast--strip to swimming
+drawers, a jump overboard, and look out for squalls. After my bath I
+have the appetite of a tiger. Good! I seize the boat by one hand and I
+call out, 'Charpentier, pass me a small ham.' Three motions in one time
+and I have finished it to the bone. 'Charpentier, pass me the
+brandy-flask.' Three swallows and it is empty."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+So the description would continue--dazzling, Homeric.
+
+"It is the hour for the regatta--noon--the sun just overhead. The boats
+draw up in line on the sparkling river, before a tent gaudy with
+streamers. On the bank the mayor with his staff of office, gendarmes in
+yellow shoulder-belts, and a swarm of summer dresses, open parasols, and
+straw hats. Bang! the signal-gun is fired. The _Marsouin_ shoots ahead
+of all her competitors and easily gains the prize--and no fatigue! We go
+around Marne, and, returning, dine at Créteil. How cool the evening in
+the dusky arbor, where pipes glow through the darkness, and moths singe
+their wings in the flame of the _omelette au kirsch_. At the end of a
+dessert, served on decorated plates, we hear from the ball-room the call
+of the cornet--'Take places for the quadrille!' But already a rival
+crew, beaten that same morning, has monopolized the prettiest girls. A
+fight!--teeth broken, eyes blackened, ugly falls, and whacks below the
+belt; in a word, a poem of physical enthusiasm, of noisy hilarity, of
+animal spirits, without speaking of the return at midnight, through
+crowded stations, with girls whom we lift into the cars, friends
+separated calling from one end of the train to the other, and fellows
+playing a horn upon the roof."
+
+And the evenings of my astonishing companion were not less full of
+adventure than his Sundays. Collar-and-elbow wrestling in a tent, under
+the red light of torches, between him--simple amateur--and Du Bois, the
+iron man, in person; rat-chases near the mouths of sewers, with dogs as
+fierce as tigers; sanguinary encounters at night, in the most dangerous
+quarters, with ruffians and nose-eaters, were the most insignificant
+episodes of his nightly career. Nor do I dare relate other adventures of
+a more intimate character, from which, as the writers of an earlier day
+would say in noble style, a pen the least timorous would recoil with
+horror.
+
+However painful it may be to confess an unworthy sentiment, I am obliged
+to say that my admiration for Meurtrier was not unmixed with regret and
+bitterness. Perhaps there was mingled with it something of envy. But the
+recitation of his most marvellous exploits had never awakened in me the
+least feeling of incredulity, and Achille Meurtrier easily took his
+place in my mind among heroes and demigods, between Roland and
+Pirithous.
+
+
+II.
+
+At this time I was a great wanderer in the suburbs, and I occupied the
+leisure of my summer evenings by solitary walks in those distant
+regions, as unknown to the Parisians of the boulevards as the country of
+the Caribbees, and of whose sombre charm I endeavored later to tell in
+verse.
+
+One evening in July, hot and dusty, at the hour when the first
+gas-lights were beginning to twinkle in the misty twilight, I was
+walking slowly from Vaugirard through one of those long and depressing
+suburban streets lined on each side by houses of unequal height, whose
+porters and porteresses, in shirt sleeves and in calico, sat on the
+steps and imagined that they were taking the fresh air. Hardly any one
+passing in the whole street; perhaps, from end to end, a mason, white
+with plaster, a sergeant-de-ville, a child carrying home a four-pound
+loaf larger than himself, or a young girl hurrying on in hat and cloak,
+with a leather bag on her arm; and every quarter-hour the half-empty
+omnibus coming back to its place of departure with the heavy trot of its
+tired horses.
+
+Stumbling now and then on the pavement--for asphalt is an unknown luxury
+in these places--I went down the street, tasting all the delights of a
+stroller. Sometimes I stopped before a vacant lot to watch, through the
+broken boards of the fence, the fading glories of the setting sun and
+the black silhouettes of the chimneys thrown against a greenish sky.
+Sometimes, through an open window on the ground-floor, I caught sight of
+an interior, picturesque and familiar: here a jolly-looking laundress
+holding her flat-iron to her cheek; there workmen sitting at tables and
+smoking in the basement of a cabaret, while an old Bohemian with long
+gray hair, standing before them, sang something about "Liberty,"
+accompanying himself on a guitar about the color of bouillon--the scenes
+of Chardin and Van Ostade.
+
+Suddenly I stopped.
+
+One of these personal pictures had caught my eye by its domestic and
+charming simplicity.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+She looked so happy and peaceful in her quiet little room, the dear old
+lady in her black gown and widow's cap, leaning back in an easy-chair
+covered with green Utrecht velvet, and sitting quietly with her hands
+folded on her lap. Everything around her was so old and simple, and
+seemed to have been preserved, less through a wise economy than on
+account of hallowed memories, since the honey-moon with monsieur of the
+high complexion, in a frock-coat and flowered waistcoat, whose oval
+crayon ornamented the wall. By two lamps on the mantle-shelf every
+detail of the old-fashioned furniture could be distinguished, from the
+clock on a fish of artificial and painted marble to the old and
+antiquated piano, on which, without doubt, as a young girl, in
+leg-of-mutton sleeves and with hair dressed _à la Grecque_, she had
+played the airs of Romagnesi.
+
+Certainly a loved and only daughter, remaining unmarried through her
+affection for her mother, piously watched over the last years of the
+widow. It was she, I was sure, who had so tenderly placed her dear
+mother; she who had put the ottoman under her feet, she who had put near
+her the inlaid table, and arranged on it the waiter and two cups. I
+expected already to see her coming in carrying the evening coffee--the
+sweet, calm girl, who should be dressed in mourning like the widow, and
+resemble her very much.
+
+Absorbed by the contemplation of a scene so sympathetic, and by the
+pleasure of imagining that humble poem, I remained standing some steps
+from the open window, sure of not being noticed in the dusky street,
+when I saw a door open and there appeared--oh, how far he was from my
+thoughts at that moment--my friend Meurtrier himself, the formidable
+hero of tilts on the river and frays in unknown places.
+
+A sudden doubt crossed me. I felt that I was on the point of discovering
+a mystery.
+
+It was indeed he. His terrible hairy hand held a tiny silver coffee-pot,
+and he was followed by a poodle which greatly embarrassed his steps--a
+valiant and classic poodle, the poodle of blind clarionet-players, a
+poor beggar's poodle, a poodle clipped like a lion, with hairy ruffles
+on his four paws, and a white mustache like a general of the Gymnase.
+
+"Mamma," said the giant, in a tone of ineffable tenderness, "here is
+your coffee. I am sure that you will find it nice to-night. The water
+was boiling well, and I poured it on drop by drop."
+
+"Thank you," said the old lady, rolling her easy-chair to the table with
+an air; "thank you, my little Achille. Your dear father said many a time
+that there was not my equal at making coffee--he was so kind and
+indulgent, the dear, good man--but I begin to believe that you are even
+better than I."
+
+At that moment, and while Meurtrier was pouring out the coffee with all
+the delicacy of a young girl, the poodle, excited no doubt by the
+uncovered sugar, placed his forepaws on the lap of his mistress.
+
+"Down, Médor," she cried, with a benevolent indignation. "Did any one
+ever see such a troublesome animal? Look here, sir! you know very well
+that your master never fails to give you the last of his cup.
+By-the-way," added the widow, addressing her son, "you have taken the
+poor fellow out, have you not?"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Certainly, mamma," he replied, in a tone that was almost infantile. "I
+have just been to the creamery for your morning milk, and I put the
+leash and collar on Médor and took him with me."
+
+"And he has attended to all his little wants?"
+
+"Don't be disturbed. He doesn't want anything."
+
+Reassured on this point, important to canine hygiene, the good dame
+drank her coffee, between her son and her dog, who each regarded her
+with an inexpressible tenderness.
+
+It was assuredly unnecessary to see or hear more. I had already descried
+what a peaceful family life--upright, pure, and devoted--my friend
+Meurtrier hid under his chimerical gasconades. But the spectacle with
+which chance had favored me was at once so droll and so touching that I
+could not resist the temptation to watch for some moments longer. That
+indiscretion sufficed to show me the whole truth.
+
+Yes, this type of roisterers, who seemed to have stepped from one of the
+romances of Paul de Kock--this athlete, this despot of bar-rooms and
+public-houses--performed simply and courageously, in these lowly rooms
+in the suburbs, the sublime duties of a sister of charity. This intrepid
+oarsman had never made a longer voyage than to conduct his mother to
+mass or vespers every Sunday. This billiard expert knew only how to play
+bézique. This trainer of bull-dogs was the submissive slave of a
+poodle. This Mauvaise-Philibert was an Antigone.
+
+
+III.
+
+The next morning, on arriving at the office, I asked Meurtrier how he
+had employed the previous evening, and he instantly improvised, without
+a moment's hesitation, an account of a sharp encounter on the boulevard
+at two in the morning, when he had knocked down with a single blow of
+his fist, having passed his thumb through the ring of his keys, a
+terrible street rough. I listened, smiling ironically, and thinking to
+confound him; but remembering how respectable a virtue is which is
+hidden even under an absurdity, I struck him amicably on the shoulder,
+and said, with conviction:
+
+"Meurtrier, you are a hero!"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Ten Tales, by François Coppée
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Ten Tales, by François Coppée
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Ten Tales
+
+Author: François Coppée
+
+Contributor: Brander Matthews
+
+Illustrator: Albert E. Sterner
+
+Translator: Warren Walter Learned
+
+Release Date: January 15, 2007 [EBook #20380]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TEN TALES ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+	<div id="front_matter">
+		<div id="frontispiece" class="figcenter">
+			<img src="images/fig001.jpg" alt="An engraved portrait of the author." title="FRANÇOIS COPPÉE." />
+			<p class="caption">FRANÇOIS COPPÉE.</p>
+		</div>
+		<div id="title_page">
+			<p class="supertitle">FROM THE FRENCH</p>
+
+			<h1 class="title">Ten Tales</h1>
+
+			<p class="stopword">By</p>
+
+			<p class="author">François Coppée</p>
+
+			<p class="other_contributors">Translated by <span class="special_name">Walter Learned</span>,
+			with fifty pen-and-ink drawings by
+			<span class="special_name">Albert E. Sterner</span>, and an introduction
+			by <span class="special_name">Brander Matthews</span></p>
+
+			<div id="pub_info">
+				<p class="location">NEW YORK</p>
+				<p class="publisher">HARPER &amp; BROTHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE</p>
+				<p class="pub_date">1891</p>
+			</div>
+		</div>
+		<div id="copyright_page">
+			<p>Copyright, 1890, by <span class="special_name">Harper &amp; Brothers</span>.</p>
+			<p class="rights_statement">All rights reserved.</p>
+		</div>
+		<div id="contents">
+			<h2>Contents</h2>
+			<ul>
+				<li><a href="#tale_1">THE CAPTAIN&#8217;S VICES</a></li>
+				<li><a href="#tale_2">TWO CLOWNS</a></li>
+				<li><a href="#tale_3">A VOLUNTARY DEATH</a></li>
+				<li><a href="#tale_4">A DRAMATIC FUNERAL</a></li>
+				<li><a href="#tale_5">THE SUBSTITUTE</a></li>
+				<li><a href="#tale_6">AT TABLE</a></li>
+				<li><a href="#tale_7">AN ACCIDENT</a></li>
+				<li><a href="#tale_8">THE SABOTS OF LITTLE WOLFF</a></li>
+				<li><a href="#tale_9">THE FOSTER SISTER</a></li>
+				<li><a href="#tale_10">MY FRIEND MEURTRIER</a></li>
+			</ul>
+		</div>
+		<div id="introduction">
+			<h2><span class="pagenum"><a id="pageix" name="pageix"></a>ix</span>INTRODUCTION.</h2>
+			<p>The <i>conte</i> is a form of fiction in which the
+			French have always delighted and in which
+			they have always excelled, from the days of
+			the <i>jongleurs</i> and the <i>trouvères</i>, past the periods
+			of La Fontaine and Voltaire, down to
+			the present. The <i>conte</i> is a tale, something
+			more than a sketch, it may be, and something
+			less than a short story. In verse it is at times
+			but a mere rhymed anecdote, or it may attain
+			almost to the direct swiftness of a ballad.
+			The <i>Canterbury Tales</i> are <i>contes</i>, most
+			of them, if not all; and so are some of the
+			<i>Tales of a Wayside Inn</i>. The free-and-easy
+			tales of Prior were written in imitation
+			of the French <i>conte en vers</i>; and that,
+			likewise, was the model of more than one of
+			the lively narrative poems of Mr. Austin
+			Dobson.</p>
+
+			<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="pagex" name="pagex"></a>x</span>No one has succeeded more abundantly
+			in the <i>conte en vers</i> than M. Coppée. Where
+			was there ever anything better of its kind
+			than <i>L&#8217;Enfant de la Balle?</i>&#8212;that gentle
+			portrait of the Infant Phenomenon, framed
+			in a chain of occasional gibes at the sordid
+			ways of theatrical managers and at their hostility
+			towards poetic plays. Where is there
+			anything of a more simple pathos than
+			<i>L&#8217;Épave?</i>&#8212;that story of a sailor&#8217;s son
+			whom the widowed mother strives vainly to
+			keep from the cruel waves that killed his
+			father. (It is worthy of a parenthesis that
+			although the ship M. Coppée loves best is
+			that which sails the blue shield of the City
+			of Paris, he knows the sea also, and he depicts
+			sailors with affectionate fidelity.) But
+			whether at the sea-side by chance, or more
+			often in the streets of the city, the poet seeks
+			out for the subject of his story some incident
+			of daily occurrence made significant by his
+			interpretation; he chooses some character
+			common-place enough, but made firmer by
+			conflict with evil and by victory over self.
+			Those whom he puts into his poems are still
+			the humble, the forgotten, the neglected, the
+			unknown; and it is the feelings and the
+			<span class="pagenum"><a id="pagexi" name="pagexi"></a>xi</span>struggles of these that he tells us, with no
+			maudlin sentimentality, and with no dead
+			set at our sensibilities. The sub-title Mrs.
+			Stowe gave to <i>Uncle Tom&#8217;s Cabin</i> would
+			serve to cover most of M. Coppée&#8217;s <i>contes</i>
+			either in prose or verse; they are nearly
+			all pictures of <em>life among the lowly</em>. But
+			there is no forcing of the note in his painting
+			of poverty and labor; there is no harsh
+			juxtaposition of the blacks and the whites.
+			The tone is always manly and wholesome.</p>
+
+			<p><i>La Marchande de Journaux</i> and the other
+			little masterpieces of story-telling in verse
+			are unfortunately untranslatable, as are all
+			poems but a lyric or two, now and then,
+			by a happy accident. A translated poem is
+			a boiled strawberry, as some one once put it
+			brutally. But the tales which M. Coppée
+			has written in prose&#8212;a true poet&#8217;s prose,
+			nervous, vigorous, flexible, and firm&#8212;these
+			can be Englished by taking thought and
+			time and pains, without which a translation
+			is always a betrayal. Ten of these tales
+			have been rendered into English by Mr.
+			Learned; and the ten chosen for translation
+			are among the best of the two score and
+			more of M. Coppée&#8217;s <i>contes en prose</i>. These
+			<span class="pagenum"><a id="pagexii" name="pagexii"></a>xii</span>ten tales are fairly representative of his range
+			and variety. Compare, for example, the passion
+			in &#8220;The Foster Sister,&#8221; pure, burning
+			and fatal, with the Black Forest <i>naïveté</i> of
+			&#8220;The Sabots of Little Wolff.&#8221; Contrast the
+			touching pathos of &#8220;The Substitute,&#8221; poignant
+			in his magnificent self-sacrifice, by which
+			the man who has conquered his shameful
+			past goes back willingly to the horrible life
+			he has fled from that he may save from a
+			like degradation and from an inevitable moral
+			decay the one friend he has in the world,
+			all unworthy as this friend is&#8212;contrast
+			this with the story of the gigantic deeds
+			&#8220;My Friend Meurtrier&#8221; boasts about unceasingly,
+			not knowing that he has been discovered
+			in his little round of daily domestic
+			duties, making the coffee of his good old
+			mother and taking her poodle out for a walk.</p>
+
+			<p>Among these ten there are tales of all
+			sorts, from the tragic adventure of &#8220;An Accident&#8221;
+			to the pendent portraits of the &#8220;Two
+			Clowns,&#8221; cutting in its sarcasm, but not
+			bitter&#8212;from &#8220;The Captain&#8217;s Vices,&#8221; which
+			suggests at once George Eliot&#8217;s <i>Silas Marner</i>
+			and Mr. Austin Dobson&#8217;s <i>Tale of Polypheme</i>,
+			to the sombre revery of the poet &#8220;At
+			<span class="pagenum"><a id="pagexiii" name="pagexiii"></a>xiii</span>Table,&#8221; a sudden and searching light cast on
+			the labor and misery which underlies the luxury
+			of our complex modern existence. Like
+			&#8220;At Table,&#8221; &#8220;A Dramatic Funeral&#8221; is a picture
+			more than it is a story; it is a marvellous
+			reproduction of the factitious emotion of the
+			good-natured stage folk, who are prone to
+			overact even their own griefs and joys. &#8220;A
+			Dramatic Funeral&#8221; seems to me always as
+			though it might be a painting of M. Jean
+			Beraud, that most Parisian of artists, just as
+			certain stories of M. Guy de Maupassant
+			inevitably suggest the bold freedom of M.
+			Forain&#8217;s sketches in black-and-white.</p>
+
+			<p>An ardent admirer of the author of the stories
+			in <i>The Odd Number</i> has protested to me
+			that M. Coppée is not an etcher like M. de
+			Maupassant, but rather a painter in water-colors.
+			And why not? Thus might we call
+			M. Alphonse Daudet an artist in pastels, so
+			adroitly does he suggest the very bloom of
+			color. No doubt M. Coppée&#8217;s <i>contes</i> have
+			not the sharpness of M. de Maupassant&#8217;s,
+			nor the brilliancy of M. Daudet&#8217;s&#8212;but what
+			of it? They have qualities of their own; they
+			have sympathy, poetry, and a power of suggesting
+			pictures not exceeded, I think, by
+			<span class="pagenum"><a id="pagexiv" name="pagexiv"></a>xiv</span>those of either M. de Maupassant or M.
+			Daudet. M. Coppée&#8217;s street views in Paris,
+			his interiors, his impressionist sketches of
+			life under the shadows of Notre Dame, are
+			convincingly successful. They are intensely
+			to be enjoyed by those of us who take the
+			same keen delight in the varied phases of
+			life in New York. They are not, to my mind,
+			really rivalled either by those of M. de Maupassant,
+			who is a Norman by birth and a
+			nomad by choice, or by those of M. Daudet,
+			who is a native of Provence, although now
+			for thirty years a resident of Paris. M. Coppée
+			is a Parisian from his youth up, and even
+			in prose he is a poet; perhaps this is why
+			his pictures of Paris are unsurpassable in
+			their felicity and in their verity.</p>
+
+			<p>It may be fancy, but I seem to see also a
+			finer morality in M. Coppée&#8217;s work than in
+			M. de Maupassant&#8217;s or in M. Daudet&#8217;s or in
+			that of almost any other of the Parisian
+			story-tellers of to-day. In his tales we
+			breathe a purer moral atmosphere, more
+			wholesome and more bracing. It is not
+			that M. Coppée probably thinks of ethics
+			rather than æsthetics; in this respect his attitude
+			is undoubtedly that of the others;
+			<span class="pagenum"><a id="pagexv" name="pagexv"></a>xv</span>there is no sermon in his song&#8212;or at least
+			none for those who will not seek it for themselves;
+			there is never a hint of a preachment.
+			But for all that I have found in his
+			work a trace of the tonic morality which inheres
+			in Molière, for example, also a Parisian
+			by birth, and also in Rabelais, despite his
+			disguising grossness. This finer morality
+			comes possibly from a wider and a deeper
+			survey of the universe; and it is as different
+			as possible from the morality which is externally
+			applied and which always punishes
+			the villain in the fifth act.</p>
+
+			<p>It is of good augury for our own letters
+			that the best French fiction of to-day is getting
+			itself translated in the United States,
+			and that the liking for it is growing apace.
+			Fiction is more consciously an art in France
+			than anywhere else&#8212;perhaps partly because
+			the French are now foremost in nearly all
+			forms of artistic endeavor. In the short
+			story especially, in the tale, in the <i>conte</i>, their
+			supremacy is incontestable; and their skill
+			is shown and their æsthetic instinct exemplified
+			partly in the sense of form, in the
+			constructive method, which underlies the
+			best short stories, however trifling these may
+			<span class="pagenum"><a id="pagexvi" name="pagexvi"></a>xvi</span>appear to be, and partly in the rigorous suppression
+			of non-essentials, due in a measure,
+			it may be, to the example of Mérimee. That
+			is an example we in America may study to
+			advantage; and from the men who are writing
+			fiction in France we may gain much.
+			From the British fiction of this last quarter
+			of the nineteenth century little can be learned
+			by any one&#8212;less by us Americans in whom
+			the English tradition is still dominant. When
+			we look to France for an exemplar we may
+			find a model of value, but when we copy an
+			Englishman we are but echoing our own
+			faults. &#8220;The truth is,&#8221; said Mr. Lowell in
+			his memorable essay <i>On a Certain Condescension
+			in Foreigners</i>&#8212;&#8220;the truth is that we
+			are worth nothing except so far as we have
+			disinfected ourselves of Anglicism.&#8221;</p>
+
+			<p class="introducer">Brander Matthews.</p>
+		</div>
+	</div>
+
+	<div id="tale_1" class="tale">
+		<h2 class="tale_title"><span class="pagenum"><a id="page1" name="page1"></a>1</span>THE CAPTAIN&#8217;S VICES.</h2>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum blank_page"><a id="page2" name="page2"></a>2</span></p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page3" name="page3"></a>3</span></p>
+
+		<a class="figcenter" href="images/fig016.jpg"><img src="images/fig016a.jpg" alt="A small village. The text reads 'The Captain's Vices.'" title="The Captain's Vices. Click to see the whole illustration." /></a>
+
+		<a class="figleft" href="images/fig016.jpg"><img src="images/fig016b.jpg" alt="A group of five geese, walking down the left side of the page." title="Click to see the whole illustration." /></a>
+
+		<h3>I.</h3>
+
+		<p>It is of no importance,
+		the name of the little provincial
+		city where Captain
+		Mercadier&#8212;twenty-six
+		years of service, twenty-two
+		campaigns, and three
+		wounds&#8212;installed himself
+		when
+		he was retired
+		on a
+		pension.</p>
+
+		<a  class="figleft" href="images/fig016.jpg"><img src="images/fig016c.jpg" alt="Two more geese, strolling in the grass across the bottom of the page." title="Click to see the whole illustration." /></a>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page4" name="page4"></a>4</span>It was quite like all those other little villages
+		which solicit without obtaining it a
+		branch of the railway; just as if it were not
+		the sole dissipation of the natives to go every
+		day, at the same hour, to the Place de
+		la Fontaine to see the diligence come in at
+		full gallop, with its gay cracking of the whips
+		and clang of bells.</p>
+
+		<p>It was a place of three thousand inhabitants&#8212;ambitiously
+		denominated souls in the
+		statistical tables&#8212;and was exceedingly proud
+		of its title of chief city of the canton. It
+		had ramparts planted with trees, a pretty
+		river with good fishing, a church of the
+		charming epoch of the flamboyant Gothic,
+		disgraced by a frightful station of the cross,
+		brought directly from the quarter of Saint
+		Sulpice. Every Monday its market was gay
+		with great red and blue umbrellas, and
+		countrymen filled its streets in carts and
+		carriages. But for the rest of the week it
+		retired with delight into that silence and
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page5" name="page5"></a>5</span>solitude which made it so dear to its rustic
+		population. Its streets were paved with
+		cobble-stones; through the windows of the
+		ground-floor one could see samplers and
+		wax-flowers under glass domes, and, through
+		the gates of the gardens, statuettes of Napoleon
+		in shell-work. The principal inn was
+		naturally called the Shield of France; and
+		the town-clerk made rhymed acrostics for
+		the ladies of society.</p>
+
+		<p>Captain Mercadier had chosen that place
+		of retreat for the simple reason that he had
+		been born there, and because, in his noisy
+		childhood, he had pulled down the signs and
+		plugged up the bell-buttons. He returned
+		there to find neither relations, nor friends,
+		nor acquaintances; and the recollections of
+		his youth recalled only the angry faces of
+		shop-keepers who shook their fists at him
+		from the shop-doors, a catechism which
+		threatened him with hell, a school which
+		predicted the scaffold, and, finally, his departure
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page6" name="page6"></a>6</span>for his regiment, hastened by a paternal
+		malediction.</p>
+
+		<p>For the Captain was not a saintly man;
+		the old record of his punishment was black
+		with days in the guard-house inflicted for
+		breaches of discipline, absences from roll-calls,
+		and nocturnal uproars in the mess-room.
+		He had often narrowly escaped losing
+		his stripes as a corporal or a sergeant,
+		and he needed all the chance, all the license
+		of a campaigning life to gain his first epaulet.
+		Firm and brave soldier, he had passed
+		almost all his life in Algiers at that time when
+		our foot soldiers wore the high shako, white
+		shoulder-belts and huge cartridge-boxes.
+		He had had Lamoricière for commander.
+		The Due de Nemours, near whom he received
+		his first wound, had decorated him, and
+		when he was sergeant-major, Père Bugrand
+		had called him by his name and pulled his
+		ears. He had been a prisoner of Abd-el-Kader,
+		bearing the scar of a yataghan stroke
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page7" name="page7"></a>7</span>on his neck, of one ball in his shoulder and
+		another in his chest; and notwithstanding
+		absinthe, duels, debts of play, and almond-eyed
+		Jewesses, he fairly won, with the point
+		of the bayonet and sabre, his grade of captain
+		in the First Regiment of Sharp-shooters.</p>
+
+		<p>Captain Mercadier&#8212;twenty-six years of
+		service, twenty-two campaigns, and three
+		wounds&#8212;had just retired on his pension,
+		not quite two thousand francs, which, joined
+		to the two hundred and fifty francs from his
+		cross, placed him in that estate of honorable
+		penury which the State reserves for its old
+		servants.</p>
+
+		<p>His entry into his natal city was without
+		ostentation. He arrived one morning on
+		the imperiale of the diligence, chewing an
+		extinguished cigar, and already on good
+		terms with the conductor, to whom, during
+		his journey, he had related the passage of
+		the Porte de Fer; full of indulgence, moreover,
+		for the distractions of his auditor, who
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page8" name="page8"></a>8</span>often interrupted the recital by some oath
+		or epithet addressed to the off mare. When
+		the diligence stopped he threw on the sidewalk
+		his old valise, covered with railway
+		placards as numerous as the changes of
+		garrison that its proprietor had made, and
+		the idlers of the neighborhood were astonished
+		to see a man with a decoration&#8212;a
+		rare thing in the province&#8212;offer a glass of
+		wine to the coachman at the bar of an inn
+		near by.</p>
+
+		<p>He installed himself at once. In a house
+		in the outskirts, where two captive cows
+		lowed, and fowls and ducks passed and repassed
+		through the gate-way, a furnished
+		chamber was to let. Preceded by a masculine-looking
+		woman, the Captain climbed
+		the stair-way with its great wooden balusters,
+		perfumed by a strong odor of the stable, and
+		reached a great tiled room, whose walls were
+		covered with a bizarre paper representing,
+		printed in blue on a white background and
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page9" name="page9"></a>9</span>repeated infinitely, the picture of Joseph Poniatowski
+		crossing the Elster on his horse.
+		This monotonous decoration, recalling nevertheless
+		our military glories, fascinated the
+		Captain without doubt, for, without concerning
+		himself with the uncomfortable straw
+		chairs, the walnut furniture, or the little bed
+		with its yellowed curtain, he took the room
+		without hesitation. A quarter of an hour
+		was enough to empty his trunk, hang up his
+		clothes, put his boots in a corner, and ornament
+		the wall with a trophy composed of
+		three pipes, a sabre, and a pair of pistols.
+		After a visit to the grocer&#8217;s, over the way,
+		where he bought a pound of candles and
+		a bottle of rum, he returned, put his purchase
+		on the mantle-shelf, and looked around
+		him with an air of perfect satisfaction. And
+		then, with the promptitude of the camp, he
+		shaved without a mirror, brushed his coat,
+		cocked his hat over his ear, and went for a
+		walk in the village in search of a café.</p>
+
+		<h3><span class="pagenum"><a id="page10" name="page10"></a>10</span>II.</h3>
+
+		<p>It was an inveterate habit of the Captain
+		to spend much of his time at a café. It was
+		there that he satisfied at the same time the
+		three vices which reigned supreme in his
+		heart&#8212;tobacco, absinthe, and cards. It was
+		thus that he passed his life, and he could
+		have drawn a plan of all the places where
+		he had ever been stationed by their tobacco
+		shops, cafés, and military clubs. He never
+		felt himself so thoroughly at ease as when
+		sitting on a worn velvet bench before a
+		square of green cloth near a heap of beer-mugs
+		and saucers. His cigar never seemed
+		good unless he struck his match under the
+		marble of the table, and he never failed,
+		after hanging his hat and his sabre on a
+		hat-hook and settling himself comfortably,
+		by unloosing one or two buttons of his coat,
+		to breathe a profound sigh of relief, and exclaim,</p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page11" name="page11"></a>11</span>&#8220;That is better!&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>His first care was, therefore, to find an establishment
+		which he could frequent, and
+		after having gone around the village without
+		finding anything that suited him, he
+		stopped at last to regard with the eye of a
+		connoisseur the Café Prosper, situated at
+		the corner of the Place du Marché and the
+		Rue de la Pavoisse.</p>
+
+		<p>It was not his ideal. Some of the details
+		of the exterior were too provincial: the
+		waiter, in his black apron, for example, the
+		little stands in their green frames, the footstools,
+		and the wooden tables covered with
+		waxed cloth. But the interior pleased the
+		Captain. He was delighted upon his entrance
+		by the sound of the bell which was
+		touched by the fair and fleshy dame du
+		comptoir, in her light dress, with a poppy-colored
+		ribbon in her sleek hair. He saluted
+		her gallantly, and believed that she
+		sustained with sufficient majesty her triumphal
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page12" name="page12"></a>12</span>place between two piles of punch-bowls
+		properly crowned by billiard-balls. He
+		ascertained that the place was cheerful,
+		neat, and strewn evenly with yellow sand.
+		He walked around it, looking at himself in
+		the glasses as he passed; approved the panels
+		where guardsmen and amazons were
+		drinking champagne in a landscape filled
+		with red holly-hocks; called for his absinthe,
+		smoked, found the divan soft and the absinthe
+		good, and was indulgent enough not
+		to complain of the flies who bathed themselves
+		in his glass with true rustic familiarity.</p>
+
+		<p>Eight days later he had become one of
+		the pillars of the Café Prosper.</p>
+
+		<p>They soon learned his punctual habits
+		and anticipated his wishes, while he, in turn,
+		lunched with the patrons of the place&#8212;a
+		valuable recruit for those who haunted the
+		café, folks oppressed by the tedium of a
+		country life, for whom the arrival of that
+		new-comer, past master in all games, and
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page13" name="page13"></a>13</span>an admirable raconteur of his wars and his
+		loves, was a true stroke of good-fortune.
+		The Captain himself was delighted to tell his
+		stories to folks who were still ignorant of his
+		repertoire. <img class="figright" src="images/fig026.jpg" alt="A rotund man with small mustache stands with his hands in his pockets." /> There were fully
+		six months before him in
+		which to tell of his games,
+		his feats, his battles, the
+		retreat of Constantine, the
+		capture of Bou-Maza, and
+		the officers&#8217; receptions
+		with the concomitant intoxication
+		of rum-punch.</p>
+
+		<p>Human weakness! He
+		was by no means sorry, on
+		his part, to be something
+		of an oracle; he from whom the sub-lieutenants,
+		new-comers at Saint-Cyr, fled dismayed,
+		fearing his long stories.</p>
+
+		<p>His usual auditors were the keeper of
+		the café, a stupid and silent beer-cask, always
+		in his sleeved vest, and remarkable
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page14" name="page14"></a>14</span>only for his carved pipe; the bailiff, a scoffer,
+		dressed invariably in black, scorned for
+		his inelegant habit of carrying off what remained
+		of his sugar; the
+		town-clerk, the gentleman
+		of acrostics, a person of
+		much amiability and a feeble
+		constitution, who sent
+		to the illustrated journals
+		solutions of enigmas and rebuses;
+		and, lastly, the veterinary surgeon of
+		the place, the only one who, from his
+		position of atheist and democrat, was allowed
+		to contradict the Captain. <img class="figleft" src="images/fig027.jpg" alt="A bearded man wearing glasses sits with a glass before him." /> This practitioner,
+		a man with tufted whiskers and
+		eye-glasses, presided over the radical committee
+		of electors, and when the curé took
+		up a little collection among his devotees for
+		the purpose of adorning his church with
+		some frightful red and gilded statues, denounced,
+		in a letter to the <i>Siècle</i>, the cupidity
+		of the Jesuits.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page15" name="page15"></a>15</span>The Captain having gone out one evening
+		for some cigars after an animated political
+		discussion, the aforesaid veterinary grumbled
+		to himself certain phrases of heavy irritation
+		concerning &#8220;coming to the point,&#8221;
+		and &#8220;a mere fencing-master,&#8221; and &#8220;cutting
+		a figure.&#8221; But as the object of these vague
+		menaces suddenly returned, whistling a
+		march and beating time with his cane, the
+		incident was without result.</p>
+
+		<p>In short, the group lived harmoniously
+		together, and willingly permitted themselves
+		to be presided over by the new-comer, whose
+		white beard and martial bearing were quite
+		impressive. And the small city, proud of so
+		many things, was also proud of its retired
+		Captain.</p>
+
+
+		<h3>III.</h3>
+
+		<p>Perfect happiness exists nowhere, and
+		Captain Mercadier, who believed that he
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page16" name="page16"></a>16</span>had found it at the Café Prosper, soon recovered
+		from his illusion.</p>
+
+		<p>For one thing, on Mondays, the market-day,
+		the Café Prosper was untenantable.</p>
+
+		<p>From early morning it was overrun with
+		truck-peddlers, farmers, and poultrymen.
+		Heavy men with coarse voices, red necks,
+		and great whips in their hands, wearing blue
+		blouses and otter-skin caps, bargaining over
+		their cups, stamping their feet, striking their
+		fists, familiar with the servant, and bungling
+		at billiards.</p>
+
+		<p>When the Captain came, at eleven o&#8217;clock,
+		for his first glass of absinthe, he found this
+		crowd gathered, and already half-drunk, ordering
+		a quantity of lunches. His usual place
+		was taken, and he was served slowly and
+		badly. The bell was continually sounding,
+		and the proprietor and the waiter, with napkins
+		under their arms, were running distractedly
+		hither and thither. In short, it was an ill-omened
+		day, which upset his entire existence.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page17" name="page17"></a>17</span>Now, one Monday morning, when he was
+		resting quietly at home, being sure that the
+		café would be much too full and busy, the
+		mild radiance of the autumn sun persuaded
+		him to go down and sit upon the stone seat
+		by the side of the house.</p>
+		<div class="figcenter">
+		<img src="images/fig030.jpg" alt="A dapper man with tophat and cane talks with a wretched-looking girl with a wooden leg. Three geese are nearby." />
+		</div>
+		<p class="continued"> He was sitting
+		there, depressed and smoking a damp cigar,
+		when he saw coming down the end of the
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page18" name="page18"></a>18</span>street&#8212;it was a badly paved lane leading
+		out into the country&#8212;a little girl of eight or
+		ten, driving before her a half-dozen geese.</p>
+
+		<p>As the Captain looked carelessly at the
+		child he saw that she had a wooden leg.</p>
+
+		<p>There was nothing paternal in the heart
+		of the soldier. It was that of a hardened
+		bachelor. In former days, in the streets of
+		Algiers, when the little begging Arabs pursued
+		him with their importunate prayers,
+		the Captain had often chased them away
+		with blows from his whip; and on those rare
+		occasions when he had penetrated the nomadic
+		household of some comrade who was
+		married and the father of a family, he had
+		gone away cursing the crying babies and
+		awkward children who had touched with their
+		greasy hands the gilding on his uniform.</p>
+
+		<p>But the sight of that particular infirmity,
+		which recalled to him the sad spectacle of
+		wounds and amputations, touched, on that
+		account, the old soldier. He felt almost a
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page19" name="page19"></a>19</span>constriction of the heart at the sight of that
+		sorry creature, half-clothed in her tattered
+		petticoats and old chemise, bravely running
+		along behind her geese, her bare foot in the
+		dust, and limping on her ill-made wooden
+		stump.</p>
+
+		<p>The geese, recognizing their home, turned
+		into the poultry-yard, and the little one was
+		about to follow them when the Captain
+		stopped her with this question:</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Eh! little girl, what&#8217;s your name?&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Pierette, monsieur, at your service,&#8221; she
+		answered, looking at him with her great
+		black eyes, and pushing her disordered locks
+		from her forehead.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;You live in this house, then? I haven&#8217;t
+		seen you before.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Yes, I know you pretty well, though, for
+		I sleep under the stairs, and you wake me
+		up every evening when you come home.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Is that so, my girl? Ah, well, I must walk
+		on my toes in future. How old are you?&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page20" name="page20"></a>20</span>&#8220;Nine, monsieur, come All-Saints day.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Is the landlady here a relative of yours?&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;No, monsieur, I am in service.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;And they give you?&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Soup, and a bed under the stairs.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;And how came you to be lame like that,
+		my poor little one?&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;By the kick of a cow when I was five.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Have you a father or mother?&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>The child blushed under her sunburned
+		skin. &#8220;I came from the Foundling Hospital,&#8221;
+		she said, briefly. Then, with an awkward
+		courtesy, she passed limping into the
+		house, and the Captain heard, as she went
+		away on the pavement of the court, the hard
+		sound of the little wooden leg.</p>
+
+		<p>Good heavens! he thought, mechanically
+		walking towards his café, that&#8217;s not at all the
+		thing. A soldier, at least, they pack off to
+		the Invalides, with the money from his medal
+		to keep him in tobacco. For an officer, they
+		fix up a collectorship, and he marries somewhere
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page21" name="page21"></a>21</span>in the provinces. But this poor girl,
+		with such an infirmity,&#8212;that&#8217;s not at all the
+		thing!</p>
+
+		<p>Having established in these terms the injustice
+		of fate, the Captain reached the
+		threshold of his dear café, but he saw there
+		such a mob of blue blouses, he heard such a
+		din of laughter and click of billiard-balls,
+		that he returned home in very bad humor.</p>
+
+		<p>His room&#8212;it was, perhaps, the first time
+		that he had spent in it several hours of the day&#8212;looked
+		rather shabby. His bed-curtains
+		were the color of an old pipe. The fireplace
+		was heaped with old cigar-stumps, and one
+		could have written his name in the dust on
+		the furniture. He contemplated for some
+		time the walls where the sublime lancer of
+		Leipsic rode a hundred times to a glorious
+		death. Then, for an occupation, he passed
+		his wardrobe in review. It was a lamentable
+		series of bottomless pockets, socks full of
+		holes, and shirts without buttons.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page22" name="page22"></a>22</span>&#8220;I must have a servant,&#8221; he said.</p>
+
+		<p>Then he thought of the little lame girl.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s what I&#8217;ll do. I&#8217;ll hire the next
+		little room; winter is coming, and the little
+		thing will freeze under the stairs. She will
+		look after my clothes and my linen and
+		keep the barracks clean. A valet, how&#8217;s
+		that?&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>But a cloud darkened the comfortable picture.
+		The Captain remembered that quarter-day
+		was still a long way off, and that his
+		account at the Cafe Prosper was assuming
+		alarming proportions.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Not rich enough,&#8221; he said to himself.
+		&#8220;And in the mean time they are robbing me
+		down there. That is positive. The board
+		is too high, and that wretch of a veterinary
+		plays bezique much too well. I have paid
+		his way now for eight days. Who knows?
+		Perhaps I had better put the little one in
+		charge of the mess, soup au café in the morning,
+		stew at noon, and ragout every evening&#8212;campaign
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page23" name="page23"></a>23</span>life, in fact. I know all
+		about that. Quite the thing to try.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>Going out he saw at once the mistress of
+		the house, a great brutal peasant, and the
+		little lame girl, who both, with pitchforks in
+		their hands, were turning over the dung-heap
+		in the yard.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Does she know how to sew, to wash, to
+		make soup?&#8221; he asked, brusquely.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Who&#8212;Pierette? Why?&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Does she know a little of all that?&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Of course. She came from an asylum
+		where they learn how to take care of themselves.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Tell me, little one,&#8221; added the Captain,
+		speaking to the child, &#8220;I am not scaring
+		you&#8212;no? Well, my good woman, will you
+		let me have her? I want a servant.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;If you will support her.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Then that is finished. Here are twenty
+		francs. Let her have to-night a dress and a
+		shoe. To-morrow we&#8217;ll arrange the rest.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page24" name="page24"></a>24</span>And, with a friendly tap on Pierette&#8217;s
+		cheek, the Captain went off, delighted that
+		everything was concluded. Possibly he
+		thought he would have to cut off some
+		glasses of beer and absinthe, and be cautious
+		of the veterinary&#8217;s skill at bezique.
+		But that was not worth speaking of, and the
+		new arrangement would be quite the thing.</p>
+
+
+		<h3>IV.</h3>
+
+		<p>Captain, you are a coward!</p>
+
+		<p>Such was the apostrophe with which the
+		caryatides of the Café Prosper hereafter
+		greeted the Captain, whose visits became
+		rarer day by day.</p>
+
+		<p>For the poor man had not seen all the
+		consequences of his good action. The suppression
+		of his morning absinthe had been
+		sufficient to cover the modest expense of
+		Pierette&#8217;s keeping, but how many other reforms
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page25" name="page25"></a>25</span>were needed to provide for the unforeseen
+		expenses of his bachelor establishment!
+		Full of gratitude, the little girl wished to
+		prove it by her zeal. Already the aspect of
+		his room was changed. The furniture was
+		dusted and arranged, the fireplace cleaned,
+		the floor polished, and spiders no longer
+		spun their webs over the deaths of Poniatowski
+		in the corner. When the Captain came
+		home the inviting odor of cabbage-soup saluted
+		him on the staircase, and the sight of
+		the smoking plates on the coarse but white
+		table-cloth, with a bunch of flowers and polished
+		table-ware, was quite enough to give
+		him a good appetite. Pierette profited by
+		the good-humor of her master to confess
+		some of her secret ambitions. She wanted
+		andirons for the fireplace, where there was
+		now always a fire burning, and a mould for
+		the little cakes that she knew how to make
+		so well. And the Captain, smiling at the
+		child&#8217;s requests, but charmed with the homelike
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page26" name="page26"></a>26</span><img class="figleft" src="images/fig039.jpg" alt="A man sits with his chin in his hand." />atmosphere of his
+		room, promised to
+		think of it, and on the
+		morrow replaced his
+		Londres by cigars for
+		a sou each, hesitated
+		to offer five points at
+		ecarté, and refused his
+		third glass of beer or his second glass of
+		chartreuse.</p>
+
+		<p>Certainly the struggle was long; it was
+		cruel. Often, when the hour came for the
+		glass that was denied him by economy, when
+		thirst seized him by the throat, the Captain
+		was forced to make an heroic effort to withdraw
+		his hand already reaching out towards
+		the swan&#8217;s beak of the café; many times he
+		wandered about, dreaming of the king turned
+		up and of quint and quatorze. But he almost
+		always courageously returned home;
+		and as he loved Pierette more through every
+		sacrifice that he made for her, he embraced
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page27" name="page27"></a>27</span>her more fondly every day. For he
+		did embrace her. She was no longer his
+		servant. When once she stood before him
+		at the table, calling him &#8220;Monsieur,&#8221; and
+		so respectful in her bearing, he could not
+		stand it, but seizing her by her two hands,
+		he said to her, eagerly:</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;First embrace me, and then sit down
+		and do me the pleasure of speaking familiarly,
+		confound it!&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>And so to-day it is accomplished. Meeting
+		a child has saved that man from an
+		ignominious age.</p>
+
+		<p>He has substituted for his old vices a
+		young passion. He adores the little lame
+		girl who skips around him in his room,
+		which is comfortable and well furnished.</p>
+
+		<p>He has already taught Pierette to read,
+		and, moreover, recalling his calligraphy as a
+		sergeant-major, he has set her copies in writing.
+		It is his greatest joy when the child,
+		bending attentively over her paper, and sometimes
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page28" name="page28"></a>28</span>making a blot which she quickly licks
+		up with her tongue, has succeeded in copying
+		all the letters of an interminable adverb
+		in <i>ment</i>. His uneasiness is in thinking that
+		he is growing old and has nothing to leave
+		his adopted child.</p>
+
+		<p>And so he becomes almost a miser; he
+		theorizes; he wishes to give up his tobacco,
+		although Pierette herself fills and lights his
+		pipe for him. He counts on saving from
+		his slender income enough to purchase a
+		little stock of fancy goods. Then when he
+		is dead she can live an obscure and tranquil
+		life, hanging up somewhere in the back
+		room of the small shop an old cross of the
+		Legion of Honor, her souvenir of the Captain.</p>
+
+		<p>Every day he goes to walk with her on
+		the rampart. Sometimes they are passed by
+		folks who are strangers in the village, who
+		look with compassionate surprise at the old
+		soldier, spared from the wars, and the poor
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page29" name="page29"></a>29</span>lame child. And he is moved&#8212;oh, so pleasantly,
+		almost to tears&#8212;when one of the
+		passers-by whispers, as they pass:</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Poor father! Yet how pretty his daughter
+		is.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<div class="figcenter last_picture">
+			<img src="images/fig042.jpg" alt="A still life with wine bottles and a glass." />
+		</div>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum blank_page"><a id="page30" name="page30"></a>30</span></p>
+
+	</div>
+
+	<div id="tale_2" class="tale">
+
+		<h2 class="tale_title"><span class="pagenum"><a id="page31" name="page31"></a>31</span>TWO CLOWNS.</h2>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum blank_page"><a id="page32" name="page32"></a>32</span></p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page33" name="page33"></a>33</span></p>
+
+		<div class="figcenter first_picture">
+			<img src="images/fig046.jpg" alt="A smiling clown-face to the left, a sad one to the right, with a devilish looking man behind." title="Two Clowns" />
+		</div>
+
+		<p>The night was clear and
+		glittering with stars, and there
+		was a crowd upon the market-place. They
+		crowded in gaping delight around the tent
+		of some strolling acrobats, where red and
+		smoking lanterns lighted the performance
+		which was just beginning. Rolling their
+		muscular limbs in dirty wraps, and decorated
+		from head to foot with tawdry ruffles of
+		fur, the athletes&#8212;four boyish ruffians with
+		vulgar heads&#8212;were ranged in line before
+		the painted canvas which represented their
+		exploits; they stood there with their heads
+		down, their legs apart, and their muscular
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page34" name="page34"></a>34</span>arms crossed upon their chests. Near them
+		the marshal of the establishment, an old
+		sub-officer, with the drooping mustache of
+		a brandy-drinker, belted in at the waist, a
+		heart of red cloth on his leather breastplate,
+		leaned on a pair of foils. The feminine
+		attraction, a rose in her hair, with a man&#8217;s
+		overcoat protecting her against the freshness
+		of the evening air over her ballet-dancer&#8217;s
+		dress, played at the same time the
+		cymbals and the big bass-drum a desperate
+		accompaniment to three measures of a polka,
+		always the same, which were murdered by a
+		blind clarionet player; and the ringmaster,
+		a sort of Hercules with the face of a galley-slave,
+		a Silenus in scarlet drawers, roared
+		out his furious appeal in a loud voice.
+		Mixed with the crowd of loafers, soldiers,
+		and women, I regarded the abject spectacle
+		with disgust&#8212;the last vestige of the olympic
+		games.</p>
+
+		<p>Suddenly the music ceased, and the crowd
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page35" name="page35"></a>35</span>broke into roars of laughter. The clown had
+		just made his appearance.</p>
+
+		<p>He wore the ordinary costume of his kind,
+		the short vest and many-colored stockings
+		of the peasants of the opera comique, the
+		three horns turned
+		backward, the red wig
+		with its turned-up
+		queue and its butterfly
+		on the end. <img class="figright" src="images/fig048.jpg" alt="A 3/4-length portrait of a clown, with arms akimbo." />He
+		was a young man, but
+		alas, his face, whitened
+		with flour, was
+		already seamed with
+		vice. Planting himself before the public,
+		and opening his mouth in a silly grin, he
+		showed bleeding gums almost devoid of
+		teeth. The ringmaster kicked him violently
+		from behind.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Come in,&#8221; he said, tranquilly.</p>
+
+		<p>Then the traditional dialogue, punctuated
+		by slaps in the face, began between the
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page36" name="page36"></a>36</span>mountebank and his clown, and the entire
+		audience applauded these souvenirs of the
+		classic farce, fallen from the theatre to the
+		stage of the mountebank, and whose humor,
+		coarse but pungent, seemed a drunken echo
+		of the laughter of Molière. The clown exerted
+		his low talent, throwing out at each
+		moment some low jest, some immodest pun,
+		to which his master, simulating a prudish
+		indignation, responded by thumps on the
+		head. But the adroit clown excelled in the
+		art of receiving affronts. He knew to perfection
+		how to bend his body like a bow
+		under the impulse of a kick, and having received
+		on one cheek a full-armed blow, he
+		stuffed his tongue at once in that cheek
+		and began to whine until a new blow passed
+		the artificial swelling into the other cheek.
+		Blows showered on him as thick as hail, and,
+		disappearing under a shower of slaps, the
+		flour on his face and the red powder of his
+		wig enveloped him like a cloud. At last he
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page37" name="page37"></a>37</span>exhausted all his resources of low scurrility,
+		ridiculous contortions, grotesque grimaces,
+		pretended aches, falls at full length, etc., till
+		the ringmaster, judging this gratuitous show
+		long enough, and that the public were sufficiently
+		fascinated, sent him off with a final
+		cuff.</p>
+
+		<p>Then the music began again with such
+		violence that the painted canvas trembled.
+		The clown, having seized the sticks of a
+		drum fixed on one of the beams of the scaffolding,
+		mingled a triumphant rataplan with
+		the bombardment of the bass-drum, the
+		cracked thunder of the cymbals, and the
+		distracted wail of the clarionet. The ringmaster,
+		roaring again with his heavy voice,
+		announced that the show was about to begin,
+		and, as a sign of defiance, he threw two
+		or three old fencing-gloves among his fellow-wrestlers.
+		The crowd rushed into the
+		tent, and soon only a small group of loungers
+		remained in front of the deserted stage.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page38" name="page38"></a>38</span>I was just going off, when I noticed by
+		my side an old woman who looked with
+		strange persistence at the empty stage where
+		the red lights were still burning. She wore
+		the linen bonnet and the crossed fichu of
+		the poorer class of women, and her whole
+		appearance was that of neatness and honesty.
+		Asking myself what powerful interest
+		could hold her in such a place, I looked at
+		her with more attention, and I saw that her
+		eyes were full of tears, and that her hands,
+		which she had crossed over her breast, were
+		trembling with emotion.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;What is the matter with you?&#8221; I said,
+		coming near to her, impelled by an instinctive
+		sympathy.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;The matter, good sir?&#8221; cried the old
+		woman, bursting into tears. &#8220;Passing by
+		this market-place&#8212;oh, quite by chance, I
+		tell you (I have no heart for pleasure)&#8212;passing
+		before that dreadful tent, I have just
+		seen in the wretch who has received all those
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page39" name="page39"></a>39</span>blows my only son, sir, my sole child! It is
+		the grief of my life, do you see? I never
+		knew what had become of him since&#8212;oh,
+		since my poor husband sent him away to
+		sea as a cabin-boy. He was apprenticed to
+		an ironmonger, sir. He robbed his master&#8212;he,
+		the son of two honest people. As for
+		me, I would have pardoned him. You know
+		what mothers are. But my man, when they
+		came and told him that his son had stolen,
+		he was like a madman. It was that that
+		killed him, I am sure. I have never seen
+		the unhappy child again. For five years I
+		have heard nothing from him. I sought to
+		deceive myself. I said experience will reform
+		him, and there&#8212;there&#8212;just now&#8212;&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>And the poor old woman sobbed in a pitiful
+		way. A crowd had formed. It was no
+		longer to me that she spoke; it was not to
+		the crowd; it was to herself, to the bitterness
+		of her own heart.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;He, my Adrien, the child that I nourished
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page40" name="page40"></a>40</span>at my own breast, a mountebank in a
+		travelling theatre! struck and insulted before
+		the whole world! He, whom I saved
+		at four when he was so ill, a clown in a tent!
+		He, the beautiful baby of whom I was so
+		proud, whom I made the neighbors admire
+		when he was so small that he rolled naked
+		on my knee, holding his little foot in his
+		hand!&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>Suddenly at this point in her heart-breaking
+		monologue the old woman perceived the
+		crowd listening to her. She looked on the
+		spectators in astonishment, as one who starts
+		from sleep. She recognized me who had
+		questioned her, and became frightfully pale.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;What have I said?&#8221; she stammered.
+		&#8220;Let me pass.&#8221; And brusquely putting us
+		aside with an imperious gesture, she went
+		off with a rapid step, and disappeared in the
+		night.</p>
+
+		<p>The adventure made a lively impression
+		on me. I thought often of it, and after that,
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page41" name="page41"></a>41</span>when I saw before my eyes some wretched
+		and degraded creature, some woman of the
+		street, trailing her light silk skirts in the flare
+		of a gas-jet, some drunken idler leaning on
+		the bar of a café and bending his bloated
+		face over his glass of absinthe, I have
+		thought, &#8220;Is it possible that that being can
+		ever have been a little child?&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>Now, some little time after that <i>rencontre</i>&#8212;let
+		us be careful not to indicate the date&#8212;I
+		was taken into a gallery of the Chamber
+		of Deputies to be present at a sensational
+		sitting. The law that they were discussing
+		on that day is of no importance, but it was
+		the old and tedious story: a Ministerial candidate,
+		formerly in the Opposition, proposed
+		to strike a blow at some liberty&#8212;I don&#8217;t
+		know what&#8212;which he had formerly demanded
+		with virulence and force. And, more
+		than that, the man in power was going to
+		forfeit his word to the tribune. In good
+		French that is called &#8220;to betray,&#8221; but in
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page42" name="page42"></a>42</span>parliamentary language they employ the
+		phrase, &#8220;accomplish a change of base.&#8221;
+		Opinion was divided, the majority uncertain;
+		and upon his speech would depend the political
+		future of the speaker. Therefore, on
+		that day, the legislators were in their places,
+		and the Chamber did not resemble, as usual,
+		a class of noisy boys presided over by a
+		master without authority. The lunch-counter
+		was deserted, and the deputies of the
+		Centre themselves were not absorbed in their
+		personal correspondence.</p>
+
+		<p>The orator mounted the tribune. He had
+		the commonplace figure of a verbose orator:
+		bold eye, protruding lips, as enlarged by the
+		abuse of words. He began by fingering his
+		notes with an important air, tasting the glass
+		of sweetened water, and settling himself in
+		his place; then he started a babble of words
+		without sense, with the nauseous facility of
+		the bar; misusing vague ideas, abstract
+		terms, and words in <i>ly</i> and <i>ion</i>, stereotyped
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page43" name="page43"></a>43</span>words, and ready-made phrases. A flattering
+		murmur greeted the end of his exordium;
+		for the French people in general, and the
+		political world in particular, manifest a depraved
+		taste for that sort of eloquence. Encouraged,
+		the fine speaker entered the heart
+		of his subject, and cynically sang his recantation.
+		He abjured none of his opinions, he
+		repudiated none of his acts; he would always
+		remain liberal (a blow on his chest),
+		but that which was good yesterday might
+		be dangerous to-day; truth on the other
+		side of the Alps, error on this side. The
+		forbearance of the Government was abused.
+		And he threatened the assembly; became
+		prophet; let loose the dogs of war. He
+		even risked a bit of poetry, flourished old
+		metaphors, which were worn out in the time
+		of Cicero, and compared by turn, in the
+		same phrase, his political career to a pilot, a
+		steed, and a torch. So much poetry could
+		only accentuate his success. There was a
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page44" name="page44"></a>44</span>salvo of bravos, and the Opposition grumbled,
+		foreseeing their defeat. Violent interruptions
+		broke forth: furious voices recalled
+		the orator&#8217;s past life, and threw as insults his
+		former professions in his face. He was unmoved,
+		and stood with a disdainful air, which
+		was very effective. <img class="figleft" src="images/fig057.jpg" alt="An orating man." />
+		Then the bravos redoubled,
+		and he
+		smiled vaguely, thinking,
+		no doubt, of the
+		proof-sheets of the
+		<i>Officiel</i>, where he
+		could by-and-by insert
+		in the margin,
+		without too much exaggeration,
+		&#8220;profound sensation&#8221; and &#8220;prolonged
+		applause.&#8221; Then, when quiet was
+		re-established, sure of his success, he affected
+		a serene majesty. He took up again his
+		discourse, soaring like a goose, launching
+		out with high doctrine, citing Royer-Collard.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page45" name="page45"></a>45</span>But I heard no more. The scandalous
+		spectacle of that political mountebank, who
+		sacrificed eternal principles to the interests
+		of the day, recalled to my memory the tent
+		of the acrobats. The cold rhetoric of that
+		harangue, vibrating with neither truth nor
+		emotion, recalled to me the patter, learned
+		by heart, of the powdered clown on the
+		stage. The superb air which the orator assumed
+		under the rain of reproaches and insults
+		singularly resembled the indifference
+		of the clown to the loud slaps on his face.
+		Those sonorous phrases, whose echoes had
+		just died away, sounded as false as a strolling
+		band. The word &#8220;liberty&#8221; rolled like
+		the bass-drum, &#8220;public interests&#8221; and &#8220;welfare
+		of the State&#8221; clanged discordantly like
+		the cymbals, and when the comedian spoke
+		of his &#8220;patriotism&#8221; I almost heard the <i>couac</i>
+		of a clarionet.</p>
+
+		<p>A long uproar woke me from my revery.
+		The speech was finished, and the
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page46" name="page46"></a>46</span>orator, having descended from the rostrum,
+		was receiving congratulations. They were
+		about to vote: the urns were being passed
+		around, but the result was certain, and
+		the crowd of tribunes was already dispersing.</p>
+
+		<p>As I went across the vestibule I saw an
+		elderly lady dressed in black. She was
+		dressed like a wealthy bourgeoise and appeared
+		radiant. I stopped one of the well-groomed
+		little chaps whom one sees trotting
+		around in the Ministerial corridors. I
+		knew him slightly, and I asked him who
+		that lady was.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;The mother of the orator,&#8221; he replied,
+		with official emotion. &#8220;She must be very
+		proud.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>Very proud! The old mother who wept
+		so bitterly in the market-place was not that;
+		and if the mother of his future Excellency
+		had reflected, she would have regretted&#8212;she
+		too&#8212;the time when her boy was very small,
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page47" name="page47"></a>47</span>and rolled naked on her knee, holding his
+		little foot in his hand.</p>
+
+		<p>But, bah! everything is relative, even
+		shame.</p>
+
+		<div class="figcenter last_picture">
+			<img src="images/fig060.jpg" alt="A still life, with a bottle and glass, and a pile of papers." />
+		</div>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum blank_page"><a id="page48" name="page48"></a>48</span></p>
+
+	</div>
+
+	<div id="tale_3" class="tale">
+
+		<h2 class="tale_title"><span class="pagenum"><a id="page49" name="page49"></a>49</span>A VOLUNTARY DEATH.</h2>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum blank_page"><a id="page50" name="page50"></a>50</span></p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page51" name="page51"></a>51</span></p>
+
+		<div class="figcenter first_picture">
+			<img src="images/fig064.jpg" alt="A still life: books, papers, pen and ink, and a solitary rose lying across the papers." title="A Voluntary Death" />
+		</div>
+
+		<p>I knew the poet Louis Miraz very well,
+		in the old times in the Latin Quarter, where
+		we used to take our meals together at a
+		crémerie on the Rue de Seine, kept by an
+		old Polish woman whom we nicknamed the
+		Princess Chocolawska, on account of the
+		enormous bowl of créme and chocolate
+		which she exposed daily in the show-window
+		of her shop. It was possible to dine there
+		for ten sous, with &#8220;two breads,&#8221; an &#8220;ordinaire
+		for thirty centimes,&#8221; and a &#8220;small
+		coffee.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page52" name="page52"></a>52</span>Some who were very nice spent a sou
+		more for a napkin.</p>
+
+		<p>Besides some young men who were destined
+		to become geniuses, the ordinary
+		guests of the crémerie were some poor compatriots
+		of the proprietress, who had all to
+		some extent commanded armies. There
+		was, above all, an imposing and melancholy
+		old fellow with a white beard, whose old
+		befrogged cloak, shabby boots, and old hat,
+		which looked as if snails had crawled over
+		it, presented a poem of misery, and whom
+		the other Poles treated with a marked respect,
+		for he had been a dictator for three
+		days.</p>
+
+		<p>It was, moreover, at the Princess Chocolawska&#8217;s
+		that I knew a singular fool, who
+		gained his bread by giving German lessons,
+		and declared himself a convert to Buddhism.
+		On the mantle of the miserable room, where
+		he lived with a milliner of Saint-Germain,
+		was enthroned an ugly little Buddha in jade,
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page53" name="page53"></a>53</span>fixing his hypnotized eyes on his navel, and
+		holding his great toes in his hands. The
+		German professor accorded to the idol the
+		most profound veneration, but on the epoch
+		of quarter-day he was sometimes forced to
+		carry him to the Mont-de-piété, upon which
+		he fell into a state of sombre chagrin, and
+		did not recover his serenity until he was
+		able to make amends for his impious act.
+		He never failed, moreover, to renew his
+		avowals in prosperous times, and finally to
+		take his god out of pawn.</p>
+
+		<p>As to Louis Miraz, he had the deep eyes,
+		the pale complexion, and the long and dishevelled
+		hair of all those young men who
+		come to town in third-class carriages to
+		conquer glory, who spend more for midnight
+		oil than for beefsteaks, and who, rich already
+		with some manuscripts, have thrown out to
+		great Paris from the height of some hill in
+		its environs the classic defiance of Rastignac.
+		At that time my hair was archaic
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page54" name="page54"></a>54</span>enough in length to grease the collar of my
+		coat. Thus we were made to understand
+		each other, and Louis Miraz soon took me
+		to his attic-room in the Rue des Quatre-Vents,
+		where he dragged two thousand alexandrines
+		over me.</p>
+
+		<div class="figcenter">
+			<img src="images/fig067.jpg" alt="Two men having a conversation at a table." />
+		</div>
+
+		<p>Seriously, they were fresh and charming
+		verses, with the inspiration of spring-tide,
+		having the perfume of the first lilacs, and
+		<i>Forest Birds</i> (the title of that collection of
+		poems which Louis Miraz published a little
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page55" name="page55"></a>55</span>while after he read them to me) will retain
+		a place among the volumes in the first rank
+		of belles-lettres, by the side of those poets of
+		a single book&#8212;of the Daudet of the Amoureuses,
+		for example.</p>
+
+		<p>For Miraz wrote no more verse. A young
+		eaglet seeking the upper air, he made his
+		eyrie on the summit of Montmartre, and for
+		quite a while we lost sight of him. Then I
+		found his name again in Sunday journals
+		and reviews, when he began to write those
+		short and exquisite sketches which have
+		made his reputation. Thus five years passed,
+		when I met him one day in the editor&#8217;s
+		office of a journal for which I worked.</p>
+
+
+		<p class="thought_break_asterism">&#x2042;</p>
+
+		<p>Each of us was as much pleased as the
+		other at thus meeting again; and after the
+		first &#8220;What, is that you? Is that you?&#8221; we
+		stood facing each other, shaking hands, and
+		exposing, in a laugh of cordial delight, our
+		teeth, which in old times we used to exercise
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page56" name="page56"></a>56</span>on the same crust of poverty. He had not
+		changed. He had not even sacrificed his
+		long hair, which he threw back with the
+		graceful movement of a horse who tosses
+		his mane. Only he had the clear complexion
+		and calm eye of a contented man, and
+		his slim figure was clad in most fashionable
+		costume.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;We won&#8217;t drift apart again, will we?&#8221;
+		said he, affectionately, taking me by the arm;
+		and he led me out in the boulevard, where
+		the April sun gilded the young leaves of the
+		plane-trees.</p>
+
+		<p>Ah, happy day! How we exhausted the
+		&#8220;Don&#8217;t you remembers?&#8221; &#8220;Do you remember
+		the fried eggs which tasted of straw, and
+		the dreadful rice-milk of the Princess Chocolawska?
+		and the melancholy air of the
+		old dictator? and the German who used to
+		pawn his god every three months?&#8221; At last
+		those days of hardship were finished. He
+		had from afar applauded my success, as I
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page57" name="page57"></a>57</span>had watched his. But one thing I did not
+		know, and that was that he had married a
+		woman whom he adored, and that he had a
+		charming little girl.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Come and see them; you shall dine
+		with me.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>I let myself be persuaded, and he carried
+		me down to the Enclos des Ternes, where
+		he lived in a cottage among the trees.
+		There everything made you welcome. No
+		sooner had we opened the door of the garden
+		than a young dog frisked about our
+		feet.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Down, Gavroche! He will soil your
+		clothes.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>But at the sound of the bell Madame
+		Miraz appeared at the steps with her little
+		daughter in her arms. An imposing and
+		beautiful blond, her well-moulded figure
+		wrapped in a blue gown.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Put on a plate more. I&#8217;ve an old comrade
+		with me.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page58" name="page58"></a>58</span>And the happy father, keeping his hat on
+		his head and carrying his little girl, showed
+		me all over his establishment&#8212;the dining-room,
+		brightened by light bits of faience,
+		the study, abounding in books, with its window
+		opening out on the green turf, so that a
+		puff of wind had strewn with rose-leaves the
+		printer&#8217;s proofs which were scattered on the
+		table.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;This is only a beginning, you know. It
+		wasn&#8217;t so long ago that we were working
+		for three sous a line.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>And while I luxuriated under a blossoming
+		Judas-tree which I saw in the garden,
+		Miraz, at ease in his home, had slipped into
+		his working-vest, put on his slippers, and,
+		lying on his sofa, caught little Helen in
+		his arms to toss her in the air&#8212;&#8220;Houp
+		la! Houp la!&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>I do not remember ever to have had a
+		more perfect impression of contentment.
+		We dined pleasantly&#8212;two good courses,
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page59" name="page59"></a>59</span>that was all; a dinner without pretence,
+		where we served ourselves with the pepper-mill.
+		The charming Madame Miraz presided
+		with her bright smile, having her child
+		by her side in a high-chair. She spoke but
+		little, but her sweet and intelligent attention
+		followed our light and paradoxical chat,
+		the good-humored fooling of men of letters;
+		and at the dessert she took a rose from the
+		bouquet which ornamented the table, and
+		placed it in her hair near her ear with a supreme
+		grace. She was indeed that lovely
+		and silent friend whom a dreamer requires.</p>
+
+		<p>We took our coffee in the study&#8212;they intended
+		to furnish the salon very soon with
+		the price of a story to be published by Levy&#8212;then,
+		as the evening was cool, a fire of
+		sticks and twigs was built, and while we
+		smoked, Miraz and I, recalling old memories,
+		the mistress of the house, holding on her
+		knees little Helen, now ready for bed, made
+		her repeat &#8220;Our Father&#8221; and &#8220;Hail Mary,&#8221;
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page60" name="page60"></a>60</span>which the little one lisped, rubbing her little
+		feet together before the warm flame.</p>
+
+		<p class="thought_break_asterism">&#x2042;</p>
+
+		<p>We saw each other again, often at first,
+		then less frequently, the difficult and complicated
+		life of literary labor taking us each
+		his own way. So the years passed. We
+		met, shook hands. &#8220;Everything going well?&#8221;
+		&#8220;Splendidly.&#8221; And that was all. Then,
+		later, I found the name of Louis Miraz but
+		rarely in the journals and periodicals. &#8220;Happy
+		man; he is resting,&#8221; I said to myself, remembering
+		that he was spoken of as having
+		made a small fortune. Finally, last autumn,
+		I learned that he was seriously ill.</p>
+
+		<p>I hurried to see him. He still lived at
+		the Enclos des Ternes; but on this sombre
+		day of the last of November the little house
+		seemed cold, and looked naked among the
+		leafless trees. It seemed to me shrunken
+		and diminished, like everything that we have
+		not seen for a long time.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page61" name="page61"></a>61</span>The dog was probably dead, for his bark
+		no longer answered the sound of the bell
+		when I passed the little gate and entered
+		the garden, all strewn with dead leaves where
+		the night&#8217;s frost had withered the last chrysanthemums.</p>
+
+		<p>It was not Madame Miraz&#8212;she was absent&#8212;it
+		was Helen who received me, Helen,
+		who had grown to be a great girl of fourteen,
+		with an awkward manner. She opened
+		for me the door of her father&#8217;s study,
+		and brusquely lifting her great black eyelashes,
+		turned on me a timid and distressed
+		glance.</p>
+
+		<p>I found Miraz huddled in an easy-chair
+		in the corner of the fireplace, wrapped in a
+		sort of bed-gown, with gray locks streaking
+		his long hair; and by the cold, clammy hand
+		which he reached towards me, by the pallid
+		face which he turned upon me, I knew that
+		he was lost. Horrible! I found in my unhappy
+		comrade that worn and ruined look
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page62" name="page62"></a>62</span>which used to strike us formerly among the
+		poor Poles of the crémerie.</p>
+
+		<div class="figcenter">
+			<img src="images/fig075.jpg" alt="A man in robe and slippers naps in a chair in a study." />
+		</div>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Ah, well, old man, things are not going
+		well?&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Deucedly bad, my boy,&#8221; he answered,
+		with a heart-breaking smile. &#8220;I am going
+		out stupidly with consumption, as they do
+		in the fifth act, you know, when the venerable
+		doctor, with a head like Béranger, feels
+		the first walking gentleman&#8217;s pulse, and lifts
+		his eyes towards heaven, saying, &#8216;The death-struggle
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page63" name="page63"></a>63</span>approaches!&#8217; Only the difference
+		is that with me it continues; it will not conclude,
+		the death-struggle. Smoke away;
+		that doesn&#8217;t disturb me,&#8221; he added, seeing
+		me put my cigar one side, his cough sounding
+		like a death-rattle.</p>
+
+		<p>I tried to find encouraging words. I talked
+		with him, holding him by the hand and
+		patting him affectionately on the shoulder;
+		but my voice had in my own ears the empty
+		hollowness of deceit, and Miraz, looking at
+		me, seemed to pity my efforts.</p>
+
+		<p>I was silent.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Look,&#8221; said he, pointing to his table;
+		&#8220;see my work-bench. For six months I
+		have not been able to write.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>It was true. Nothing could be more sad
+		than that heap of papers covered with dust,
+		and in an old Roman plate there was a bundle
+		of pens, crusted with ink, and like those
+		trophies of rusty foils which hang on the
+		walls of old fencers.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page64" name="page64"></a>64</span>I made a new attempt to revive him. Die!
+		at his age. Nonsense! He wasn&#8217;t taking
+		care of himself. He must pass the winter
+		in the South, drink a good draught of sunlight.
+		He could. He was easy in his money
+		matters.</p>
+
+		<p>But he stopped me, putting his hand on
+		my arm.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Listen,&#8221; he said, gravely, &#8220;we have seen
+		each other seldom, but you are my oldest,
+		perhaps my best, friend. You have proved
+		me pen in hand. Well, I am going to tell
+		you something in confidence, for you to keep
+		to yourself, unless it may serve on some occasion
+		to discourage the young literary aspirants
+		who bring their manuscripts to you&#8212;always
+		a praiseworthy action. Yes, I have
+		been successful. Yes, I have been paid a
+		franc a line. Yes, I have made money, and
+		there in that drawer are a certain number
+		of yellow, green, and red papers from
+		which a bit is clipped every six months,
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page65" name="page65"></a>65</span>and which represent three or four thousand
+		francs of income. It is rare in our profession,
+		and to gain that poor hoard I have
+		been obliged&#8212;I, a poet&#8212;to imitate the unsociable
+		virtues of a bourgeois, know how to
+		deny a jewel to my wife, a dress to my daughter.
+		At last I have that money. And I
+		often said to myself, if I should die their
+		bread is assured, and here is a little marriage
+		portion for Helen! And I was content&#8212;I
+		was proud!&#8212;for I know them, the
+		stories of our widows and our orphans, the
+		fourpenny help of the government, the tobacco
+		shops for six hundred francs in the
+		province, and, if the daughter is intelligent
+		and pretty like mine, the dramatic author,
+		an old friend of the father, who advises her
+		to enter the Conservatoire, and who makes
+		of her&#8212;mercy of God! that shall never be.
+		But for all that, my boy, it is necessary that
+		I should not linger. Sickness is expensive,
+		and already it has been necessary to sell
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page66" name="page66"></a>66</span>one or two bonds from that drawer. To
+		seek the sunlight, as you suggest, to bask
+		like a lizard at Cannes or at Menton, one
+		more bond must go, and there would not be
+		enough to last to the end, if I should wait
+		for seven or eight years more, now that I
+		can no longer write. Happily, there is nothing
+		to fear. But what I have suffered since
+		I have been incapable of writing, and have
+		felt my hoard of gold shrink and diminish
+		in my hand like the Magic Skin of Balzac, is
+		frightful. Now you understand me, do you
+		not? and you will no longer bid me take
+		care of myself. No; if you still pray to God,
+		ask him to send me speedily to the undertaker&#8217;s.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p class="thought_break_asterism">&#x2042;</p>
+
+		<p>Fifteen days later some thirty of us followed
+		the hearse which carried Louis Miraz
+		to the Cemetery Montmartre. It had snowed
+		the day before, and Doctor Arnould, the
+		old frequenter of painters&#8217; studios, the friend
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page67" name="page67"></a>67</span>and physician of the dead man, walking behind
+		me, called in his brusque voice,</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Very commonplace, but always terrible
+		the contrast: a burial in the snow&#8212;black
+		on white. The Funeral of the Poor, by the
+		late Vigneron, isn&#8217;t to be ridiculed. Brr!&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>At last we came to the edge of the grave.
+		The place and the time were sad. Under a
+		cloudy sky the little yew-trees, swayed by the
+		wind, threw down their burdens of melted
+		snow. The by-standers had formed a circle,
+		and were watching the grave-diggers, who
+		were lowering the coffin by cords. Near a
+		cross-bearer, whose short surplice permitted
+		the bottom of his trousers to be seen, the
+		priest waited with a finger in his book; and,
+		having grasped the rim of his hat under his
+		left arm, the orator of the Society of Men of
+		Letters already held in his black-gloved hand
+		the funeral oration, hastily patched up by the
+		aid of a comrade over a couple of glasses at
+		the corner of a café table.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page68" name="page68"></a>68</span>Suddenly, as the priest began his Latin
+		prayers, Doctor Arnould seized me by the
+		arm and whispered in my ear,</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;You know that he killed himself?&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>I looked at him with astonishment. But
+		he pointed to the group in black, composed
+		of Madame Miraz and her daughter, who
+		were sobbing under their long veils and
+		clasping each other in a tragic embrace, and
+		he added,</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;For them. Yes, for six months he threw
+		all his medicines in the fire, and designedly
+		committed all sorts of imprudences. He
+		confessed it to me before his death. I had
+		not understood it at all&#8212;I, who had expected
+		to prolong his life at least three years by
+		creosote. At last the other night, when it
+		was freezing cold, he left his window open,
+		as if by forgetfulness, and was taken with
+		bleeding at the lungs. Yes, that he might
+		leave bread for those two women. The
+		curé does not dream that he is blessing a
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page69" name="page69"></a>69</span>suicide. But what of it, my good fellow?
+		Miraz is in the paradise of the brave. The
+		details of such a death. Eh? It is tougher
+		than the passage of the Bridge of Arcole.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<div class="figcenter last_picture">
+			<img src="images/fig082.jpg" alt="A cemetary plot." />
+		</div>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum blank_page"><a id="page70" name="page70"></a>70</span></p>
+
+	</div>
+
+	<div id="tale_4" class="tale">
+
+		<h2 class="tale_title"><span class="pagenum"><a id="page71" name="page71"></a>71</span>A DRAMATIC FUNERAL.</h2>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum blank_page"><a id="page72" name="page72"></a>72</span></p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page73" name="page73"></a>73</span></p>
+
+		<div class="figcenter first_picture">
+			<img src="images/fig086.jpg" alt="A procession follows a carriage." title="A Dramatic Funeral" />
+		</div>
+
+		<p>For twenty-five years he had played the
+		role of the villain at the Boulevard du Crime,<span class="fnmarker">*</span><span class="footnote">* A nickname given to the Boulevard du Temple, on account of the numerous melodramatic theatres situated there.</span>
+		and his harsh voice, his nose like an eagle&#8217;s
+		beak, his eye with its savage glitter, had
+		made him a good player of such parts. For
+		twenty-five years, dressed in the cloak and
+		encircled by the fawn-colored leather belt
+		of Mordaunt, he had retreated with the step
+		of a wounded scorpion before the sword of
+		D&#8217;Artagnan; draped in the dirty Jewish
+		gown of Rodin, he had rubbed his dry
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page74" name="page74"></a>74</span>hands together, muttering the terrible &#8220;Patience,
+		patience!&#8221; and, curled on the chair
+		of the Duc d&#8217;Este, he had said to Lucretia
+		Borgia, with a sufficiently infernal glance, <img class="figleft" src="images/fig087.jpg" alt="A man in a flat-topped hat." />
+		&#8220;Take care and make no
+		mistake. The flagon of gold,
+		madame.&#8221; When, preceded
+		by a tremolo, he made his entry
+		in the scene, the third
+		gallery trembled, and a sigh
+		of relief greeted the moment
+		when the first walking gentleman at last
+		said to him: &#8220;Between us two, now,&#8221; and
+		immolated him for the grand triumph of
+		virtue.</p>
+
+		<p>But this sort of success, which is only betrayed
+		by murmurs of horror, is not of the
+		kind to make a dramatic career seductive;
+		and besides the old actor had always hidden
+		in a corner of his heart the bucolic ideal
+		which is in the heart of almost all artists.
+		He sighed for an old age of leisure, and the
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page75" name="page75"></a>75</span>comfortable dignity of a retired shopkeeper;
+		the house in the country, where he could live
+		with his family, with melons, under an arbor;
+		cakes and wine in the winter evenings; his
+		daughter a scholar in a convent; his son in
+		the uniform of the Polytechnique; and the
+		cross of the Legion.</p>
+
+		<p>Now, when we had occasion to know him,
+		he had already nearly realized his dreams.</p>
+
+		<p>After the failure of the theatre where he
+		had been for a long time engaged, some
+		capitalists had thought of him to put the
+		enterprise on its feet again. With his systematic
+		habits, his good sense, his thorough and
+		practical knowledge of the business, and a
+		sufficiently correct literary instinct, he became
+		an excellent manager. He was the
+		owner of stocks and a villa at Montmorency;
+		his son was a student at Sainte-Barbe, and
+		his daughter had just come out of Les Oiseaux;
+		and if the malice of small newspapers
+		had retarded his nomination in the
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page76" name="page76"></a>76</span>Legion of Honor by recalling every year,
+		about the first of January, his old ranting
+		on the stage, when he played formerly the
+		villains&#8217; parts, he could yet hope that it would
+		not be long before the red ribbon would
+		flourish in his button-hole. He had still
+		preserved some of the habits of a strolling
+		player, such as being very familiar with everybody,
+		and dyeing his mustaches; but as
+		he was, on the whole, good, honest, and serviceable,
+		he conquered the esteem and friendship
+		of those with whom he came in contact.</p>
+
+		<p>So it was with sincere grief that the whole
+		dramatic world learned one day the terrible
+		sorrow which had smitten that excellent
+		man. His daughter, a girl of seventeen,
+		had died suddenly of brain-fever.</p>
+
+		<p>We knew how he adored the child; how
+		he had brought her up in the strictest principles
+		of family and religion, far from the theatre,
+		something as Triboulet hid his daughter
+		Blanche in the little house of the cul-de-sac
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page77" name="page77"></a>77</span>Bucy. <img class="figright" src="images/fig090.jpg" alt="Three men in a group; one's back is to us." />We understood
+		that all the
+		hopes and ambitions
+		of the man rested on
+		the head of that
+		charming girl, who,
+		near all the corruption
+		of the theatre,
+		had grown up in innocence
+		and purity, as
+		one sees sometimes
+		in the scanty grass of
+		the faubourgs a field-flower
+		spring up by
+		the door of a hovel.</p>
+
+		<p>We were among the first at the funeral, to
+		which we had been summoned by a black-bordered
+		billet.</p>
+
+		<p>A crowd of the people of the neighborhood
+		encumbered the street before the house
+		of the dead, attracted by the pomps of the
+		first-class funeral ordered by the old comedian,
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page78" name="page78"></a>78</span>who had preserved the taste of the <i>mise
+		en scène</i> even in his grief. The magnificent
+		hearse and cumbrous mourning-coaches
+		were already drawn up to the sidewalk, and
+		under the door, and in the shade of the
+		heavy fringed and silvered draperies, amid
+		the twinkling of burning candles, between
+		two priests reading prayers in their Prayer-books,
+		the form of the massive coffin could
+		be seen under its white cloth, covered with
+		Parma violets.</p>
+
+		<p>As we walked among the crowd we noticed
+		the groups formed of those who, like us,
+		were waiting the departure of the cortége.
+		There were almost all the actors, men and
+		women, of Paris, who had come to pay
+		their last respects to the daughter of their
+		comrade. Undoubtedly nothing could be
+		more natural; but we experienced not the
+		less a strange sensation on seeing, around
+		the coffin of that pure young girl who had
+		breathed away her last breath in a prayer,
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page79" name="page79"></a>79</span>the gathering of all those faces marked by
+		the brand of the theatre.</p>
+
+		<p>They were all there: the stars, the comedians,
+		the lovers, the traitors; nobody was
+		lacking: soubrettes, duennas, coquettes, first
+		walking ladies. </p>
+
+		<div class="figcenter">
+			<img src="images/fig092.jpg" alt="Two men stand talking." />
+		</div>
+
+		<p class="continued">Wearing a sack-coat and a
+		felt hat on his long gray hair, the superb
+		adventurer of all the cloak and sword dramas
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page80" name="page80"></a>80</span>leaned against the shutter of a shop in his
+		familiar attitude, and crossed his arms to
+		show his handsome hands; while a little
+		old fellow with the wrinkled face of a clown
+		spoke to him briskly in the broad, harsh
+		voice which had so often made us explode
+		with laughter. By the side of the aged first
+		young man, who, pinched in his scanty
+		frock-coat, and with trousers trailing under
+		foot, twirled in his gloved hands his locks
+		of over-black hair, stood a great handsome
+		fellow, beautiful as a model, who had not
+		been able to renounce even for that day his
+		eccentricities of costume, and strutted in a
+		black velvet cape and the boots of an
+		equerry. Oh, how sad, tired, and old they
+		seemed in the gray light of that winter
+		morning, all those pathetic heads, graceful
+		or laughable, which we were only in the
+		habit of seeing when transfigured by the
+		prestige of the stage. Chins had become
+		blue-black under too frequent shaving; hair
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page81" name="page81"></a>81</span>thin and dry under the hot
+		iron of the hair-dresser; <img class="figright" src="images/fig094.jpg" alt="A full-length portrait of a man in a draped cloak." />
+		skins rough under the injurious
+		action of unguents and
+		vinegar; eyes dull, burned
+		by the glare of foot-lights&#8212;blinded,
+		almost fixed, like
+		those of an owl in the sunlight.</p>
+
+		<p>The women were especially
+		to be pitied. Obliged
+		by the occasion to rise at
+		a very early hour, and not
+		having had the time for a
+		careful and minute toilet, they gathered in
+		groups of four or five, chilled and shivering
+		in their fur mantles, muffs, and triple black
+		veils. Notwithstanding the hasty rouge and
+		powder of the morning, they were unrecognizable,
+		and it required an effort of imagination
+		to find in them a memory of that
+		sublime seraglio of the Parisian theatres,
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page82" name="page82"></a>82</span>exposed every evening to the desires of several
+		thousand men. On all of these charming
+		types appeared the mark of weariness
+		and age.</p>
+
+		<div class="figcenter">
+			<img src="images/fig095.jpg" alt="Three women stand in a group." />
+		</div>
+
+		<p class="continued">Some ossified into faded skeletons,
+		others grew dull with an unhealthy
+		weight of fat; wrinkles crossed the foreheads
+		and starred the temples; lips were
+		livid and eyes circled with dark rings; the
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page83" name="page83"></a>83</span>complexions were particularly frightful&#8212;that
+		uniform tint, morbid and sickly, the work of
+		rouge and grease-paints. That heavy woman,
+		with the head and neck of a farmer&#8217;s
+		wife (one almost sees a basket on her shoulder),
+		is the terrible and fatal queen of grand,
+		romantic dramas; and that small blonde and
+		pale creature, so faded under her laces, and
+		who would have completely filled a music-teacher&#8217;s
+		carrying roll, was the artless young
+		woman whom all the vaudevillists married
+		at the dénouement of their pieces. There
+		were the dying glances of the lorette in the
+		hospital, the pose of the old copyist of the
+		Louvre, and the theatrical sneer.</p>
+
+		<p>Soon the cabs drove up with the functionaries
+		connected with the administration of
+		the theatre, in black hats and coats, with an
+		official air of sadness; young reporters, the
+		outflow of journalism, staring at everybody
+		and taking notes; dramatic authors, Monday
+		feuilletonists&#8212;in short, all of those
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page84" name="page84"></a>84</span>nocturnal beings, tired and worn-out, who are
+		properly called the actives of Paris.</p>
+
+		<p>The groups became more compact, and
+		talked animatedly. Old friends found each
+		other; they shook hands, and, in view of the
+		circumstances, smiled cordially, while the
+		women saluted each other through their
+		veils.</p>
+
+		<p>In passing, we could catch fragments of
+		conversation like this:</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;When will the affair begin?&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Were you at the opening of the Variétès
+		yesterday?&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>Theatrical terms were heard&#8212;&#8220;My talents,&#8221;
+		&#8220;My charms,&#8221; &#8220;My physique.&#8221; Some
+		business, even, was done. A new manager
+		was quite surrounded; an old actress organized
+		her benefit.</p>
+
+		<p>Suddenly there was a movement in the
+		crowd. The undertaker&#8217;s men had just
+		placed the coffin in the hearse, and the
+		young girls of the Sisterhood of the Virgin,
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page85" name="page85"></a>85</span>to which the dead girl had belonged, arranged
+		themselves in two lines, in their
+		white veils, at the sides of the funeral-car.
+		Preceded by the master of ceremonies, in
+		silk stockings and a wand of office in his
+		hand, the poor father appeared on the pavement
+		in full mourning, with a white cravat,
+		broken down by grief and sustained by his
+		friends.</p>
+
+		<p>The procession set out and came to the
+		parish church, fortunately near.</p>
+
+		<p>There was a grand mass, with music which
+		was not finished. It was too warm in the
+		church stuffed with people, and the inattention
+		was general. Men who recognized each
+		other saluted with a light movement of the
+		head; conversation was exchanged in a low
+		voice; some young actors struck attitudes
+		for the benefit of the women, and the pious
+		responded to Dominus Vobiscum droned by
+		the priest. At the elevation, from behind the
+		altar, rang out a magnificent Pié Jesu, sung
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page86" name="page86"></a>86</span>by a celebrated baritone, who had never
+		put in his voice so much amorous languor.
+		Outside the church-yard the small boys of
+		the quarter stood on tiptoe, and, hanging on
+		to the railings, pointed out the celebrities
+		with their fingers.</p>
+
+		<p>The office finished, the long defile commenced;
+		and every one went to the entrance
+		of the church to sprinkle some drops of holy-water
+		on the bier, and press the hand of the
+		old actor, who, broken by grief, and having
+		hardly strength to hold his hat, leaned against
+		a pillar.</p>
+
+		<p>That was the most horrible moment.</p>
+
+		<p>Carried away by the habit of playing up
+		to the situation, all these theatrical people
+		put into the token of sympathy which they
+		gave to their friend the character of their
+		employment. The star advanced gravely, and
+		with a three-quarter inclination of his head
+		flashed out the &#8220;Look of Fate.&#8221; The old
+		tragedian with a gray beard assumed a stoical
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page87" name="page87"></a>87</span>expression, and did not forget to &#8220;vibrate&#8221;
+		in pronouncing a masculine &#8220;Courage!&#8221;
+		The clown approached with a short,
+		trotting step, and shaking his head until his
+		cheeks trembled, he murmured, &#8220;My poor
+		old fellow.&#8221; And the fairy queen, with the
+		sensibility of a sensitive female, threw herself
+		impulsively on the neck of the unhappy father,
+		who, with swollen face, bloodshot eyes,
+		and hanging lip, blackened his face and his
+		gloved hands with the dye of his mustache,
+		diluted by tears.</p>
+
+		<p>And all the time, a few steps from this
+		grotesque and sinister scene, we could see&#8212;last
+		word of this antithesis&#8212;the white figures
+		of the young girls of the sisterhood,
+		kneeling on the chairs nearest the coffin of
+		their companion, and who undoubtedly were
+		beseeching God, in their naïve and original
+		prayers, to grant her the paradise of their
+		dreams: a pretty paradise in the Jesuitical
+		style, all in carved and gilded wood, and
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page88" name="page88"></a>88</span>many-colored marble, where one could see
+		at the end a tableau in a transparent light;
+		the Virgin crowned with stars, with a serpent
+		under her feet, while little cherubs suspended
+		in mid-air over her head an azure streamer
+		flaming with these words: &#8220;<i>Ecce Regina
+		Angelorum</i>.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<div class="figcenter last_picture">
+			<img src="images/fig101.jpg" alt="A clown sits dejected on a flower-covered grave marker, his back to us." />
+		</div>
+
+	</div>
+
+	<div id="tale_5" class="tale">
+
+		<h2 class="tale_title"><span class="pagenum"><a id="page89" name="page89"></a>89</span>THE SUBSTITUTE.</h2>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum blank_page"><a id="page90" name="page90"></a>90</span></p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page91" name="page91"></a>91</span></p>
+
+		<div class="figcenter first_picture">
+			<img src="images/fig104.jpg" alt="A sombre-looking boy stands with his hands in his pockets." title="The Substitute" />
+		</div>
+
+		<p>He was scarcely ten years old when he
+		was first arrested as a vagabond.</p>
+
+		<p>He spoke thus to the judge:</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;I am called Jean François Leturc, and
+		for six months I was with the man who
+		sings and plays upon a cord of catgut between
+		the lanterns at the Place de la Bastille.
+		I sang the refrain with him, and after
+		that I called, &#8216;Here&#8217;s all the new songs, ten
+		centimes, two sous!&#8217; He was always drunk,
+		and used to beat me. That is why the police
+		picked me up the other night. Before
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page92" name="page92"></a>92</span>that I was with the man who sells brushes.
+		My mother was a laundress; her name was
+		Adéle. At one time she lived with a man on
+		the ground-floor at Montmartre. She was a
+		good work-woman and liked me. She made
+		money because she had for customers waiters
+		in the cafés, and they use a good deal of
+		linen. On Sundays she used to put me to
+		bed early so that she could go to the ball.
+		On week-days she sent me to Les Fréres,
+		where I learned to read. Well, the sergeant-de-ville
+		whose beat was in our street used
+		always to stop before our windows to talk
+		with her&#8212;a good-looking chap, with a medal
+		from the Crimea. They were married,
+		and after that everything went wrong. He
+		didn&#8217;t take to me, and turned mother against
+		me. Every one had a blow for me, and so,
+		to get out of the house, I spent whole
+		days in the Place Clichy, where I knew the
+		mountebanks. My father-in-law lost his
+		place, and my mother her work. She used
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page93" name="page93"></a>93</span>to go out washing to take care of him; this
+		gave her a cough&#8212;the steam&#8230;. She is
+		dead at Lamboisière. She was a good woman.
+		Since that I have lived with the seller
+		of brushes and the catgut scraper. Are you
+		going to send me to prison?&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>He said this openly, cynically, like a man.
+		He was a little ragged street-arab, as tall as
+		a boot, his forehead hidden under a queer
+		mop of yellow hair.</p>
+
+		<p>Nobody claimed him, and they sent him
+		to the Reform School.</p>
+
+		<p>Not very intelligent, idle, clumsy with his
+		hands, the only trade he could learn there
+		was not a good one&#8212;that of reseating straw
+		chairs. However, he was obedient, naturally
+		quiet and silent, and he did not seem to be
+		profoundly corrupted by that school of vice.
+		But when, in his seventeenth year, he was
+		thrown out again on the streets of Paris, he
+		unhappily found there his prison comrades,
+		all great scamps, exercising their dirty professions:
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page94" name="page94"></a>94</span>teaching dogs to catch rats in the
+		the sewers, and blacking shoes on ball nights
+		in the passage of the Opera&#8212;amateur wrestlers,
+		who permitted themselves to be thrown
+		by the Hercules of the booths&#8212;or fishing at
+		noontime from rafts; all of these occupations
+		he followed to some extent, and, some
+		months after he came out of the house of
+		correction, he was arrested again for a petty
+		theft&#8212;a pair of old shoes prigged from a
+		shop-window. Result: a year in the prison
+		of Sainte Pélagie, where he served as valet
+		to the political prisoners.</p>
+
+		<p>He lived in much surprise among this
+		group of prisoners, all very young, negligent
+		in dress, who talked in loud voices, and carried
+		their heads in a very solemn fashion.
+		They used to meet in the cell of one of the
+		oldest of them, a fellow of some thirty years,
+		already a long time in prison and quite a
+		fixture at Sainte Pélagie&#8212;a large cell, the
+		walls covered with colored caricatures, and
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page95" name="page95"></a>95</span>from the window of which one could see all
+		Paris&#8212;its roofs, its spires, and its domes&#8212;and
+		far away the distant line of hills, blue and
+		indistinct upon the sky. There were upon the
+		walls some shelves filled with volumes and
+		all the old paraphernalia of a fencing-room:
+		broken masks, rusty foils, breast-plates, and
+		gloves that were losing their tow. It was
+		there that the &#8220;politicians&#8221; used to dine together,
+		adding to the everlasting &#8220;soup and
+		beef,&#8221; fruit, cheese, and pints of wine which
+		Jean François went out and got by the can&#8212;a
+		tumultuous repast interrupted by violent
+		disputes, and where, during the dessert, the
+		&#8220;Carmagnole&#8221; and &#8220;Ca Ira&#8221; were sung in
+		full chorus. They assumed, however, an air
+		of great dignity on those days when a newcomer
+		was brought in among them, at first
+		entertaining him gravely as a citizen, but on
+		the morrow using him with affectionate familiarity,
+		and calling him by his nickname.
+		Great words were used there: Corporation,
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page96" name="page96"></a>96</span>Responsibility, and phrases quite unintelligible
+		to Jean François&#8212;such as this, for example,
+		which he once heard imperiously put
+		forth by a frightful little hunchback who
+		blotted some writing-paper every night:</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;It is done. This is the composition of
+		the Cabinet: Raymond, the Bureau of Public
+		Instruction; Martial, the Interior; and
+		for Foreign Affairs, myself.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>His time done, he wandered again around
+		Paris, watched afar by the police, after the
+		fashion of cockchafers, made by cruel children
+		to fly at the end of a string. He became
+		one of those fugitive and timid beings
+		whom the law, with a sort of coquetry, arrests
+		and releases by turn&#8212;something like
+		those platonic fishers who, in order that they
+		may not exhaust their fish-pond, throw immediately
+		back in the water the fish which
+		has just come out of the net. Without a
+		suspicion on his part that so much honor
+		had been done to so sorry a subject, he had
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page97" name="page97"></a>97</span>a special bundle of memoranda in the mysterious
+		portfolios of the Rue de Jérusalem.
+		His name was written in round hand on the
+		gray paper of the cover, and the notes and
+		reports, carefully classified, gave him his
+		successive appellations: &#8220;Name, Leturc;&#8221;
+		&#8220;the prisoner Leturc,&#8221; and, at last, &#8220;the criminal
+		Leturc.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>He was two years out of prison, dining
+		where he could, sleeping in night lodging-houses
+		and sometimes in lime-kilns, and taking
+		part with his fellows in interminable
+		games of pitch-penny on the boulevards
+		near the barriers: He wore a greasy cap
+		on the back of his head, carpet slippers, and
+		a short white blouse. When he had five
+		sous he had his hair curled. He danced
+		at Constant&#8217;s at Montparnasse; bought for
+		two sous to sell for four at the door of
+		Bobino, the jack of hearts or the ace of
+		clubs serving as a countermark; sometimes
+		opened the door of a carriage; led horses
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page98" name="page98"></a>98</span>to the horse-market. From the lottery of
+		all sorts of miserable employments he drew
+		a goodly number. Who can say if the atmosphere
+		of honor which one breathes as a
+		soldier, if military discipline might not have
+		saved him. Taken, in a cast of the net, with
+		some young loafers who robbed drunkards
+		sleeping on the streets, he denied very earnestly
+		having taken part in their expeditions.
+		Perhaps he told the truth, but his antecedents
+		were accepted in lieu of proof, and he
+		was sent for three years to Poissy. There
+		he made coarse playthings for children, was
+		tattooed on the chest, learned thieves&#8217; slang
+		and the penal-code. A new liberation, and
+		a new plunge into the sink of Paris; but
+		very short this time, for at the end of six
+		months at the most he was again compromised
+		in a night robbery, aggravated by
+		climbing and breaking&#8212;a serious affair, in
+		which he played an obscure role, half dupe
+		and half fence. On the whole his complicity
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page99" name="page99"></a>99</span>was evident, and he was sent for five years
+		at hard labor. His grief in this adventure
+		was above all in being separated from an
+		old dog which he had found on a dung-heap,
+		and cured of the mange. The beast loved
+		him.</p>
+
+		<p>Toulon, the ball and chain, the work in
+		the harbor, the blows from a stick, wooden
+		shoes on bare feet, soup of black beans dating
+		from Trafalgar, no tobacco money, and
+		the terrible sleep in a camp swarming with
+		convicts; that was what he experienced for
+		five broiling summers and five winters raw
+		with the Mediterranean wind. He came
+		out from there stunned, was sent under surveillance
+		to Vernon, where he worked some
+		time on the river. Then, an incorrigible
+		vagabond, he broke his exile and came again
+		to Paris. He had his savings, fifty-six francs,
+		that is to say, time enough for reflection.
+		During his absence his former wretched
+		companions had dispersed. He was well
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page100" name="page100"></a>100</span>hidden, and slept in a loft at an old woman&#8217;s,
+		to whom he represented himself as a
+		sailor, tired of the sea, who had lost his papers
+		in a recent shipwreck, and who wanted
+		to try his hand at something
+		else. <img class="figleft" src="images/fig113.jpg" alt="A man stands on some steps, and peers in a window." /> His tanned
+		face and his calloused
+		hands, together with some
+		sea phrases which he dropped
+		from time to time,
+		made his tale seem probable
+		enough.</p>
+
+		<p>One day when he risked
+		a saunter in the streets,
+		and when chance had led
+		him as far as Montmartre,
+		where he was born, an unexpected
+		memory stopped him before the
+		door of Les Frères, where he had learned to
+		read. As it was very warm the door was
+		open, and by a single glance the passing outcast
+		was able to recognize the peaceable
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page101" name="page101"></a>101</span>school-room. Nothing was changed: neither
+		the bright light shining in at the great
+		windows, nor the crucifix over the desk, nor
+		the rows of benches with the tables furnished
+		with ink-stands and pencils, nor the
+		table of weights and measures, nor the map
+		where pins stuck in still indicated the operations
+		of some ancient war. Heedlessly and
+		without thinking, Jean François read on the
+		blackboard the words of the Evangelist
+		which had been set there as a copy:</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Joy shall be in heaven over one sinner
+		that repenteth, more than over ninety and
+		nine just persons, which need no repentance.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>It was undoubtedly the hour for recreation,
+		for the Brother Professor had left his
+		chair, and, sitting on the edge of a table, he
+		was telling a story to the boys who surrounded
+		him with eager and attentive eyes.
+		What a bright and innocent face he had, that
+		beardless young man, in his long black
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page102" name="page102"></a>102</span>gown, and white necktie, and great ugly
+		shoes, and his badly cut brown hair streaming
+		out behind! All the simple figures of
+		the children of the people who were watching
+		him seemed scarcely less childlike than
+		his; above all when, delighted with some of
+		his own simple and priestly pleasantries, he
+		broke out in an open and frank peal of
+		laughter which showed his white and regular
+		teeth, a peal so contagious that all the
+		scholars laughed loudly in their turn. It
+		was such a sweet, simple group in the bright
+		sunlight, which lighted their dear eyes and
+		their blond curls.</p>
+
+		<p>Jean François looked at them for some
+		time in silence, and for the first time in that
+		savage nature, all instinct and appetite, there
+		awoke a mysterious, a tender emotion. His
+		heart, that seared and hardened heart, unmoved
+		when the convict&#8217;s cudgel or the
+		heavy whip of the watchman fell on his
+		shoulders, beat oppressively. In that sight
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page103" name="page103"></a>103</span>he saw again his infancy; and closing his
+		eyes sadly, the prey to torturing regret, he
+		walked quickly away.</p>
+
+		<p>Then the words written on the blackboard
+		came back to his mind.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;If it wasn&#8217;t too late, after all!&#8221; he murmured;
+		&#8220;if I could again, like others, eat
+		honestly my brown bread, and sleep my fill
+		without nightmare! The spy must be sharp
+		who recognizes me. My beard, which I
+		shaved off down there, has grown out thick
+		and strong. One can burrow somewhere in
+		the great ant-hill, and work can be found.
+		Whoever is not worked to death in the hell
+		of the galleys comes out agile and robust,
+		and I learned there to climb ropes with loads
+		upon my back. Building is going on everywhere
+		here, and the masons need helpers.
+		Three francs a day! I never earned so
+		much. Let me be forgotten, and that is all
+		I ask.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>He followed his courageous resolution; he
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page104" name="page104"></a>104</span>was faithful to it, and after three months he
+		was another man. The master for whom he
+		worked called him his best workman. After
+		a long day upon the scaffolding, in the hot
+		sun and the dust, constantly bending and
+		raising his back to take the hod from the
+		man at his feet and pass it to the man over
+		his head, he went for his soup to the cook-shop,
+		tired out, his legs aching, his hands
+		burning, his eyelids stuck with plaster, but
+		content with himself, and carrying his well-earned
+		money in a knot in his handkerchief.
+		He went out now without fear, since he
+		could not be recognized in his white mask,
+		and since he had noticed that the suspicious
+		glances of the policeman were seldom turned
+		on the tired workman. He was quiet and
+		sober. He slept the sound sleep of fatigue.
+		He was free!</p>
+
+		<p>At last&#8212;oh, supreme recompense!&#8212;he
+		had a friend!</p>
+
+		<p>He was a fellow-workman like himself,
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page105" name="page105"></a>105</span>named Savinien, a little peasant with red
+		lips who had come to Paris with his stick
+		over his shoulder and a bundle on the end
+		of it, fleeing from the wine-shops and going
+		to mass every Sunday. Jean François loved
+		him for his piety, for his candor, for his honesty,
+		for all that he himself had lost, and so
+		long ago. It was a passion, profound and
+		unrestrained, which transformed him by fatherly
+		cares and attentions. Savinien, himself
+		of a weak and egotistical nature, let
+		things take their course, satisfied only in
+		finding a companion who shared his horror
+		of the wine-shop. The two friends lived together
+		in a fairly comfortable lodging, but
+		their resources were very limited. They were
+		obliged to take into their room a third companion,
+		an old Auvergnat, gloomy and rapacious,
+		who found it possible out of his
+		meagre salary to save something with which
+		to buy a place in his own country. Jean
+		François and Savinien were always together.
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page106" name="page106"></a>106</span>On holidays they together took long walks
+		in the environs of Paris, and dined under
+		an arbor in one of those small country
+		inns where there are a great many mushrooms
+		in the sauces and innocent rebusses
+		on the napkins. There Jean François learned
+		from his friend all that lore of which they
+		who are born in the city are ignorant:
+		learned the names of the trees, the flowers,
+		and the plants; the various seasons for harvesting;
+		he heard eagerly the thousand details
+		of a laborious country life&#8212;the autumn
+		sowing, the winter chores, the splendid celebrations
+		of harvest and vintage days, the
+		sound of the mills at the water-side, and the
+		flails striking the ground, the tired horses
+		led to water, and the hunting in the morning
+		mist; and, above all, the long evenings
+		around the fire of vine-shoots, that were
+		shortened by some marvellous stories. He
+		discovered in himself a source of imagination
+		before unknown, and found a singular
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page107" name="page107"></a>107</span>delight in the recital of events so placid, so
+		calm, so monotonous.</p>
+
+		<p>One thing troubled him, however: it was
+		the fear lest Savinien might learn something
+		of his past. Sometimes there escaped from
+		him some low word of thieves&#8217; slang, a vulgar
+		gesture&#8212;vestiges of his former horrible
+		existence&#8212;and he felt the pain one feels
+		when old wounds re-open; the more because
+		he fancied that he sometimes saw in Savinien
+		the awakening of an unhealthy curiosity.
+		When the young man, already tempted by
+		the pleasures which Paris offers to the poorest,
+		asked him about the mysteries of the
+		great city, Jean François feigned ignorance
+		and turned the subject; but he felt a vague
+		inquietude for the future of his friend.</p>
+
+		<p>His uneasiness was not without foundation.
+		Savinien could not long remain the
+		simple rustic that he was on his arrival in
+		Paris. If the gross and noisy pleasures of
+		the wine-shop always repelled him, he was
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page108" name="page108"></a>108</span>profoundly troubled by other temptations, full
+		of danger for the inexperience of his twenty
+		years. When spring came he began to go
+		off alone, and at first he wandered about
+		the brilliant entrance of some dancing-hall,
+		watching the young girls who went in with
+		their arms around each others&#8217; waists, talking
+		in low tones. Then, one evening, when
+		lilacs perfumed the air and the call to quadrilles
+		was most captivating, he crossed the
+		threshold, and from that time Jean François
+		observed a change, little by little, in his
+		manners and his visage. He became more
+		frivolous, more extravagant. He often borrowed
+		from his friend his scanty savings,
+		and he forgot to repay. Jean François, feeling
+		that he was abandoned, jealous and forgiving
+		at the same time, suffered and was
+		silent. He felt that he had no right to reproach
+		him, but with the foresight of affection
+		he indulged in cruel and inevitable
+		presentiments.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page109" name="page109"></a>109</span>One evening, as he was mounting the
+		stairs to his room, absorbed in his thoughts,
+		he heard, as he was about to enter, the sound
+		of angry voices, and he recognized that of
+		the old Auvergnat who lodged with Savinien
+		and himself. An old habit of suspicion made
+		him stop at the landing-place and listen to
+		learn the cause of the trouble.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; said the Auvergnat, angrily, &#8220;I am
+		sure that some one has opened my trunk
+		and stolen from it the three louis that I
+		had hidden in a little box; and he who has
+		done this thing must be one of the two
+		companions who sleep here, if it were not
+		the servant Maria. It concerns you as much
+		as it does me, since you are the master of
+		the house, and I will drag you to the courts
+		if you do not let me at once break open the
+		valises of the two masons. My poor gold!
+		It was here yesterday in its place, and I will
+		tell you just what it was, so that if we find
+		it again nobody can accuse me of having
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page110" name="page110"></a>110</span>lied. Ah, I know them, my three beautiful
+		gold pieces, and I can see them as plainly
+		as I see you! One piece was more worn
+		than the others; it was of greenish gold,
+		with a portrait of the great emperor. The
+		other was a great old fellow with a queue
+		and epaulettes; and the third, which had
+		on it a Philippe with whiskers, I had marked
+		with my teeth. They don&#8217;t trick me. Do
+		you know that I only wanted two more like
+		that to pay for my vineyard? Come, search
+		these fellows&#8217; things with me, or I will call
+		the police! Hurry up!&#8221;
+		&#8220;All right,&#8221; said the voice of the landlord;
+		&#8220;we will go and search with Maria. So
+		much the worse for you if we
+		find nothing, and the masons
+		get angry. You have forced
+		me to it.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p><img class="figleft" src="images/fig123.jpg" alt="A man leans near a door." />Jean François&#8217; soul
+		was full of fright. He
+		remembered the embarrassed
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page111" name="page111"></a>111</span>circumstances and the small loans
+		of Savinien, and how sober he had seemed
+		for some days. And yet he could not believe
+		that he was a thief. He heard the
+		Auvergnat panting in his eager search, and
+		he pressed his closed fists against his breast
+		as if to still the furious beating of his
+		heart.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Here they are!&#8221; suddenly shouted the
+		victorious miser. &#8220;Here they are, my louis,
+		my dear treasure; and in the Sunday vest
+		of that little hypocrite of Limousin! Look,
+		landlord, they are just as I told you. Here
+		is the Napoleon, the man with a queue, and
+		the Philippe that I have bitten. See the
+		dents? Ah, the little beggar with the sanctified
+		air. I should have much sooner suspected
+		the other. Ah, the wretch! Well, he
+		must go to the convict prison.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>At this moment Jean François heard the
+		well-known step of Savinien coming slowly
+		up the stairs.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page112" name="page112"></a>112</span>He is going to his destruction, thought he.
+		Three stories. I have time!</p>
+
+		<p>And, pushing open the door, he entered
+		the room, pale as death, where he saw the
+		landlord and the servant stupefied in a corner,
+		while the Auvergnat, on his knees, in the
+		disordered heap of clothes, was kissing the
+		pieces of gold.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Enough of this,&#8221; he said, in a thick voice;
+		&#8220;I took the money, and put it in my comrade&#8217;s
+		trunk. But that is too bad. I am a
+		thief, but not a Judas. Call the police; I
+		will not try to escape, only I must say a
+		word to Savinien in private. Here he is.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>In fact, the little Limousin had just arrived,
+		and seeing his crime discovered, believing
+		himself lost, he stood there, his eyes
+		fixed, his arms hanging.</p>
+
+		<p>Jean François seized him forcibly by the
+		neck, as if to embrace him; he put his mouth
+		close to Savinien&#8217;s ear, and said to him in a
+		low, supplicating voice,</p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page113" name="page113"></a>113</span>&#8220;Keep quiet.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>Then turning towards the others:</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Leave me alone with him. I tell you I
+		won&#8217;t go away. Lock us in if you wish, but
+		leave us alone.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>With a commanding gesture he showed
+		them the door.</p>
+
+		<div class="figcenter">
+			<img src="images/fig126.jpg" alt="A seated man leans over his knees, while another man confronts him." />
+		</div>
+
+		<p class="continued">They went out.</p>
+
+		<p>Savinien, broken by grief, was sitting on
+		the bed, and lowered his eyes without understanding
+		anything.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page114" name="page114"></a>114</span>&#8220;Listen,&#8221; said Jean François, who came
+		and took him by the hands. &#8220;I understand!
+		You have stolen three gold pieces to buy
+		some trifle for a girl. That costs six months
+		in prison. But one only comes out from
+		there to go back again, and you will become
+		a pillar of police courts and tribunals. I
+		understand it. I have been seven years at
+		the Reform School, a year at Sainte Pélagie,
+		three years at Poissy, five years at Toulon.
+		Now, don&#8217;t be afraid. Everything is arranged.
+		I have taken it on my shoulders.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;It is dreadful,&#8221; said Savinien; but hope
+		was springing up again in his cowardly heart.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;When the elder brother is under the
+		flag, the younger one does not go,&#8221; replied
+		Jean François. &#8220;I am your substitute, that&#8217;s
+		all. You care for me a little, do you not?
+		I am paid. Don&#8217;t be childish&#8212;don&#8217;t refuse.
+		They would have taken me again one of
+		these days, for I am a runaway from exile.
+		And then, do you see, that life will be less
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page115" name="page115"></a>115</span>hard for me than for you. I know it all,
+		and I shall not complain if I have not done
+		you this service for nothing, and if you swear
+		to me that you will never do it again. Savinien,
+		I have loved you well, and your friendship
+		has made me happy. It is through it
+		that, since I have known you, I have been
+		honest and pure, as I might always have
+		been, perhaps, if I had had, like you, a father
+		to put a tool in my hands, a mother to teach
+		me my prayers. It was my sole regret that
+		I was useless to you, and that I deceived
+		you concerning myself. To-day I have unmasked
+		in saving you. It is all right. Do
+		not cry, and embrace me, for already I hear
+		heavy boots on the stairs. They are coming
+		with the <i>posse</i>, and we must not seem
+		to know each other so well before those
+		chaps.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>He pressed Savinien quickly to his breast,
+		then pushed him from him, when the door
+		was thrown wide open.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page116" name="page116"></a>116</span>It was the landlord and the Auvergnat,
+		who brought the police. Jean François
+		sprang forward to the landing-place, held
+		out his hands for the handcuffs, and said,
+		laughing, &#8220;Forward, bad lot!&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>To-day he is at Cayenne, condemned for
+		life as an incorrigible.</p>
+
+		<div class="figcenter last_picture">
+			<img src="images/fig129.jpg" alt="A still life with a water jug and two tablets." />
+		</div>
+
+	</div>
+
+	<div id="tale_6" class="tale">
+
+		<h2 class="tale_title"><span class="pagenum"><a id="page117" name="page117"></a>117</span>AT TABLE.</h2>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum blank_page"><a id="page118" name="page118"></a>118</span></p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page119" name="page119"></a>119</span></p>
+
+		<div class="figcenter first_picture">
+			<img src="images/fig132.jpg" alt="A still life with champagne and a fan." />
+		</div>
+
+		<p>When the <i>maître d&#8217;hôtel</i>&#8212;oh, what a respectable
+		paunch in an ample kerseymere
+		vest! What a worthy and red face, well
+		framed by white whiskers! (an English physique,
+		I assure you)&#8212;when the imposing
+		<i>maître d&#8217;hôtel</i> opened with two raps the door
+		of the salon, and announced in his musical
+		bass voice, at the same time sonorous and
+		respectful, &#8220;The dinner of madame la comtesse
+		is served,&#8221; hats were hung on the
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page120" name="page120"></a>120</span>corners of brackets, while the more distinguished
+		of the guests offered their arms to
+		the ladies, and all passed into the dining-room,
+		silent, almost meditative, like a procession.</p>
+
+		<p>The table glittered. What flowers! What
+		lights! Each guest found his place without
+		difficulty. As soon as he had read his name
+		on the glazed card, a grand lackey in silk
+		stockings pushed gently behind him a luxurious
+		chair embroidered with a count&#8217;s coronet.
+		Fourteen at the table, not more: four
+		young women in full toilets, and ten men
+		belonging to the aristocracy of blood or of
+		merit, who had put on that evening all their
+		orders in honor of a foreign diplomat sitting
+		at the right hand of the mistress of the
+		house. Clusters of jewelled decorations
+		hung from button-holes, plaques of diamonds
+		glittered in the lapel of one or two black
+		coats, a heavy commander&#8217;s cross sparkled
+		on the starched front of a general with a
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page121" name="page121"></a>121</span>red cravat. As to the ladies, they bore all
+		the splendors of their jewel-boxes.</p>
+
+		<div class="figcenter">
+			<img src="images/fig134.jpg" alt="A bewhiskered man stands in front of a folding screen." />
+		</div>
+
+		<p>An elegant and exquisite reunion! What
+		an atmosphere of good-living in the high
+		hall&#8212;splendidly decorated and ornamented
+		on its four panels with studies for a dining-hall
+		in the fine style of olden days&#8212;where
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page122" name="page122"></a>122</span>were fruits, venison, and eatables of all sorts.
+		The service of the table was noiseless; the
+		domestics seemed to glide upon the thick
+		carpet. The butler whispered the wines in
+		the ears of the guests with a confidential
+		tone, and as if he were revealing a secret
+		upon which life depended.</p>
+
+		<p>At the soup&#8212;a <i>consommé</i> at the same
+		time mild and stimulating, giving force and
+		youthful vigor to the digestion&#8212;chat between
+		neighbors began. Undoubtedly these
+		were the merest trifles that were at first so
+		low spoken. But what politeness in the
+		grave gestures! What affability in looks
+		and smiles! Soon after the Chateâu-yquem,
+		wit sparkled. These men, for the most part
+		old or very mature, all remarkable through
+		birth or through talent, had lived much; full
+		of experience and memories, they were made
+		for conversation, and the beauty of the women
+		present inspired them with a desire to
+		shine, and excited them to a courteous rivalry.
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page123" name="page123"></a>123</span>There was a snapping of bright words,
+		a flight of sudden sallies, and the conversationalists
+		broke into groups of two or three.
+		A famous voyager with bronzed skin, recently
+		returned from the farthest deserts, told his
+		two neighbors of an elephant hunt, without
+		any boasting, with as much tranquillity as
+		though he were speaking of shooting rabbits.
+		Farther off, the fine profile and white hair of
+		an illustrious savant was gallantly inclined
+		towards the comtesse, who listened to him
+		laughing&#8212;a very slender blonde, her eyes
+		young and intent, with a collar of splendid
+		emeralds on a bosom like a professional
+		beauty, and the neck and shoulders of the
+		Venus de Medici.</p>
+
+		<p class="after_thought_break">Decidedly the dinner promised to be
+		charming as well as sumptuous. Ennui,
+		that too frequent guest at mundane feasts,
+		would not come to sit at that table. These
+		fortunate ones were going to pass a delicious
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page124" name="page124"></a>124</span>hour, drinking enjoyment through every
+		pore, by every sense.</p>
+
+		<div class="figcenter">
+			<img src="images/fig137.jpg" alt="A woman and man converse at table; a second man looks thoughtfully at his plate." />
+		</div>
+
+		<p>Now, at that same table, at the lower end,
+		in the most modest place, a man still young,
+		the least qualified, the most obscure of all
+		who were there, a man of reverie and imagination,
+		one of those dreamers in whom is
+		something of philosophy, something of poetry,
+		sat silent.</p>
+
+		<p>Admitted into that high society by virtue
+		of his renown as an artist, one of nature&#8217;s
+		aristocrats but without vanity, sprung from
+		the people and not forgetting it, he breathed
+		voluptuously that flower of civilization which
+		is called good company.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page125" name="page125"></a>125</span>He knew&#8212;none better than he&#8212;how everything
+		in this environment&#8212;the charm of
+		the women, the wit of the men, the glittering
+		table, the furnishing of the hall, to the
+		exquisite wine which he had just touched
+		to his lips&#8212;how everything was choice and
+		rare, and he rejoiced that a concourse of
+		things so lovely and so harmonious existed.
+		He was plunged in a bath of optimism; it
+		seemed to him good that there should be,
+		sometimes and somewhere in the weary
+		world, beings almost happy. Provided that
+		they were accessible to pity, charitable&#8212;and
+		these happy people probably were that&#8212;who
+		could distress them? what could injure
+		them? Ah, beautiful and consoling chimera
+		to believe that for such as these life is
+		pleasant; that they retain always&#8212;or almost
+		always&#8212;that gay, happy light in the
+		eye, that half-blossomed smile upon the
+		lips; that they have blotted out, as far
+		as possible, from their existence, imperious
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page126" name="page126"></a>126</span>and discreditable desires and abject infirmities.</p>
+
+		<p>He whom we will call the Dreamer was
+		pursuing that train of thought, when the
+		<i>maître d&#8217;hôtel</i>&#8212;the superb <i>maître d&#8217;hôtel</i>&#8212;entered
+		with solemnity, carrying in a great silver
+		plate a turbot of fabulous dimensions&#8212;one
+		of those phenomenal fish which are only
+		seen in the old paintings representing the
+		miraculous draught of fish, or perhaps in
+		the window of Chevet, before a row of astonished
+		street-boys who flatten their noses
+		against the glass window.</p>
+
+		<p class="post_thought_break">Dinner is served. But when the Dreamer
+		had before him on his plate a portion of
+		the monstrous turbot, the light odor of the
+		sea evoked in his mind, prone to unexpected
+		suggestions, that corner of Breton, that poor
+		village of sailors, where he had been belated
+		the other autumn until the equinox, and
+		where he had rendered assistance in some
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page127" name="page127"></a>127</span>dreadful storms. He suddenly called to
+		mind that terrible night when the fishing-boats
+		could not come back to port, the night
+		that he had passed on the mole amid a
+		group of frightened women, standing where
+		the sea-spray streamed down his face, and
+		the cold and furious wind seemed striving
+		to tear his clothes from his back. What
+		a life was theirs, those poor men! Down
+		there how many widows, young and old,
+		wearing always the black shawl, went at
+		break of day, with their swarms of children,
+		to earn their bread&#8212;oh, nothing but
+		bread!&#8212;working in the sickening smell of
+		hot oil in the sardine factories! He saw
+		again in memory the church above the village,
+		half-way up the cliff, the steeple painted
+		white to show to the distant boats the
+		passage between the reefs; and he saw,
+		also, in the short grass of the cemetery
+		nibbled by the sheep, the gravestones on
+		which this sinister inscription was so often
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page128" name="page128"></a>128</span>repeated: &#8220;<i>Lost at sea.</i>&#8221; &#8220;<i>Lost at sea.</i>&#8221; &#8220;<i>Lost
+		at sea.</i>&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>The enormous turbot was of savory and
+		delicate taste, and the shrimp sauce with
+		which it was served proved that the <i>chef</i> of
+		the comte had followed a course in cooking
+		at the Café Anglais and profited by it.
+		For our refined civilization reaches even this
+		point. One takes degrees in culinary science.
+		There are doctors in roasts and bachelors
+		in sauces. All of the guests eat as if
+		they appreciated, and with delicate gestures,
+		but without showing special favor for exceptional
+		dishes, through good form and because
+		they were habituated to exquisite food.</p>
+
+		<p class="post_thought_break">The Dreamer himself had no appetite.
+		He was still in thought with the Bretons,
+		with the sons of the sea, who had caught, perhaps,
+		this magnificent turbot. He remembered
+		the day that followed the tempest&#8212;that
+		morning, rainy and gray&#8212;when, walking by
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page129" name="page129"></a>129</span>the heavy, leaden sea, he had found a body
+		at his feet and recognized it as that of an old
+		sailor, the father of a family, who had been
+		lost at sea three days before&#8212;mournful jetsam,
+		stranded in the wrack and foam, so
+		heart-rending to see, with the gray hair of
+		the drowned full of sand and shells!</p>
+
+		<p>A shudder passed over his heart.</p>
+
+		<p>But the lackeys had already removed the
+		plates; every trace of the giant fish had disappeared,
+		and while they were serving another
+		course, the diners, elegant triflers, had
+		taken up their chat again.<img class="figright" src="images/fig142.jpg" alt="A small table with a teapot on it." />
+		Hunger being already somewhat
+		appeased, they were
+		more animated, they spoke
+		with more abandon&#8212;light
+		laughs ran round. Oh, charming
+		and gracious company!</p>
+
+		<p class="post_thought_break">Then the Dreamer, the silent
+		guest, was seized with an
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page130" name="page130"></a>130</span>infinite sadness; for all the work and distress
+		that were required to create this comfort
+		and well-being came surging on his
+		imagination.</p>
+
+		<p>That these men of the world might wear
+		light dress-coats in mid-December, that these
+		women might expose their arms and their
+		shoulders, the temperature of the room was
+		that of a spring morning. And who furnished
+		the coal? The poor devils of the
+		black country, the subterranean workmen
+		who lived in hellish mines. How white and
+		fresh is the complexion of that young woman
+		against her corsage of pink satin! But
+		who had woven that satin? The human
+		spider of Lyons, the weaver, always at his
+		trade in the leprous houses of the Croix
+		Rousse. She wears in her tiny ears two
+		beautiful pearls. What brilliancy! what opaline
+		transparence! Almost perfect spheres!
+		The pearl which Cleopatra dissolved in vinegar
+		and swallowed, and which was worth
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page131" name="page131"></a>131</span>ten thousand sesterces, was not more pure.
+		But does she know, that young woman, that
+		in far-off Ceylon, on the pearl-oyster banks
+		of Arripo and Condatchy, the Indians of the
+		Indian Company plunge heroically down in
+		twelve fathoms of water, one foot in the
+		heavy stone weight which drags them down
+		to the bottom, a knife in the left hand for
+		defence against the shark?</p>
+
+		<p class="post_thought_break">But what of that? One is lovely and coquettish.
+		The air of the dining-hall is warm
+		and perfumed. There one can dine gaily,
+		adorned and half nude, flirting with one&#8217;s
+		neighbors. What has one to do, I ask you,
+		with a dark workman, who digs fifty feet
+		under the ground, with a weaver sitting with
+		stiffened joints before the loom, with a savage
+		who emerges from the sea and sometimes
+		reddens it with his blood? Why should one
+		think of things so sad, so ugly? What an absurdity!</p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page132" name="page132"></a>132</span>Meanwhile the Dreamer pursued his train
+		of thought.</p>
+
+		<p>An instant ago, without taking thought,
+		mechanically he crumbled on the cloth a bit
+		of the gilded bread which was placed near
+		his napkin. As a viand, a mere bit of fancy,
+		insignificant in such a repast, it made him
+		think of the <i>naïf</i> phrase of the great lady
+		concerning the starving wretches&#8212;&#8220;Let
+		them eat cake.&#8221; Nevertheless, this little
+		cake is bread all the same&#8212;bread made of
+		flour, which in turn is made of wheat. Great
+		heaven! yes, it is bread, simply bread, like
+		the loaf of the peasant, like the bran-roll of
+		the soldier; and that it might be here, on
+		the table of the rich, required the patient labor
+		of many poor.</p>
+
+		<p>The peasant labored, sowed, reaped. He
+		pushed his plough or led his harrow across
+		the fertile field, under the cold needles of
+		the autumn rain; he started from sleep, full
+		of terror for his crop, when it thundered by
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page133" name="page133"></a>133</span>night; he trembled, seeing the passage of
+		great violet clouds charged with hail; he
+		went forth, dissatisfied and gloomy, to the
+		heavy work and exhausting labor of harvest.</p>
+
+		<p>And when the old miller, twisted by rheumatism
+		which he has caught in the river
+		fogs, has sent the flour to Paris, the market-porters
+		with the great white hats have carried
+		the crushing sacks on their broad backs,
+		and last night, even, in the baker&#8217;s cellar the
+		workmen toiled until morning.</p>
+
+		<p>Verily, yes! It has cost all these efforts,
+		all these pains&#8212;the bit of bread carelessly
+		broken by the white hands of these patricians.</p>
+
+		<p>And now the incorrigible Dreamer was
+		possessed by these things. The delicacies
+		of the repast only recalled to him the suffering
+		of humanity. Presently, when the
+		butler poured for him a glass of Chambertin,
+		did he not remember that certain glass-blowers
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page134" name="page134"></a>134</span>became consumptive through blowing
+		bottles?</p>
+
+		<p>Let it pass&#8212;it is absurd. He well knows
+		that so the world is made. An economist
+		would have laughed in his face. Would he
+		become a Socialist, perhaps? There will always
+		be rich and poor, as there will always
+		be well-formed men and hunchbacks.</p>
+
+		<p>Besides, the fortunates before him were
+		not unjustly so. These were not vulgar favorites
+		of the Gilded Calf&#8212;parvenus gross
+		and conceited. The nobleman who presides
+		at the table bears with honor and dignity
+		a name associated with all the glories
+		of France; the general with the gray mustache
+		is a hero, and charged at Rezonville
+		with the intrepidity of a Murat; the painter,
+		the poet, have faithfully served Art and
+		Beauty; the chemist, a self-made man who
+		began life as a shop-boy in a drug-store, and
+		to whom the learned world listens to-day as
+		to an oracle, is simply a man of genius;
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page135" name="page135"></a>135</span>these high-born dames are generous and
+		good, and they will often dip their fair hands
+		courageously in the depth of misfortune.
+		Why should not these members of the <i>élite</i>
+		have exceptional enjoyment?</p>
+
+		<p>The Dreamer said to himself that he had
+		been unjust. These were old sophisms&#8212;good,
+		at the best, for the clubs of the faubourgs,
+		which had been awakened in his
+		memory, and by which he had been duped.
+		Is it possible? He was ashamed of himself.</p>
+
+		<p>But the dinner neared its end; and while
+		the lackeys refilled for the last time the
+		champagne-glasses, the table grew silent&#8212;the
+		guests felt the apathy of digestion. The
+		Dreamer looked at them, one after the other,
+		and all the faces had satiated, <i>blasé</i> expressions
+		which disturbed and disquieted
+		him. A sentiment, obscure, inexplicable, but
+		so bitter! protested even from the depth of
+		his soul against that repast; and when they
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page136" name="page136"></a>136</span>rose at last from the table, he repeated softly
+		and stubbornly to himself:</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Yes; they are within their rights. But
+		do they know, do they understand, that their
+		luxury is made from many miseries? Do
+		they think of it sometimes? Do they think
+		of it as often as they should? Do they think
+		of it?&#8221;</p>
+
+		<div class="figcenter last_picture">
+			<img src="images/fig149.jpg" alt="A pile of hats sits on a padded bench." />
+		</div>
+
+	</div>
+
+	<div id="tale_7" class="tale">
+
+		<h2 class="tale_title"><span class="pagenum"><a id="page137" name="page137"></a>137</span>AN ACCIDENT.</h2>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum blank_page"><a id="page138" name="page138"></a>138</span></p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page139" name="page139"></a>139</span></p>
+
+		<div class="figcenter first_picture">
+			<img src="images/fig152.jpg" alt="A still life with a small statue of a woman holding a baby, a candle, and eyeglasses resting on the pages of an open book." />
+		</div>
+
+		<h3>I.</h3>
+
+		<p>Saint Medard, the old church of the Rue
+		Mouffetard, once well known as the scene of
+		the Convulsionnaires, is a very poor parish.
+		The &#8220;Faubourg Marceau,&#8221; as they call it
+		there, has not much religion, and the vestry-board
+		must have hard work to make both
+		ends meet. On Sundays, at the hours of
+		service, there are but few there, and they are
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page140" name="page140"></a>140</span>for the most part women: some twenty of the
+		folk of the quarter and some servants in their
+		round caps. As for the men, there are not at
+		the most more than three or four&#8212;old men
+		in peasant jackets, who kneel awkwardly on
+		the stone floor, near a pillar, their caps under
+		their arms, rolling a great chaplet of
+		beads between their fingers, moving their
+		lips, and raising their eyes towards the arched
+		roof, with an air as if they had given the
+		stained-glass windows. On week days, nobody.
+		On Thursdays, in the winter, the
+		aisles resounded for an instant with the
+		clang of wooden shoes, when the students
+		of the catechism came and went. Sometimes
+		a poor woman, leading one or two
+		children and carrying a baby in her arms,
+		came to burn a little candle on the stand
+		at the chapel of the Virgin, or perhaps one
+		heard by the baptismal font the wailing of
+		a new-born babe; or, more often, the funeral
+		of some poor wretch: a deal box, covered
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page141" name="page141"></a>141</span>with a black cloth and resting on two trestles,
+		hastily blessed by the priest, before a
+		little group of women, the men being free-thinkers,
+		and waiting the conclusion of the
+		ceremony in the drinking-shop across the
+		way, where they played bagatelle for drinks.</p>
+
+		<p>Therefore, the old Abbé Faber, one of the
+		vicars of the parish, is sure that twice out of
+		three times he will find no penitent before
+		his confessional, and has only to hear, for
+		the most part of the time, the uninteresting
+		confession of some good women. But he is
+		conscientious, and on Tuesdays, Thursdays,
+		and Saturdays, at seven o&#8217;clock precisely,
+		he betakes himself regularly to the chapel
+		of St. John, only to make a short prayer and
+		return should there be nobody there.</p>
+
+
+
+		<h3>II.</h3>
+
+		<p>One day last winter, struggling against a
+		heavy wind with his open umbrella, the Abbé
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page142" name="page142"></a>142</span>Faber toiled painfully up the Rue Mouffetard,
+		on the way to his parish, and, almost
+		certain that his toil was useless, he regretted
+		to himself the warm fire he had just quitted
+		in his little room in the Rue D&#8217;homond, and
+		the folio <i>Bollandiste</i> which he had left lying
+		on the table, with his eye-glasses on its open
+		pages. But it was Saturday night, the day
+		when certain old widows, who earned their
+		scant income in the neighboring boarding-houses,
+		sometimes sought absolution for the
+		morrow&#8217;s communion. The honest priest
+		could not, therefore, excuse himself from
+		entering his oak box and opening, with the
+		punctuality of a cashier, that wicket where
+		the devotees, for whom the confessional is a
+		spiritual savings-bank, make a weekly deposit
+		of their venial sins.</p>
+
+		<p>The Abbé Faber was the more sorry to
+		go out, because that particular Saturday was
+		pay-day, and on such occasions the Rue
+		Mouffetard swarmed with people, and a people
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page143" name="page143"></a>143</span>not well disposed toward his cloth. However
+		good a man one may be, it is far from
+		agreeable to be forced to lower the eyes to
+		avoid malevolent looks, and to stop the ears
+		against insolent words heard in passing.
+		There was a certain drinking-shop which the
+		abbé particularly dreaded&#8212;a shop brilliant
+		with gas and exhaling an odor of alcohol
+		through its open doors, through which one
+		could see a perspective of barrels labelled:
+		&#8220;Absinthe,&#8221; &#8220;Bitter,&#8221; &#8220;Madère,&#8221; &#8220;Vermouth,&#8221;
+		etc. Here, leaning against the bar,
+		were always a band of loafers in long blouses
+		and high hats, who saluted the poor abbé,
+		walking quickly along the pavement, with
+		ribald jests.</p>
+
+		<p>However, on this night the streets were
+		deserted on account of the bad weather, and
+		the abbé reached his church without interruption.
+		He dipped his finger in the holy
+		water, crossed himself, made a brief reverence
+		before the grand altar, and went towards
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page144" name="page144"></a>144</span>his confessional. At least he had not
+		come for nothing. A penitent was waiting.</p>
+
+
+
+		<h3>III.</h3>
+
+		<p>A male penitent! a rare and exceptional
+		thing at Saint Médard. But, distinguishing
+		by the red light of the lamp hanging from
+		the roof of the chapel the short white jacket
+		and the heavy nailed shoes of the kneeling
+		man, the Abbé Faber believed him to be
+		some workman who had kept his rustic
+		faith and his early habits of religious observance.
+		Without doubt the confession that
+		he was about to hear would be as stupid as
+		that of the cook of the Rue Monge, who, after
+		having accused himself of petty thefts, exclaimed
+		loudly against a single word of restitution.
+		The priest even smiled to himself
+		as he remembered the formal confession of
+		one of the inhabitants of the faubourg, who
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page145" name="page145"></a>145</span>came to ask for a billet of confession that
+		he might marry. &#8220;I have neither killed or
+		robbed. Ask me about the rest.&#8221; And so
+		the vicar entered very tranquilly into his
+		confessional, and, after having taken a copious
+		pinch of snuff, opened without emotion
+		the little curtain of green serge which closed
+		the wicket.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Monsieur le curé,&#8221; stammered a rough
+		voice, which was making an effort to speak
+		low.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;I am not a curé, my friend. Say your
+		<i>confiteor</i>, and call me father.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>The man, whose face the abbé could not
+		see among the shadows, stumbled through
+		the prayer, which he seemed to have great
+		difficulty in recalling, and he began again in
+		a hoarse whisper:</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Monsieur le curé&#8212;no&#8212;my father&#8212;excuse
+		me if I do not speak properly, but I
+		have not been to confession for twenty-five
+		years&#8212;no, not since I quitted the country&#8212;you
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page146" name="page146"></a>146</span>know how it is&#8212;a man in Paris, and
+		yet I have not been worse than other people,
+		and I have said to myself, &#8216;God must
+		be a good sort of fellow.&#8217; But to-day what
+		I have on my conscience is too heavy to carry
+		alone, and you must hear me, monsieur le
+		curé: I have killed a man!&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>The abbé half rose from his seat. A murderer!
+		There was no longer any question
+		of his mind wandering from the duties of
+		his office, of half annoyance at the garrulity
+		of the old women, to whom he listened with
+		a half attentive ear, and whom he absolved
+		in all confidence. A murderer! That head
+		which was so near his had conceived and
+		planned such a crime! Those hands, crossed
+		on the confessional, were perhaps still stained
+		with blood! In his trouble, perhaps not unmixed
+		with a certain amount of fear, the
+		Abbé Faber could only speak mechanically.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Confess yourself, my son. The mercy of
+		God is infinite.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page147" name="page147"></a>147</span>&#8220;Listen to my whole story,&#8221; said the man,
+		with a voice trembling with profound grief.
+		&#8220;I am a workingman, and I came to Paris
+		more than twenty years ago with a fellow-countryman,
+		a companion from childhood.
+		We robbed birds&#8217;-nests, and we learned to
+		read in school together&#8212;almost a brother,
+		sir. He was called Philip; I am called Jack,
+		myself. He was a fine big fellow; I have always
+		been heavy and ill-formed. There was
+		never a better workman than he&#8212;while I am
+		only a &#8216;botcher&#8217;&#8212;and so generous and good-natured,
+		wearing his heart on his sleeve. I
+		was proud to be his friend, to walk by his
+		side&#8212;proud when he clapped me on the back
+		and called me a clumsy fellow. I loved him
+		because I admired him, in fact. Once here,
+		what an opportunity! We worked together
+		for the same employer, but he left me alone
+		in the evenings more than half the time.
+		He preferred to amuse himself with his companions&#8212;natural
+		enough, at his age. He
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page148" name="page148"></a>148</span>loved pleasure, he was free, he had no responsibilities.
+		All this was impossible for me.
+		I was forced to save my money, for at that
+		time I had an invalid mother in the country,
+		and I sent her all my savings. As for
+		me, I stayed at the fruiterer&#8217;s where I lodged,
+		and who kept a lodging-house for masons.
+		Philip did not dine there; he used to go
+		somewhere else, and, to tell the truth, the
+		dinners were not particularly good. But the
+		fruiterer was a widow, far from happy, and I
+		saw that my payments were of help to her;
+		and then, to be frank, I fell at once in love
+		with her daughter. Poor Catherine! You
+		will soon know, monsieur le curé, what came
+		from it all. I was there three years without
+		daring to tell her of the love I had for her.
+		I have told you that I am not a good workman,
+		and the little that I gained hardly sufficed
+		for me and for the support of my
+		mother. There could be no thought of
+		marrying. At last my good mother left this
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page149" name="page149"></a>149</span>world for a better. I was somewhat less
+		pressed for money, and I began to save, and
+		when it seemed to me that I had enough
+		to begin with, I told Catherine of my love.
+		She said nothing at first&#8212;neither yes nor
+		no. Well, I knew that no one would fall
+		upon my neck; I am not attractive. In the
+		mean time Catherine consulted her mother,
+		who thought well of me as a steady workman,
+		as a good fellow, and the marriage was
+		decided upon. Ah, I had some happy weeks!
+		I saw that Catherine barely accepted me, and
+		that she was by no means carried away with
+		me; but as she had a good heart, I hoped
+		that she would love me some day&#8212;I would
+		make her love me. As a matter of course, I
+		told everything to Philip, whom I saw every
+		day at the work-yard, and as Catherine and
+		I were engaged, I wanted him to meet her.
+		Perhaps you have already guessed the end,
+		monsieur le curé. Philip was handsome,
+		lively, good-tempered&#8212;everything that I
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page150" name="page150"></a>150</span>was not; and without attempting it, innocently
+		enough, he fascinated Catherine. Ah,
+		Catherine had a frank and honest heart, and
+		as soon as she recognized what had happened
+		she at once told me everything.</p>
+
+		<div class="figcenter">
+			<img src="images/fig163.jpg" alt="A seated man looks at a woman whose back is turned and head is bowed." />
+		</div>
+
+		<p class="continued">Ah, I can never forget that moment! It was
+		Catherine&#8217;s birthday, and in honor of it I
+		had bought a little cross of gold which I had
+		arranged in a box with cotton. We were
+		alone in the back shop, and she had just
+		brought me my soup. I took my box from
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page151" name="page151"></a>151</span>my pocket, and, opening it, I showed her
+		the jewel. Then she burst into tears.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;&#8216;Forgive me, Jack,&#8217; she said, &#8216;and keep
+		that for her whom you will marry. As for
+		me, I can never become your wife. I love
+		another&#8212;I love Philip.&#8217;</p>
+
+
+		<h3>IV.</h3>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Believe me, I had trouble enough then,
+		monsieur le curé; my soul was full of it.
+		But what could I do, since I loved them
+		both? Only what I believed was for their
+		happiness&#8212;let them marry. And as Philip
+		had always lived freely, and spent as he
+		made, I lent him my hoard to buy the furniture.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Then they were married, and for a while
+		all went well. They had a little boy, and I
+		stood sponsor for him and named him Camille,
+		in remembrance of his mother. It
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page152" name="page152"></a>152</span>was a little after the birth of the baby that
+		Philip began to go wrong. I was mistaken
+		in him&#8212;he was not made for marriage; he
+		was too fond of frivolity and pleasure. You
+		live in a poor quarter, monsieur le curé, and
+		you must know the sad story by heart&#8212;the
+		workman who glides little by little from idleness
+		into drunkenness, who is off on a spree
+		for two or three days, who does not bring
+		home his week&#8217;s wages, and who only returns
+		to his home, broken up by his spree, to make
+		scenes and to beat his wife. In less than
+		two years Philip became one of these wretches.
+		At first I tried to reform him, and sometimes,
+		ashamed of himself, he would attempt
+		to do better; but that did not last long.
+		Then my remonstrances only irritated him;
+		and when I went to his house, and he saw
+		me look sadly around the chamber made
+		bare by the pawn-shop, at poor Catherine,
+		thin and pale with grief, he became furious.
+		One day he had the audacity to be jealous
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page153" name="page153"></a>153</span>of me on account of his wife, who was as
+		pure as the blessed Virgin, reminding me
+		that I was once her lover and accusing me
+		of still being so, with slanders and infamies
+		that I should be ashamed to repeat. We
+		almost flew at each other&#8217;s throats. I saw
+		what I must do. I would see Catherine and
+		my godson no more; and as for Philip, I
+		would only meet him when by chance we
+		worked on the same job.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Only, you will understand, I loved Catherine
+		and little Camille too well to lose sight
+		of them entirely. On Saturday evenings,
+		when I knew that Philip was drinking up his
+		wages with his comrades, I used to prowl
+		about the quarter, and chat with the boy
+		when I found him; and if it was too miserable
+		at home, he did not return with empty
+		hands, you know. I believe that the wretched
+		Philip knew that I was helping his wife,
+		and that he closed his eyes to the fact, finding
+		it rather convenient. I will hurry on,
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page154" name="page154"></a>154</span>for the story is too miserable. Some years
+		have passed; Philip plunging deeper in vice;
+		but Catherine, whom I had helped all I
+		could, has educated her son, who is now a
+		fellow of twenty years, good and courageous
+		like herself. He is not a workman; he is
+		educated; he has learned to draw at the
+		evening schools, and he is now with an architect,
+		where he gets good wages. And
+		though the house is saddened by the presence
+		of the drunkard, things go fairly well,
+		for Camille is a great comfort to his mother;
+		and for a year or two, when I see Catherine&#8212;she
+		is so changed, the poor woman!&#8212;leaning
+		on the arm of her manly son, it warms
+		my heart.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;But yesterday evening, coming out of
+		my cook-shop, I met Camille; and shaking
+		hands with him&#8212;oh, he is not ashamed of
+		me, and he doesn&#8217;t blush at a blouse covered
+		with plaster&#8212;I saw that something was the
+		matter.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page155" name="page155"></a>155</span>&#8220;&#8216;Let&#8217;s see&#8212;what&#8217;s the matter now?&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;&#8216;I drew the lot yesterday,&#8217; he replied,
+		&#8216;and I drew the number ten&#8212;a number that
+		sends you to die with fever in the colonies
+		with the marines. That will, at all events,
+		send me there for five years, to leave mother
+		alone, without resources, with father, who
+		has never been drinking so much, who has
+		never been so wicked. And it will kill her&#8212;it
+		will kill her! How cursed it is to be
+		poor!&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Oh, what a horrible night I passed!
+		Think of it, monsieur le curé, that poor
+		woman&#8217;s labor for twenty years destroyed
+		in a minute by an unhappy chance; because
+		a child, rummaging in a sack, has drawn an
+		unfortunate number! In the morning I was
+		broken as by age when I went to the house
+		we were building on the Boulevard Arago.
+		Of what use is sorrow? we must work all
+		the same. So I mounted the scaffolding.
+		We had already built the house to the fourth
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page156" name="page156"></a>156</span>story, and I began to place my mortar. Suddenly
+		I felt some one strike me on the shoulder.
+		It was Philip. He only worked now
+		when the inclination seized him, and he was
+		apparently putting in a day&#8217;s work to get
+		something to drink; but the builder, having
+		a forfeit to pay if the building was not finished
+		by a certain date, accepted the first-comers.</p>
+
+
+
+		<h3>V.</h3>
+
+		<p>&#8220;I had not seen Philip for a long time,
+		and it was with difficulty that I recognized
+		him. Burned and fevered by brandy, his
+		beard gray, his hands trembling, he was
+		more than an old man&#8212;he was a ruin.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;&#8216;Well,&#8217; I said to him, &#8216;the boy has drawn
+		a bad number.&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;&#8216;What of it?&#8217; he replied, with an angry
+		look. &#8216;Are you going to worry me about
+		that, too, like Catherine and Camille? The
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page157" name="page157"></a>157</span>boy will do as others have done: he will
+		serve his country. I know what worries
+		them, both my wife and son. If I were dead
+		he would not have to go. But, so much the
+		worse for them, I am still solid at my post,
+		and Camille is not the son of a widow.&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;The son of a widow! Ah, monsieur le
+		curé, why did he use that unhappy phrase?
+		The evil thought came to me at once, and it
+		never quitted me all the morning that I
+		worked at the wretch&#8217;s side. I imagined all
+		that she was about to suffer&#8212;poor Catherine!&#8212;when
+		she no longer had her son to care for
+		and protect her, and she must be alone with
+		the miserable drunkard, now completely brutalized,
+		ugly, and capable of anything. A
+		neighboring clock struck eleven, and the
+		workmen all descended to lunch. We remained
+		until the last, Philip and I, but in
+		stepping on the ladder to descend, he turned
+		to me with a leer, and said, in his hoarse,
+		dissipated voice:</p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page158" name="page158"></a>158</span>&#8220;&#8216;You see, steady as a sailor; Camille is
+		not nearly the son of a widow.&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;The blood mounted to my head. I was
+		beside myself. I seized with both hands
+		the rounds of the ladder to which Philip
+		clung shouting &#8216;Help!&#8217; and with a single
+		effort I toppled it over.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;He was instantly killed&#8212;by an accident,
+		they said&#8212;and now Camille is the son of a
+		widow and need not go.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;That is what I have done, monsieur le
+		curé, and what I want to tell to you and to
+		the good God. I repent, I ask pardon, of
+		course; but I must not see Catherine in her
+		black dress, happy on the arm of her son, or
+		I could not regret my crime. To prevent
+		that I will emigrate&#8212;I will lose myself in
+		America. As to my penance&#8212;see, monsieur
+		le curé, here is the little cross of gold that
+		Catherine refused when she told me that she
+		was in love with Philip. I have always kept
+		it, in memory of the only happy days that I
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page159" name="page159"></a>159</span>ever knew in my life. Take it and sell it.
+		Give the money to the poor.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p class="post_thought_break">Jack rose absolved by the Abbé Faber.</p>
+
+		<p>One thing is certain, and that is that the
+		priest never sold the little cross of gold.
+		After having paid its price into the Treasury
+		of the Church, he hung the jewel, as an <i>ex-voto</i>,
+		on the altar of the chapel of the Virgin,
+		where he often went to pray for the poor
+		mason.</p>
+
+		<div class="figcenter last_picture">
+			<img src="images/fig172.jpg" alt="Two men carry a draped coffin." />
+		</div>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum blank_page"><a id="page160" name="page160"></a>160</span></p>
+
+	</div>
+
+	<div id="tale_8" class="tale">
+		<h2 class="tale_title"><span class="pagenum"><a id="page161" name="page161"></a>161</span>THE SABOTS OF LITTLE WOLFF.</h2>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum blank_page"><a id="page162" name="page162"></a>162</span></p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page163" name="page163"></a>163</span></p>
+
+		<div class="figcenter first_picture">
+			<img src="images/fig176.jpg" alt="A pair of wooden shoes." title="The Sabots of little Wolff. A Christmas Story." />
+		</div>
+
+		<p>Once upon a time&#8212;it was so long ago that
+		the whole world has forgotten the date&#8212;in
+		a city in the north of Europe&#8212;whose name
+		is so difficult to pronounce that nobody remembers
+		it&#8212;once upon a time there was a
+		little boy of seven, named Wolff, an orphan
+		in charge of an old aunt who was hard and
+		avaricious, who only embraced him on New-Year&#8217;s
+		Day, and who breathed a sigh of regret
+		every time that she gave him a porringer
+		of soup.</p>
+
+		<p>But the poor little chap was naturally so
+		good that he loved the old woman just the
+		same, although she frightened him very
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page164" name="page164"></a>164</span>much, and he could never see without trembling
+		the great wart, ornamented with four
+		gray hairs, which she had on the end of her
+		nose.</p>
+
+		<p>As the aunt of Wolff was known through
+		all the village to have a house and an old
+		stocking full of gold, she did not dare send
+		her nephew to the school for the poor. But
+		she so schemed to obtain a reduction of the
+		price with the school-master whose school
+		little Wolff attended, that the bad teacher,
+		vexed at having a scholar so badly dressed
+		and who paid so poorly, punished him very
+		often and unjustly with the backboard and
+		fool&#8217;s cap, and even stirred his fellow-pupils
+		against him, all sons of well-to-do men, who
+		made the orphan their scapegoat.</p>
+
+		<p>The poor little fellow was therefore as
+		miserable as the stones in the street, and hid
+		himself in out-of-the-way corners to cry;
+		when Christmas came.</p>
+
+		<p>The night before Christmas the school-master
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page165" name="page165"></a>165</span>was to take all of his pupils to the
+		midnight mass, and bring them back to their
+		homes.</p>
+
+		<p>Now, as the winter was very severe that
+		year, and as for several days a great quantity
+		of snow had fallen, the scholars came to
+		the rendezvous warmly wrapped and bundled
+		up, with fur caps pulled down over
+		their ears, double and triple jackets, knitted
+		gloves and mittens, and good thick nailed
+		boots with strong soles. Only little Wolff
+		came shivering in the clothes that he wore
+		week-days and Sundays, and with nothing
+		on his feet but coarse Strasbourg socks and
+		heavy sabots, or wooden shoes.</p>
+
+		<p>His thoughtless comrades made a thousand
+		jests over his sad looks and his peasant&#8217;s
+		dress. But the orphan was so occupied
+		in blowing on his fingers, and suffered so
+		much from his chilblains, that he took no notice
+		of them; and the troop of boys, with the
+		master at their head, started for the church.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page166" name="page166"></a>166</span><img class="figleft" src="images/fig179.jpg" alt="A little boy blows on his hands." />
+		It was fine in the church, which was resplendent
+		with wax-candles; and the scholars,
+		excited by the pleasant warmth, profited
+		by the noise of the organ and the singing to
+		talk to each other in a low voice. They
+		boasted of the fine suppers that were waiting
+		for them at home. The son of the
+		burgomaster had seen, before he went out,
+		a monstrous goose that the truffles marked
+		with black spots like a leopard. At the
+		house of the first citizen there was a little
+		fir-tree in a wooden box, from whose branches
+		hung oranges, sweetmeats, and toys. And
+		the cook of the first citizen had pinned behind
+		her back the two strings of her cap, as
+		she only did on her days of inspiration when
+		she was sure of succeeding with her famous
+		sugar-candy. And then the scholars spoke,
+		too, of what the Christ-child would bring to
+		them, of what he would put in their shoes,
+		which they would, of course, be very careful
+		to leave in the chimney before going to bed.
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page167" name="page167"></a>167</span>And the eyes of those little chaps, lively as
+		a parcel of mice, sparkled in advance with
+		the joy of seeing in their imagination pink
+		paper bags of burnt almonds, lead soldiers
+		drawn up in battalions in their boxes, menageries
+		smelling of varnished wood, and magnificent
+		jumping-jacks covered with purple
+		and bells.</p>
+
+		<p>Little Wolff knew very well by experience
+		that his old miserly aunt would send him
+		supperless to bed. But in the simplicity of
+		his soul, and knowing that he had been all
+		the year as good and industrious as possible,
+		he hoped that the Christ-child would not
+		forget him, and he, too, looked eagerly forward
+		by-and-by to putting his wooden shoes
+		in the ashes of the fireplace.</p>
+
+		<p>The midnight mass concluded, the faithful
+		went away, anxious for supper, and the
+		band of scholars, walking two by two after
+		their teacher, left the church.</p>
+
+		<p>Now, under the porch, sitting on a stone
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page168" name="page168"></a>168</span>seat under a Gothic niche, a child was sleeping&#8212;a
+		child covered by a robe of white linen,
+		and whose feet were bare, notwithstanding
+		the cold. He was not a beggar, for his robe
+		was new and nice, and near him on the
+		ground were seen, lying in a cloth, a square,
+		a hatchet, a pair of compasses, and the other
+		tools of a carpenter&#8217;s apprentice. <img class="figleft" src="images/fig181.jpg" alt="A boy wrapped in cloth, sleeping in a niche. He has a halo and bare feet. A wooden shoe is on the ground before him." />Under
+		the light of the stars, his face, with its closed
+		eyes, bore an expression of divine sweetness,
+		and his long locks of golden
+		hair seemed like an <i>auréole</i>
+		about his head. But
+		the child&#8217;s feet, blue in
+		the cold of that December
+		night, were sad to see.</p>
+
+		<p>The scholars, so well
+		clothed and shod for the
+		winter, passed heedlessly
+		before the unknown child.
+		One of them, even, the son
+		of one of the principal
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page169" name="page169"></a>169</span>men in the village, looked at the waif with
+		an expression in which could be seen all the
+		scorn of the rich for the poor, the well-fed
+		for the hungry.</p>
+
+		<p>But little Wolff, coming the last out of the
+		church, stopped, full of compassion, before
+		the beautiful sleeping infant.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Alas!&#8221; said the orphan to himself, &#8220;it is
+		too bad: this poor little one going barefoot
+		in such bad weather. But what is worse than
+		all, he has not to-night even a boot or a wooden
+		shoe to leave before him while he sleeps,
+		so that the Christ-child could put something
+		there to comfort him in his misery.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>And, carried away by the goodness of his
+		heart, little Wolff took off the wooden shoe
+		from his right foot, and laid it in front of
+		the sleeping child; and then, as best he
+		could, limping along on his poor blistered
+		foot and dragging his sock through the
+		snow, he went back to his aunt&#8217;s.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Look at the worthless fellow!&#8221; cried his
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page170" name="page170"></a>170</span>aunt, full of anger at his return without one
+		of his shoes. &#8220;What have you done with
+		your wooden shoe, little wretch?&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>Little Wolff did not know how to deceive,
+		and although he was shaking with terror at
+		seeing the gray hairs bristle up on the nose
+		of the angry woman, he tried to stammer
+		out some account of his adventure.</p>
+
+		<p>But the old woman burst into a frightful
+		peal of laughter.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Ah, monsieur takes off his shoes for
+		beggars! Ah, monsieur gives away his wooden
+		shoe to a barefoot! That is something
+		new for example! Ah, well, since that is so,
+		I am going to put the wooden shoe which
+		you have left in the chimney, and I promise
+		you the Christ-child will leave there to-night
+		something to whip you with in the morning.
+		And you shall pass the day to-morrow on
+		dry bread and water. We will see if next
+		time you give away your shoes to the first
+		vagabond that comes.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page171" name="page171"></a>171</span>And the wicked woman, after having given
+		the poor boy a couple of slaps, made him
+		climb up to his bed in the attic. Grieved
+		to the heart, the child went to bed in the
+		dark, and soon went to sleep on his pillow
+		steeped with tears.</p>
+
+		<p>But on the morrow morning, when the old
+		woman, awakened by the cold and shaken
+		by her cough, went down stairs&#8212;oh, wonderful
+		sight!&#8212;she saw the great chimney full
+		of beautiful playthings, and sacks of magnificent
+		candies, and all sorts of good things;
+		and before all these splendid things the
+		right shoe, that her nephew had given to the
+		little waif, stood by the side of the left shoe,
+		that she herself had put there that very
+		night, and where she meant to put a birch-rod.</p>
+
+		<p>And as little Wolff, running down to learn
+		the meaning of his aunt&#8217;s exclamation, stood
+		in artless ecstasy before all these splendid
+		Christmas presents, suddenly there were loud
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page172" name="page172"></a>172</span>cries of laughter out-of-doors. The old
+		woman and the little boy went out to know
+		what it all meant, and saw all the neighbors
+		gathered around the public fountain. What
+		had happened? Oh, something very amusing
+		and very extraordinary. The children
+		of all the rich people of the village, those
+		whose parents had wished to surprise them
+		by the most beautiful gifts, had found only
+		rods in their shoes.</p>
+
+		<p>Then the orphan and the old woman,
+		thinking of all the beautiful things that were
+		in their chimney, were full of amazement.
+		But presently they saw the curé coming with
+		wonder in his face. Above the seat, placed
+		near the door of the church, at the same
+		place where in the evening a child, clad in a
+		white robe, and with feet bare notwithstanding
+		the cold, had rested his sleeping head,
+		the priest had just seen a circle of gold incrusted
+		with precious stones.</p>
+
+		<p>And they all crossed themselves devoutly,
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page173" name="page173"></a>173</span>comprehending that the beautiful sleeping
+		child, near whom were the carpenter&#8217;s tools,
+		was Jesus of Nazareth in person, become
+		for an hour such as he was when he worked
+		in his parents&#8217; house, and they bowed themselves
+		before that miracle that the good
+		God had seen fit to work, to reward the
+		faith and charity of a child.</p>
+
+		<div class="figcenter last_picture">
+			<img src="images/fig186.jpg" alt="Snowy rooftops, the church above all, and the moon shining behind." />
+		</div>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum blank_page"><a id="page174" name="page174"></a>174</span></p>
+
+	</div>
+
+	<div id="tale_9" class="tale">
+		<h2 class="tale_title"><span class="pagenum"><a id="page175" name="page175"></a>175</span>THE FOSTER SISTER.</h2>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum blank_page"><a id="page176" name="page176"></a>176</span></p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page177" name="page177"></a>177</span></p>
+
+		<div class="figcenter first_picture">
+			<img src="images/fig190.jpg" alt="Two adults and two children eat at a table." title="The Foster Sister" />
+		</div>
+
+
+		<h3>I.</h3>
+
+		<p>Sitting in her office at the end of the
+		shop, shut off from it by glass windows, pretty
+		Madame Bayard, in a black gown and
+		with her hair in sober braids, was writing
+		steadily in an enormous ledger with leather
+		corners, while her husband, following his
+		morning custom, stopped at the door to
+		scold his workmen, who had not finished
+		unloading a dray from the Northern Railway,
+		which blocked the road, and carried to
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page178" name="page178"></a>178</span>the druggist of the Rue
+		Vieille du Temple a dozen
+		casks of glucose.</p>
+
+		<p><img class="figleft" src="images/fig191.jpg" alt="A woman writes in a large book on an angled desk." />&#8220;I have bad news to
+		tell you,&#8221; said Madame
+		Bayard, sticking her pen
+		in a cup of leaden shot,
+		when her husband had
+		entered the glass cage.
+		&#8220;Poor Voisin is dead.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;The nurse of Leon? Poor woman! And
+		her little daughter?&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;That is the saddest part, my dear. A
+		relative of poor Voisin writes me that they
+		are too poor to take charge of the child, and
+		she must be sent to an orphan asylum.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Oh, those peasants!&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>The druggist was silent for a moment,
+		rubbing his thick blond beard; then suddenly
+		looking at his wife with kindly eyes:</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Say, Mimi, the child is the foster sister
+		of our Leon. Suppose we give her a home?&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page179" name="page179"></a>179</span>&#8220;I should think so,&#8221; was the quiet reply
+		of the pretty wife.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Well done,&#8221; cried Bayard, as, caring little
+		if he were seen by his clerks and store-boys,
+		he leaned towards his wife and kissed
+		her forehead, &#8220;well done! you&#8217;re a good
+		woman, Mimi. We will take little Norine
+		with us, and bring her up with Leon. That
+		won&#8217;t ruin us, eh? Besides, I have just made
+		a good stroke in quinine. We will go after
+		the child Sunday to Argenteuil, sha&#8217;n&#8217;t we?&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;We will make that our Sunday excursion.&#8221;</p>
+
+
+		<h3>II.</h3>
+
+		<p>Good people, these Bayards; an honor to
+		the drug trade. Their marriage had united
+		two houses which had been for a long time
+		rivals; for Bayard was the son of <i>The Silver
+		Pill</i>, founded by his great-great-grandfather
+		in 1756 in the Rue Vieille du Temple,
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page180" name="page180"></a>180</span>and had espoused the daughter of the <i>Offering
+		to Esculapius</i>, of the Rue des Lombards,
+		an establishment which dated from the First
+		Empire, as was shown by the sign, copied
+		from the celebrated painting of Guérin.
+		Honest people, excellent people&#8212;and there
+		are many more, like them, whatever folks
+		may say, among the older Paris houses, conservators
+		of old traditions; going to the second
+		tier, on Sunday, at the opera comique,
+		and ignorant of false weights and measures.
+		It was the curé of Blancs-Manteaux who had
+		managed that marriage with his confrère of
+		Saint-Merry. The first had ministered at
+		the death-bed of the elder Bayard, and was
+		dismayed to see a young man of twenty-five
+		all alone in a house so gloomy as that of <i>The
+		Silver Pill</i>, justly famed for its ipecac; and
+		the second was anxious to establish Mademoiselle
+		Simonin, to whom he had administered
+		her first communion, and whose father
+		was one of his most important parishioners,
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page181" name="page181"></a>181</span>old Simonin of the <i>Offering to Esculapius</i>,
+		celebrated for its camphor. The negotiations
+		were successful; camphor and ipecac,
+		two excellent specialties, were united in the
+		holy bonds of matrimony, there was a dinner
+		and ball at the Grand Véfour, and now for
+		ten years, tranquilly working every day, summer
+		and winter, in her glass cage, Madame
+		Bayard, with her pale brown face and her
+		plaited hair, had smitten the hearts of all
+		the young clerks of the quarter Sainte-Croix
+		de la Bretonnerie.</p>
+
+		<p>And yet for a long time there had been a
+		disappointment in that happy household, a
+		cloud in that bright sky. An heir was wanted,
+		and it was five years before little Leon
+		came into the world. One can imagine with
+		what joy he was received. Now one day
+		they might write over the door of <i>The Silver
+		Pill</i> these words, &#8220;Bayard &amp; Son.&#8221; But as
+		the infant arrived at the time of a boom in
+		isinglass, Madame Bayard, whose presence
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page182" name="page182"></a>182</span>in the shop was indispensable, could not
+		think of nursing him. She even gave up the
+		idea of taking a nurse in the house, fearing
+		for the new-born the close air of that corner
+		of old Paris, and contented herself with taking
+		every Sunday with her husband a little
+		excursion to Argenteuil to see her son with
+		his nurse Voisin, who was overwhelmed with
+		coffee, sugar, soap, and other dainties. At
+		the end of eighteen months Mother Voisin
+		brought back the baby in a magnificent
+		state, and for two years a child&#8217;s nurse,
+		chosen with great care, had taken the child
+		out for his airings in the square of the Tour
+		Saint-Jacques, and had exhibited for the admiration
+		of her companion-nurses, the pouting
+		lips, the high color, and the dimpled
+		back of the future druggist.</p>
+
+		<p>And now these good Bayards, learning of
+		the death of Mother Voisin, could not bear
+		the thought that the little girl who had been
+		nourished at the same breast with their boy
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page183" name="page183"></a>183</span>should be abandoned to public charity, so
+		they went to Argenteuil for Norine.</p>
+
+		<p>Poor little one! Since the fifteen days
+		that her mother slept in the cemetery she had
+		been taken charge of by a cousin who kept
+		a billiard-saloon; and though she was not
+		yet five years old, she had been put to work
+		washing the beer-glasses.</p>
+
+		<div class="figcenter">
+			<img src="images/fig196.jpg" alt="Two men sit drinking at a table." />
+		</div>
+
+		<p>The Bayards found her charming, with
+		great eyes as blue as the summer sun, and
+		her thick blond tresses escaping from her
+		ugly black bonnet. Leon, who had been
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page184" name="page184"></a>184</span>brought with his nurse, embraced his foster
+		sister; and the cousin, who that very morning
+		had boxed the orphan&#8217;s ears for negligence
+		in sweeping out the hall, appeared
+		before the Parisians to be as much touched
+		as if parting with Norine was a heart-breaking
+		affair.</p>
+
+		<p>The order for an ample breakfast restored
+		his serenity.</p>
+
+		<p>It was a beautiful Sunday in June, and
+		they were in the country&#8212;&#8220;an occasion
+		which should be improved,&#8221; declared Bayard,
+		&#8220;by taking the air; shouldn&#8217;t it, Mimi?&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>And while pretty Madame Bayard, having
+		pinned up her skirts, went out with the children
+		and the nurse to pick flowers in a neighboring
+		field, the druggist, who was less ambitious,
+		treated the saloon-keeping cousin
+		to a glass of vermouth, seated at the billiard-table,
+		which was covered with dead flies.
+		They breakfasted under a vineless arbor,
+		which the hot noonday sun riddled with its
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page185" name="page185"></a>185</span>rays. But what of that? They were pleased
+		and contented all the same. Madame Bayard
+		had hung her hat on the lattice; and
+		her husband, wearing a bargeman&#8217;s straw
+		helmet, which had been lent to him by the
+		saloon-keeper, cut up the duck in the best
+		of spirits. Little Leon and Norine, who
+		had immediately become the best of friends,
+		emptied the salad-bowl of its cream-cheese. <img class="figright" src="images/fig198.jpg" alt="A woman and a girl in tall grass." />
+		Then they all romped in the grass, went
+		boating on the stream, and, intoxicated with
+		the fresh country air, the
+		indwellers of the city,
+		coming from the close
+		Paris streets, pushed to
+		its fullest extreme this
+		idyl in the fashion of
+		Paul de Kock.</p>
+
+		<p>For, yes; there was a
+		moment, as they came
+		back in the boat, in a
+		delicious sunset, when
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page186" name="page186"></a>186</span>tinted clouds floated in a glowing sky, when
+		Madame Bayard&#8212;the serious Madame Bayard&#8212;whose
+		frown turned to stone the shop-boys
+		of the druggist, sang the air called
+		&#8220;To the Shores of France,&#8221; to the rhythmic
+		fall of the oars, plied by her husband in his
+		shirt-sleeves. They dined in the arbor where
+		they had breakfasted, but the second repast
+		was a shade less happy. The night-moths,
+		which dashed in to burn themselves at the
+		candles, frightened the children; and Madame
+		Bayard was so tired that she could
+		not even guess the simple rebus on her dessert
+		napkin.</p>
+
+		<p>Never mind; it has been a good day; and
+		on their return in a first-class carriage&#8212;this
+		was not a time for petty economies&#8212;Madame
+		Bayard, with her head on her husband&#8217;s
+		shoulder, watching Leon and Norine,
+		limp with sleep on the lap of the nurse, half
+		asleep herself, murmured to her husband, in
+		a happy voice:</p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page187" name="page187"></a>187</span>&#8220;See, Ferdinand; we have done well to
+		take the little one. She will be a comrade
+		for Leon. They will be like brother and
+		sister.&#8221;</p>
+
+
+
+		<h3>III.</h3>
+
+		<p>In fact, they did thus grow up together.</p>
+
+		<p>They were most kind-hearted people, these
+		Bayards. They made no difference between
+		the humble orphan and their own dear boy,
+		who would one day in the firm of &#8220;Bayard
+		&amp; Son&#8221; work monopolies in rhubarb and
+		corners in castor-oil; indeed, they loved as
+		their own child little Norine, who was as intelligent
+		as she was charming, as fair in mind
+		as she was delicate in body.</p>
+
+		<p>Now the nurse took the two children to
+		the square of the Tour Saint-Jacques when
+		the weather was pleasant, and in the evening
+		at the family table there were two high-chairs
+		side by side for the boy and his foster
+		sister.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page188" name="page188"></a>188</span>In addition to which, the Bayards were
+		not slow to perceive the good influence which
+		Norine had upon Leon. Quicker, of a more
+		nervous temperament, more easy of comprehension
+		than the lymphatic boy, whose wits
+		were &#8220;wool-gathering,&#8221; according to his father,
+		she seemed to communicate to him
+		something of her own spirit and fire. &#8220;She
+		jogs him up,&#8221; said Madame Bayard.</p>
+
+		<p>And since he had lived with his foster
+		sister Leon had perceptibly grown brighter
+		and quicker. When they were of an age to
+		learn to read, Leon, who made but little
+		progress, and stumbled along with one of
+		those alphabets with pictures where the letter
+		E is by the side of an elephant and the
+		letter Z by the side of a zouave, was the despair
+		of his mother. But as soon as Norine,
+		who in a very short time learned to spell
+		and read, came to the aid of the little man,
+		he immediately made rapid progress.</p>
+
+		<p>So things went on, until both children
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page189" name="page189"></a>189</span>were sent to a school for little children kept
+		by a gentlewoman named Merlin, in the Rue
+		de l&#8217;Homme Armé.</p>
+
+		<div class="figcenter">
+			<img src="images/fig202.jpg" alt="A boy and a girl hold hands and walk to school." />
+		</div>
+
+		<p class="continued">According to the fallacious
+		circular which Mademoiselle Merlin
+		sent to the folks of the quarter, there was a
+		garden&#8212;that is to say, four broomsticks in
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page190" name="page190"></a>190</span>a sandy court; and it was there, the first
+		day during recess, that the innocent Leon
+		burst into cries of terror when he saw the
+		school-mistress, forced by some accident to
+		interrupt her knitting, stick one of her great
+		knitting-needles in her capacious head-dress.
+		A &#8220;senior,&#8221; who was more familiar with her
+		head-dress, explained the phenomenon in
+		vain to Leon and Norine, for the boy, none
+		the less, preserved in the presence of Mademoiselle
+		Merlin an impression of superstitious
+		terror.</p>
+
+		<p>She would have paralyzed his infant faculties,
+		and have prevented him in the class
+		from following the pointer of Mademoiselle
+		Merlin, as she sniffled through her sing-song
+		lecture before the map of Europe, or the
+		table of weights and measures, if Norine
+		had not been there to reassure and encourage
+		him. She was at once the first scholar
+		in the school, and became for slow and lazy
+		Leon a sort of sisterly counsellor and affectionate
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page191" name="page191"></a>191</span>under-teacher. Towards four o&#8217;clock
+		Madame Bayard had the two children, whom
+		the nurse had brought back to the store,
+		placed near her in the glass office; and Norine,
+		opening a copy-book or a book, explained
+		to Leon the uncomprehended task
+		or made him repeat the lesson that he had
+		not understood.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;The good God has rewarded us,&#8221; Madame
+		Bayard sometimes whispered to her
+		husband in the evening. &#8220;That little Norine
+		is a treasure, and so good, so industrious!
+		Only to-day I listened to her helping
+		Leon again. I believe that without her he
+		would never have learned the multiplication-table.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;I believe you, Mimi,&#8221; responded Bayard.
+		&#8220;I have observed it. Things go on marvellously
+		well with us, and we will portion her
+		and marry her, shall we not, when she comes
+		to a suitable age?&#8221;</p>
+
+		<h3><span class="pagenum"><a id="page192" name="page192"></a>192</span>IV.</h3>
+
+		<p>Age comes&#8212;ah, how fast age comes! And
+		behold! now in the glass cage of the shop
+		there is a slender and beautiful young girl
+		sitting at the side of Madame Bayard, who
+		already shows some silver threads in her
+		black bands. It is Norine now who writes
+		in the great ledger with leather corners, while
+		her adopted mother plies her needles on
+		some embroidery.</p>
+
+		<p>Seven o&#8217;clock! Time that they came
+		home, and the shop must be closed against
+		the November wind which is twisting and
+		turning the flames of the gas-jets.</p>
+
+		<p>Look at them now: Bayard grown stout,
+		portly, and covered with trinkets, while Leon,
+		who has just entered the first class in pharmacy,
+		has actually become a fine-looking
+		young fellow.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Good-day, Mimi; good-day, Norine! Let
+		us go right in to dinner. I will tell you all
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page193" name="page193"></a>193</span>the news while we are eating the soup,&#8221; said
+		the druggist.</p>
+
+		<p>They went up to the dining-room, and
+		while Madame Bayard, sitting under a barometer
+		in the shape of a lyre, served the
+		thick soup, Bayard, tucking his napkin in his
+		vest and regarding his wife with a knowing
+		look, said,</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;You know it is all right.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;The Forgets agree?&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Exactly; and Leon will espouse Hortense
+		in six months, and our daughter-in-law will
+		come and live with us. Yes, Norine, you
+		have known nothing about it, because one
+		does not speak of such things before young
+		girls; but for more than a year Leon has
+		been in love with Hortense Forget, and has
+		been teasing us to arrange the marriage&#8212;not
+		such a difficult thing after all, since it
+		only required a word. Leon is a good catch.
+		The only difficulty was that we wanted to
+		keep our son with us. At last it is all arranged,
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page194" name="page194"></a>194</span>and your foster brother will have the
+		wife he wants. I hope you are pleased.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Very much pleased,&#8221; replied Norine.</p>
+
+		<p>Oh, deaf and blind! They never heard the
+		voice of Norine when she replied to them&#8212;that
+		low, pathetic tone, which is the echo of
+		a broken heart. Nor did they see how pale
+		she became, and that her head, suddenly
+		grown heavy, swayed from side to side as if
+		Norine were about to faint. They saw nothing,
+		comprehended nothing; and for a long
+		time they had seen and comprehended nothing.
+		Yet they dearly loved this Norine, who
+		was the grace, the charm of the house. They
+		dreamed, these good people, of marrying her
+		one of these days to their head-clerk, a widower
+		of prudent and economical habits, and
+		&#8220;all that is necessary to make a woman happy.&#8221;
+		Leon loved her, too, with all his heart;
+		but as a dear, good sister. Nor did the great
+		spoiled boy suspect that Norine loved him,
+		and suffered from her love&#8212;aye, to death
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page195" name="page195"></a>195</span>itself. No; even that evening, when they had
+		unconsciously inflicted upon her the worst
+		of torture, they never suspected the truth;
+		and they would sleep peacefully, indulging
+		in beautiful dreams of the future, at the very
+		hour when, shut in her chamber&#8212;the chamber
+		separated by such a thin partition from
+		that of her adopted parents&#8212;Norine would
+		fall upon her bed, fainting with grief, and
+		bury her head in her pillow to stifle her
+		sobs.</p>
+
+
+
+		<h3>V.</h3>
+
+		<p>The ball is finished; and in the empty
+		rooms the candles, burned to the very end,
+		have broken some of the sconces and the
+		fragments lie upon the waxed floors.</p>
+
+		<p>The Bayards have insisted that the wedding
+		should be celebrated at their house;
+		but by the aid of many flowers (it is midsummer)
+		they have given a holiday appearance
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page196" name="page196"></a>196</span>to the apartment in the Rue Vieille du
+		Temple where they have triumphantly installed
+		their daughter-in-law.</p>
+
+		<p>At last it is finished; the young couple
+		have retired to their nuptial chamber, where
+		Madame Bayard has gone for a moment
+		with them. Coming out she found Norine
+		still in the little salon, helping the servants
+		extinguish the lights. She embraced the
+		young girl tenderly, saying,</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Go to bed, my child. You must be very
+		tired.&#8221; And she added, with a smile, &#8220;Well,
+		it will be your turn before long.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>And Norine was at last alone in the room,
+		now so gloomy, and lighted only by her single
+		candle resting on the piano.</p>
+
+		<p>Heavens! how heavy was the odor of the
+		flowers, and how her head ached.</p>
+
+		<p>Ah, that horrible day! What torment she
+		had endured since the moment when she
+		knelt, impressed into service as a lady&#8217;s-maid,
+		with pins in her lips, at the feet of
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page197" name="page197"></a>197</span>her rival Hortense, and arranged
+		her white satin train,
+		to the hour when Leon,
+		holding his wife by the
+		waist, drew her towards her,
+		Norine, and the lips of the
+		young couple met almost
+		upon her very forehead!<img class="figright" src="images/fig210.jpg" alt="A young woman picks flowers." /></p>
+
+		<p>Oh, the odor of the flowers
+		is insupportable, and she
+		is so giddy and faint.</p>
+
+		<p>She fell upon a sofa, unnerved
+		by a frightful headache,
+		her head thrown back, clasping her
+		forehead with her two hands, but with open
+		eyes staring always at the door&#8212;the door
+		of that chamber which was shut upon the
+		young couple, closed upon the mystery which
+		was breaking her heart. A sort of delirium
+		overwhelmed her. How the heavy perfume
+		of those flowers overpowered her, and how
+		a thousand memories assailed her at once.
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page198" name="page198"></a>198</span>She was a child again in the saloon at Argenteuil,
+		and the kind Parisians came and
+		caressed her. She was embraced by the
+		dear little boy wearing a white plume in his
+		hat. Rapid pictures flashed upon her soul.
+		The <i>pension</i> of the Rue de l&#8217;Homme Armé,
+		and Mademoiselle Merlin, with her knitting-needle
+		stuck in her head-dress, pointed with
+		the end of her stick to the table of weights
+		and measures. The drug-store on Sundays,
+		all dark, the shutters closed, and she playing
+		catch with Leon among the barrels and sacks.</p>
+
+		<p>Good God! was she losing her head? She
+		could not help humming that waltz, during
+		which Leon once held her in his arms. She
+		was stifled. Oh, the flowers! She must go
+		out, or at least open a window. But she
+		could not rise; her strength had deserted
+		her. Could she die thus? Two iron fingers
+		seemed to be pressing her temples. Oh, the
+		roses and the orange-flowers&#8212;those orange-flowers
+		above all!</p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page199" name="page199"></a>199</span>At last she made a great effort. She rose
+		upright and pale&#8212;pale as her white robe.
+		But suddenly her strength left her, and falling
+		first upon her knees, and then with her
+		head and shoulders upon the wood floor,
+		poor Norine lay stretched at the threshold
+		of the bridal chamber, killed by disappointed
+		love and by the flowers.</p>
+
+		<div class="figcenter last_picture">
+			<img src="images/fig212.jpg" alt="A young woman lies on the ground next to a wicker chair." />
+		</div>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum blank_page"><a id="page200" name="page200"></a>200</span></p>
+
+	</div>
+
+	<div id="tale_10" class="tale">
+		<h2 class="tale_title"><span class="pagenum"><a id="page201" name="page201"></a>201</span>MY FRIEND MEURTRIER.</h2>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum blank_page"><a id="page202" name="page202"></a>202</span></p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page203" name="page203"></a>203</span></p>
+		<div class="figcenter first_picture">
+			<img src="images/fig216.jpg" alt="A man walks down a quiet street." title="My Friend Meurtrier" />
+		</div>
+
+		<h3>I.</h3>
+
+		<p>I was at one time employed in a government
+		office. Every day from ten o&#8217;clock
+		until four I became a voluntary prisoner
+		in a depressing office, adorned with yellow
+		pasteboard boxes, and filled with the musty
+		odor of old papers. There I lunched on
+		Italian cheese and apples which I roasted
+		at the grate. I read the morning papers,
+		even to the advertisements; I rhymed verses,
+		and I attended to the affairs of state to the
+		extent of drawing at the end of each month
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page204" name="page204"></a>204</span>a salary which barely kept me from starving.</p>
+
+		<p>I recall to-day one of my companions in
+		captivity at that epoch.</p>
+
+		<p>He was called Achille Meurtrier, and certainly
+		his fierce look and tall form seemed
+		to warrant that name. He was a great big
+		fellow, about forty years old, not too much
+		chest or shoulders, but who increased his
+		apparent size by wearing felt hats with wide
+		brims, ample and short coats, large plaid
+		trousers, and neckties of a sanguine red under
+		rolling collars. He wore a full beard,
+		long hair, and was very proud of his hairy
+		hands.</p>
+
+		<p>The chief boast of Meurtrier, otherwise
+		the best and most amiable of companions,
+		was to trifle with an athletic constitution, to
+		possess the biceps of a prize-fighter, and, as
+		he said himself, not to know his own strength.
+		He never made a gesture, even in the exercise
+		of his peaceful profession, that did not
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page205" name="page205"></a>205</span>have for its object to convince the spectators
+		of his prodigious vigor. Did he have to
+		take from its case a half-empty pasteboard
+		box, he advanced towards the shelf with the
+		heavy step of a street porter, grasped the
+		box solidly with a tight hand, and carried it
+		with a stiff arm as far as the next table, with
+		a shrugging of shoulders and frowning of
+		brow worthy of Milo of Crotona. He carried
+		this manner so far that he never used
+		less apparent effort even to lift the lightest
+		objects, and one day when he held in his
+		right hand a basket of old papers I saw him
+		extend his left arm horizontally as if to make
+		a counterpoise to the tremendous weight.</p>
+
+		<p>I ought to say that this robust creature
+		inspired me with a profound respect, for I
+		was then, even more than to-day, physically
+		weak and delicate, and in consequence filled
+		with admiration for that energetic physique
+		which I lacked.</p>
+
+		<p>The conversations of Meurtrier were not
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page206" name="page206"></a>206</span>of a nature to diminish the admiration with
+		which he inspired me.</p>
+
+		<p>In the summer, above all, on Monday
+		mornings, when we had returned to the office
+		after our Sunday holiday, he had an inexhaustible
+		fund of stories concerning his adventures
+		and feats of strength. After taking
+		off his felt-hat, his coat, and his vest, and
+		wiping the perspiration from his forehead
+		with the sleeve of his shirt, to indicate his
+		sanguine and ardent temperament, he would
+		thrust his hands deep in the pockets of his
+		trousers, and, standing near me in an attitude
+		of perpendicular solidity, begin a monologue
+		something as follows:</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;What a Sunday, my boy! Positively no
+		fatigue can lay me up. Think of it: yesterday
+		was the regatta at Joinville-le-Pont; at
+		six o&#8217;clock in the morning the rendezvous at
+		Bercy, at The Mariners, for the crew of the
+		<i>Marsouin</i>; the sun is up; a glass of white wine
+		and we jump into our rowing suits, seize an
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page207" name="page207"></a>207</span>oar and give way&#8212;one-two, one-two&#8212;as far
+		as Joinville; then overboard for a swim before
+		breakfast&#8212;strip to swimming drawers, a
+		jump overboard, and look out for squalls.
+		After my bath I have the appetite of a tiger.
+		Good! I seize the boat by one hand and I
+		call out, &#8216;Charpentier, pass me a small ham.&#8217;
+		Three motions in one time and I have finished
+		it to the bone. &#8216;Charpentier, pass
+		me the brandy-flask.&#8217; Three swallows and
+		it is empty.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p><img class="figright" src="images/fig220.jpg" alt="A bearded man stands with his hands in his pockets, feet wide apart." />So the description would continue&#8212;dazzling,
+		Homeric.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;It is the hour for the regatta&#8212;noon&#8212;the
+		sun just overhead.
+		The boats draw up in line on
+		the sparkling river, before a tent
+		gaudy with streamers. On the
+		bank the mayor with his staff
+		of office, gendarmes in yellow
+		shoulder-belts, and a swarm of
+		summer dresses, open parasols,
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page208" name="page208"></a>208</span>and straw hats. Bang! the signal-gun is
+		fired. The <i>Marsouin</i> shoots ahead of all
+		her competitors and easily gains the prize&#8212;and
+		no fatigue! We go around Marne,
+		and, returning, dine at Créteil. How cool
+		the evening in the dusky arbor, where pipes
+		glow through the darkness, and moths singe
+		their wings in the flame of the <i>omelette au
+		kirsch</i>. At the end of a dessert, served on
+		decorated plates, we hear from the ball-room
+		the call of the cornet&#8212;&#8216;Take places for the
+		quadrille!&#8217; But already a rival crew, beaten
+		that same morning, has monopolized the
+		prettiest girls. A fight!&#8212;teeth broken, eyes
+		blackened, ugly falls, and whacks below the
+		belt; in a word, a poem of physical enthusiasm,
+		of noisy hilarity, of animal spirits,
+		without speaking of the return at midnight,
+		through crowded stations, with girls whom
+		we lift into the cars, friends separated calling
+		from one end of the train to the other,
+		and fellows playing a horn upon the roof.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page209" name="page209"></a>209</span>And the evenings of my astonishing companion
+		were not less full of adventure than
+		his Sundays. Collar-and-elbow wrestling
+		in a tent, under the red light of torches, between
+		him&#8212;simple amateur&#8212;and Du Bois,
+		the iron man, in person; rat-chases near
+		the mouths of sewers, with dogs as fierce as
+		tigers; sanguinary encounters at night, in
+		the most dangerous quarters, with ruffians
+		and nose-eaters, were the most insignificant
+		episodes of his nightly career. Nor do I
+		dare relate other adventures of a more intimate
+		character, from which, as the writers
+		of an earlier day would say in noble
+		style, a pen the least timorous would recoil
+		with horror.</p>
+
+		<p>However painful it may be to confess an
+		unworthy sentiment, I am obliged to say
+		that my admiration for Meurtrier was not
+		unmixed with regret and bitterness. Perhaps
+		there was mingled with it something
+		of envy. But the recitation of his most marvellous
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page210" name="page210"></a>210</span>exploits had never awakened in me
+		the least feeling of incredulity, and Achille
+		Meurtrier easily took his place in my mind
+		among heroes and demigods, between Roland
+		and Pirithous.</p>
+
+
+
+		<h3>II.</h3>
+
+		<p>At this time I was a great wanderer in
+		the suburbs, and I occupied the leisure of
+		my summer evenings by solitary walks in
+		those distant regions, as unknown to the
+		Parisians of the boulevards as the country
+		of the Caribbees, and of whose sombre
+		charm I endeavored later to tell in verse.</p>
+
+		<p>One evening in July, hot and dusty, at the
+		hour when the first gas-lights were beginning
+		to twinkle in the misty twilight, I was walking
+		slowly from Vaugirard through one of
+		those long and depressing suburban streets
+		lined on each side by houses of unequal
+		height, whose porters and porteresses, in
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page211" name="page211"></a>211</span>shirt sleeves and in calico, sat on the steps
+		and imagined that they were taking the fresh
+		air. Hardly any one passing in the whole
+		street; perhaps, from end to end, a mason,
+		white with plaster, a sergeant-de-ville, a child
+		carrying home a four-pound loaf larger than
+		himself, or a young girl hurrying on in hat
+		and cloak, with a leather bag on her arm;
+		and every quarter-hour the half-empty omnibus
+		coming back to its place of departure
+		with the heavy trot of its tired horses.</p>
+
+		<p>Stumbling now and then on the pavement&#8212;for
+		asphalt is an unknown luxury in these
+		places&#8212;I went down the street, tasting all
+		the delights of a stroller. Sometimes I stopped
+		before a vacant lot to watch, through
+		the broken boards of the fence, the fading
+		glories of the setting sun and the black silhouettes
+		of the chimneys thrown against a
+		greenish sky. Sometimes, through an open
+		window on the ground-floor, I caught sight
+		of an interior, picturesque and familiar: here
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page212" name="page212"></a>212</span>a jolly-looking laundress holding her flat-iron
+		to her cheek; there workmen sitting at tables
+		and smoking in the basement of a cabaret,
+		while an old Bohemian with long gray
+		hair, standing before them, sang something
+		about &#8220;Liberty,&#8221; accompanying himself on
+		a guitar about the color of bouillon&#8212;the
+		scenes of Chardin and Van Ostade.</p>
+
+		<p>Suddenly I stopped.</p>
+
+		<p>One of these personal pictures had caught
+		my eye by its domestic and charming simplicity.</p>
+
+		<p>She looked so happy and peaceful in her
+		quiet little room, the dear old lady in her
+		black gown and widow&#8217;s cap, leaning back
+		in an easy-chair covered with green Utrecht
+		velvet, and sitting quietly with her hands
+		folded on her lap. Everything around her
+		was so old and simple, and seemed to have
+		been preserved, less through a wise economy
+		than on account of hallowed memories, since
+		the honey-moon with monsieur of the high
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page213" name="page213"></a>213</span>complexion, in a frock-coat and flowered
+		waistcoat, whose oval crayon ornamented
+		the wall.</p>
+
+		<div class="figcenter">
+			<img src="images/fig226.jpg" alt="An old woman naps in a chair next to a piano." />
+		</div>
+
+		<p class="continued">By two lamps on the mantle-shelf
+		every detail of the old-fashioned furniture
+		could be distinguished, from the clock on a
+		fish of artificial and painted marble to the
+		old and antiquated piano, on which, without
+		doubt, as a young girl, in leg-of-mutton sleeves
+		and with hair dressed <i>à la Grecque</i>, she had
+		played the airs of Romagnesi.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page214" name="page214"></a>214</span>Certainly a loved and only daughter, remaining
+		unmarried through her affection for
+		her mother, piously watched over the last
+		years of the widow. It was she, I was sure,
+		who had so tenderly placed her dear mother;
+		she who had put the ottoman under her
+		feet, she who had put near her the inlaid table,
+		and arranged on it the waiter and two
+		cups. I expected already to see her coming
+		in carrying the evening coffee&#8212;the sweet,
+		calm girl, who should be dressed in mourning
+		like the widow, and resemble her very much.</p>
+
+		<p>Absorbed by the contemplation of a scene
+		so sympathetic, and by the pleasure of imagining
+		that humble poem, I remained standing
+		some steps from the open window, sure
+		of not being noticed in the dusky street,
+		when I saw a door open and there appeared&#8212;oh,
+		how far he was from my thoughts at
+		that moment&#8212;my friend Meurtrier himself,
+		the formidable hero of tilts on the river and
+		frays in unknown places.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page215" name="page215"></a>215</span>A sudden doubt crossed me. I felt that
+		I was on the point of discovering a mystery.</p>
+
+		<p>It was indeed he. His terrible hairy
+		hand held a tiny silver coffee-pot, and he
+		was followed by a poodle which greatly embarrassed
+		his steps&#8212;a valiant and classic
+		poodle, the poodle of blind clarionet-players,
+		a poor beggar&#8217;s poodle, a poodle clipped like
+		a lion, with hairy ruffles on his four paws,
+		and a white mustache like a general of the
+		Gymnase.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Mamma,&#8221; said the giant, in a tone of ineffable
+		tenderness, &#8220;here is your coffee. I
+		am sure that you will find it nice to-night.
+		The water was boiling well, and I poured it
+		on drop by drop.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Thank you,&#8221; said the old lady, rolling
+		her easy-chair to the table with an air;
+		&#8220;thank you, my little Achille. Your dear
+		father said many a time that there was not
+		my equal at making coffee&#8212;he was so kind
+		and indulgent, the dear, good man&#8212;but I
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page216" name="page216"></a>216</span>begin to believe that you are even better
+		than I.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>At that moment, and while Meurtrier was
+		pouring out the coffee with all the delicacy
+		of a young girl, the poodle, excited no doubt
+		by the uncovered sugar, placed his forepaws
+		on the lap of his mistress.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Down, Médor,&#8221; she cried, with a benevolent
+		indignation. &#8220;Did any one ever see
+		such a troublesome animal? <img class="figleft" src="images/fig229.jpg" alt="A man in an apron pours liquid into a coffee pot." />Look here,
+		sir! you know very well that
+		your master never fails to give
+		you the last of his cup. By-the-way,&#8221;
+		added the widow,
+		addressing her son, &#8220;you have
+		taken the poor fellow out, have
+		you not?&#8221;</p>
+
+
+		<p>&#8220;Certainly, mamma,&#8221; he replied,
+		in a tone that was almost infantile.
+		&#8220;I have just been to the creamery for your
+		morning milk, and I put the leash and collar
+		on Médor and took him with me.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page217" name="page217"></a>217</span>&#8220;And he has attended to all his little
+		wants?&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t be disturbed. He doesn&#8217;t want
+		anything.&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>Reassured on this point, important to canine
+		hygiene, the good dame drank her coffee,
+		between her son and her dog, who each
+		regarded her with an inexpressible tenderness.</p>
+
+		<p>It was assuredly unnecessary to see or
+		hear more. I had already descried what a
+		peaceful family life&#8212;upright, pure, and devoted&#8212;my
+		friend Meurtrier hid under his
+		chimerical gasconades. But the spectacle
+		with which chance had favored me was at
+		once so droll and so touching that I could
+		not resist the temptation to watch for some
+		moments longer. That indiscretion sufficed
+		to show me the whole truth.</p>
+
+		<p>Yes, this type of roisterers, who seemed to
+		have stepped from one of the romances of
+		Paul de Kock&#8212;this athlete, this despot of
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page218" name="page218"></a>218</span>bar-rooms and public-houses&#8212;performed
+		simply and courageously, in these lowly
+		rooms in the suburbs, the sublime duties of
+		a sister of charity. This intrepid oarsman
+		had never made a longer voyage than to
+		conduct his mother to mass or vespers every
+		Sunday. This billiard expert knew only how
+		to play bézique. This trainer of bull-dogs
+		was the submissive slave of a poodle. This
+		Mauvaise-Philibert was an Antigone.</p>
+
+		<h3>III.</h3>
+
+		<p>The next morning, on arriving at the office,
+		I asked Meurtrier how he had employed the
+		previous evening, and he instantly improvised,
+		without a moment&#8217;s hesitation, an account
+		of a sharp encounter on the boulevard
+		at two in the morning, when he had knocked
+		down with a single blow of his fist, having
+		passed his thumb through the ring of his
+		<span class="pagenum"><a id="page219" name="page219"></a>219</span>keys, a terrible street rough. I listened,
+		smiling ironically, and thinking to confound
+		him; but remembering how respectable a
+		virtue is which is hidden even under an absurdity,
+		I struck him amicably on the shoulder,
+		and said, with conviction:</p>
+
+		<p>&#8220;Meurtrier, you are a hero!&#8221;</p>
+
+		<div class="figcenter last_picture">
+			<img src="images/fig232.jpg" alt="A pot on a stove." />
+		</div>
+
+	</div>
+
+	<div id="end_matter">
+		 <!-- a place holder for the closing border -->
+	</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Ten Tales, by François Coppée
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TEN TALES ***
+
+***** This file should be named 20380-h.htm or 20380-h.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/3/8/20380/
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+</body>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Ten Tales, by Francois Coppee
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Ten Tales
+
+Author: Francois Coppee
+
+Contributor: Brander Matthews
+
+Illustrator: Albert E. Sterner
+
+Translator: Warren Walter Learned
+
+Release Date: January 15, 2007 [EBook #20380]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TEN TALES ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: FRANCOIS COPPEE.]
+
+
+
+FROM THE FRENCH
+
+
+
+Ten Tales
+
+
+By
+
+
+Francois Coppee
+
+
+
+_Translated by WALTER LEARNED, with fifty pen-and-ink drawings
+by ALBERT E. STERNER, and an introduction by BRANDER MATTHEWS_
+
+
+NEW YORK
+HARPER & BROTHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE
+1891
+
+
+
+Copyright, 1890, by HARPER & BROTHERS.
+
+_All rights reserved._
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+THE CAPTAIN'S VICES
+
+TWO CLOWNS
+
+A VOLUNTARY DEATH
+
+A DRAMATIC FUNERAL
+
+THE SUBSTITUTE
+
+AT TABLE
+
+AN ACCIDENT
+
+THE SABOTS OF LITTLE WOLFF
+
+THE FOSTER SISTER
+
+MY FRIEND MEURTRIER
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+The _conte_ is a form of fiction in which the French have always
+delighted and in which they have always excelled, from the days of the
+_jongleurs_ and the _trouveres_, past the periods of La Fontaine and
+Voltaire, down to the present. The _conte_ is a tale, something more
+than a sketch, it may be, and something less than a short story. In
+verse it is at times but a mere rhymed anecdote, or it may attain almost
+to the direct swiftness of a ballad. The _Canterbury Tales_ are
+_contes_, most of them, if not all; and so are some of the _Tales of a
+Wayside Inn_. The free-and-easy tales of Prior were written in imitation
+of the French _conte en vers_; and that, likewise, was the model of more
+than one of the lively narrative poems of Mr. Austin Dobson.
+
+No one has succeeded more abundantly in the _conte en vers_ than M.
+Coppee. Where was there ever anything better of its kind than _L'Enfant
+de la Balle?_--that gentle portrait of the Infant Phenomenon, framed in
+a chain of occasional gibes at the sordid ways of theatrical managers
+and at their hostility towards poetic plays. Where is there anything of
+a more simple pathos than _L'Epave?_--that story of a sailor's son whom
+the widowed mother strives vainly to keep from the cruel waves that
+killed his father. (It is worthy of a parenthesis that although the ship
+M. Coppee loves best is that which sails the blue shield of the City of
+Paris, he knows the sea also, and he depicts sailors with affectionate
+fidelity.) But whether at the sea-side by chance, or more often in the
+streets of the city, the poet seeks out for the subject of his story
+some incident of daily occurrence made significant by his
+interpretation; he chooses some character common-place enough, but made
+firmer by conflict with evil and by victory over self. Those whom he
+puts into his poems are still the humble, the forgotten, the neglected,
+the unknown; and it is the feelings and the struggles of these that he
+tells us, with no maudlin sentimentality, and with no dead set at our
+sensibilities. The sub-title Mrs. Stowe gave to _Uncle Tom's Cabin_
+would serve to cover most of M. Coppee's _contes_ either in prose or
+verse; they are nearly all pictures of _life among the lowly_. But there
+is no forcing of the note in his painting of poverty and labor; there is
+no harsh juxtaposition of the blacks and the whites. The tone is always
+manly and wholesome.
+
+_La Marchande de Journaux_ and the other little masterpieces of
+story-telling in verse are unfortunately untranslatable, as are all
+poems but a lyric or two, now and then, by a happy accident. A
+translated poem is a boiled strawberry, as some one once put it
+brutally. But the tales which M. Coppee has written in prose--a true
+poet's prose, nervous, vigorous, flexible, and firm--these can be
+Englished by taking thought and time and pains, without which a
+translation is always a betrayal. Ten of these tales have been rendered
+into English by Mr. Learned; and the ten chosen for translation are
+among the best of the two score and more of M. Coppee's _contes en
+prose_. These ten tales are fairly representative of his range and
+variety. Compare, for example, the passion in "The Foster Sister," pure,
+burning and fatal, with the Black Forest _naivete_ of "The Sabots of
+Little Wolff." Contrast the touching pathos of "The Substitute,"
+poignant in his magnificent self-sacrifice, by which the man who has
+conquered his shameful past goes back willingly to the horrible life he
+has fled from that he may save from a like degradation and from an
+inevitable moral decay the one friend he has in the world, all unworthy
+as this friend is--contrast this with the story of the gigantic deeds
+"My Friend Meurtrier" boasts about unceasingly, not knowing that he has
+been discovered in his little round of daily domestic duties, making the
+coffee of his good old mother and taking her poodle out for a walk.
+
+Among these ten there are tales of all sorts, from the tragic adventure
+of "An Accident" to the pendent portraits of the "Two Clowns," cutting
+in its sarcasm, but not bitter--from "The Captain's Vices," which
+suggests at once George Eliot's _Silas Marner_ and Mr. Austin Dobson's
+_Tale of Polypheme_, to the sombre revery of the poet "At Table," a
+sudden and searching light cast on the labor and misery which underlies
+the luxury of our complex modern existence. Like "At Table," "A Dramatic
+Funeral" is a picture more than it is a story; it is a marvellous
+reproduction of the factitious emotion of the good-natured stage folk,
+who are prone to overact even their own griefs and joys. "A Dramatic
+Funeral" seems to me always as though it might be a painting of M. Jean
+Beraud, that most Parisian of artists, just as certain stories of M. Guy
+de Maupassant inevitably suggest the bold freedom of M. Forain's
+sketches in black-and-white.
+
+An ardent admirer of the author of the stories in _The Odd Number_ has
+protested to me that M. Coppee is not an etcher like M. de Maupassant,
+but rather a painter in water-colors. And why not? Thus might we call M.
+Alphonse Daudet an artist in pastels, so adroitly does he suggest the
+very bloom of color. No doubt M. Coppee's _contes_ have not the
+sharpness of M. de Maupassant's, nor the brilliancy of M. Daudet's--but
+what of it? They have qualities of their own; they have sympathy,
+poetry, and a power of suggesting pictures not exceeded, I think, by
+those of either M. de Maupassant or M. Daudet. M. Coppee's street views
+in Paris, his interiors, his impressionist sketches of life under the
+shadows of Notre Dame, are convincingly successful. They are intensely
+to be enjoyed by those of us who take the same keen delight in the
+varied phases of life in New York. They are not, to my mind, really
+rivalled either by those of M. de Maupassant, who is a Norman by birth
+and a nomad by choice, or by those of M. Daudet, who is a native of
+Provence, although now for thirty years a resident of Paris. M. Coppee
+is a Parisian from his youth up, and even in prose he is a poet; perhaps
+this is why his pictures of Paris are unsurpassable in their felicity
+and in their verity.
+
+It may be fancy, but I seem to see also a finer morality in M. Coppee's
+work than in M. de Maupassant's or in M. Daudet's or in that of almost
+any other of the Parisian story-tellers of to-day. In his tales we
+breathe a purer moral atmosphere, more wholesome and more bracing. It is
+not that M. Coppee probably thinks of ethics rather than aesthetics; in
+this respect his attitude is undoubtedly that of the others; there is no
+sermon in his song--or at least none for those who will not seek it for
+themselves; there is never a hint of a preachment. But for all that I
+have found in his work a trace of the tonic morality which inheres in
+Moliere, for example, also a Parisian by birth, and also in Rabelais,
+despite his disguising grossness. This finer morality comes possibly
+from a wider and a deeper survey of the universe; and it is as different
+as possible from the morality which is externally applied and which
+always punishes the villain in the fifth act.
+
+It is of good augury for our own letters that the best French fiction of
+to-day is getting itself translated in the United States, and that the
+liking for it is growing apace. Fiction is more consciously an art in
+France than anywhere else--perhaps partly because the French are now
+foremost in nearly all forms of artistic endeavor. In the short story
+especially, in the tale, in the _conte_, their supremacy is
+incontestable; and their skill is shown and their aesthetic instinct
+exemplified partly in the sense of form, in the constructive method,
+which underlies the best short stories, however trifling these may
+appear to be, and partly in the rigorous suppression of non-essentials,
+due in a measure, it may be, to the example of Merimee. That is an
+example we in America may study to advantage; and from the men who are
+writing fiction in France we may gain much. From the British fiction of
+this last quarter of the nineteenth century little can be learned by any
+one--less by us Americans in whom the English tradition is still
+dominant. When we look to France for an exemplar we may find a model of
+value, but when we copy an Englishman we are but echoing our own faults.
+"The truth is," said Mr. Lowell in his memorable essay _On a Certain
+Condescension in Foreigners_--"the truth is that we are worth nothing
+except so far as we have disinfected ourselves of Anglicism."
+
+                                                      BRANDER MATTHEWS.
+
+
+
+
+THE CAPTAIN'S VICES.
+
+[Illustration: THE CAPTAIN'S VICES]
+
+
+I.
+
+It is of no importance, the name of the little provincial city where
+Captain Mercadier--twenty-six years of service, twenty-two campaigns,
+and three wounds--installed himself when he was retired on a pension.
+
+It was quite like all those other little villages which solicit without
+obtaining it a branch of the railway; just as if it were not the sole
+dissipation of the natives to go every day, at the same hour, to the
+Place de la Fontaine to see the diligence come in at full gallop, with
+its gay cracking of the whips and clang of bells.
+
+It was a place of three thousand inhabitants--ambitiously denominated
+souls in the statistical tables--and was exceedingly proud of its title
+of chief city of the canton. It had ramparts planted with trees, a
+pretty river with good fishing, a church of the charming epoch of the
+flamboyant Gothic, disgraced by a frightful station of the cross,
+brought directly from the quarter of Saint Sulpice. Every Monday its
+market was gay with great red and blue umbrellas, and countrymen filled
+its streets in carts and carriages. But for the rest of the week it
+retired with delight into that silence and solitude which made it so
+dear to its rustic population. Its streets were paved with
+cobble-stones; through the windows of the ground-floor one could see
+samplers and wax-flowers under glass domes, and, through the gates of
+the gardens, statuettes of Napoleon in shell-work. The principal inn was
+naturally called the Shield of France; and the town-clerk made rhymed
+acrostics for the ladies of society.
+
+Captain Mercadier had chosen that place of retreat for the simple reason
+that he had been born there, and because, in his noisy childhood, he had
+pulled down the signs and plugged up the bell-buttons. He returned there
+to find neither relations, nor friends, nor acquaintances; and the
+recollections of his youth recalled only the angry faces of shop-keepers
+who shook their fists at him from the shop-doors, a catechism which
+threatened him with hell, a school which predicted the scaffold, and,
+finally, his departure for his regiment, hastened by a paternal
+malediction.
+
+For the Captain was not a saintly man; the old record of his punishment
+was black with days in the guard-house inflicted for breaches of
+discipline, absences from roll-calls, and nocturnal uproars in the
+mess-room. He had often narrowly escaped losing his stripes as a
+corporal or a sergeant, and he needed all the chance, all the license of
+a campaigning life to gain his first epaulet. Firm and brave soldier, he
+had passed almost all his life in Algiers at that time when our foot
+soldiers wore the high shako, white shoulder-belts and huge
+cartridge-boxes. He had had Lamoriciere for commander. The Due de
+Nemours, near whom he received his first wound, had decorated him, and
+when he was sergeant-major, Pere Bugrand had called him by his name and
+pulled his ears. He had been a prisoner of Abd-el-Kader, bearing the
+scar of a yataghan stroke on his neck, of one ball in his shoulder and
+another in his chest; and notwithstanding absinthe, duels, debts of
+play, and almond-eyed Jewesses, he fairly won, with the point of the
+bayonet and sabre, his grade of captain in the First Regiment of
+Sharp-shooters.
+
+Captain Mercadier--twenty-six years of service, twenty-two campaigns,
+and three wounds--had just retired on his pension, not quite two
+thousand francs, which, joined to the two hundred and fifty francs from
+his cross, placed him in that estate of honorable penury which the State
+reserves for its old servants.
+
+His entry into his natal city was without ostentation. He arrived one
+morning on the imperiale of the diligence, chewing an extinguished
+cigar, and already on good terms with the conductor, to whom, during his
+journey, he had related the passage of the Porte de Fer; full of
+indulgence, moreover, for the distractions of his auditor, who often
+interrupted the recital by some oath or epithet addressed to the off
+mare. When the diligence stopped he threw on the sidewalk his old
+valise, covered with railway placards as numerous as the changes of
+garrison that its proprietor had made, and the idlers of the
+neighborhood were astonished to see a man with a decoration--a rare
+thing in the province--offer a glass of wine to the coachman at the bar
+of an inn near by.
+
+He installed himself at once. In a house in the outskirts, where two
+captive cows lowed, and fowls and ducks passed and repassed through the
+gate-way, a furnished chamber was to let. Preceded by a
+masculine-looking woman, the Captain climbed the stair-way with its
+great wooden balusters, perfumed by a strong odor of the stable, and
+reached a great tiled room, whose walls were covered with a bizarre
+paper representing, printed in blue on a white background and repeated
+infinitely, the picture of Joseph Poniatowski crossing the Elster on his
+horse. This monotonous decoration, recalling nevertheless our military
+glories, fascinated the Captain without doubt, for, without concerning
+himself with the uncomfortable straw chairs, the walnut furniture, or
+the little bed with its yellowed curtain, he took the room without
+hesitation. A quarter of an hour was enough to empty his trunk, hang up
+his clothes, put his boots in a corner, and ornament the wall with a
+trophy composed of three pipes, a sabre, and a pair of pistols. After a
+visit to the grocer's, over the way, where he bought a pound of candles
+and a bottle of rum, he returned, put his purchase on the mantle-shelf,
+and looked around him with an air of perfect satisfaction. And then,
+with the promptitude of the camp, he shaved without a mirror, brushed
+his coat, cocked his hat over his ear, and went for a walk in the
+village in search of a cafe.
+
+
+II.
+
+It was an inveterate habit of the Captain to spend much of his time at a
+cafe. It was there that he satisfied at the same time the three vices
+which reigned supreme in his heart--tobacco, absinthe, and cards. It was
+thus that he passed his life, and he could have drawn a plan of all the
+places where he had ever been stationed by their tobacco shops, cafes,
+and military clubs. He never felt himself so thoroughly at ease as when
+sitting on a worn velvet bench before a square of green cloth near a
+heap of beer-mugs and saucers. His cigar never seemed good unless he
+struck his match under the marble of the table, and he never failed,
+after hanging his hat and his sabre on a hat-hook and settling himself
+comfortably, by unloosing one or two buttons of his coat, to breathe a
+profound sigh of relief, and exclaim,
+
+"That is better!"
+
+His first care was, therefore, to find an establishment which he could
+frequent, and after having gone around the village without finding
+anything that suited him, he stopped at last to regard with the eye of a
+connoisseur the Cafe Prosper, situated at the corner of the Place du
+Marche and the Rue de la Pavoisse.
+
+It was not his ideal. Some of the details of the exterior were too
+provincial: the waiter, in his black apron, for example, the little
+stands in their green frames, the footstools, and the wooden tables
+covered with waxed cloth. But the interior pleased the Captain. He was
+delighted upon his entrance by the sound of the bell which was touched
+by the fair and fleshy dame du comptoir, in her light dress, with a
+poppy-colored ribbon in her sleek hair. He saluted her gallantly, and
+believed that she sustained with sufficient majesty her triumphal place
+between two piles of punch-bowls properly crowned by billiard-balls. He
+ascertained that the place was cheerful, neat, and strewn evenly with
+yellow sand. He walked around it, looking at himself in the glasses as
+he passed; approved the panels where guardsmen and amazons were drinking
+champagne in a landscape filled with red holly-hocks; called for his
+absinthe, smoked, found the divan soft and the absinthe good, and was
+indulgent enough not to complain of the flies who bathed themselves in
+his glass with true rustic familiarity.
+
+Eight days later he had become one of the pillars of the Cafe Prosper.
+
+They soon learned his punctual habits and anticipated his wishes, while
+he, in turn, lunched with the patrons of the place--a valuable recruit
+for those who haunted the cafe, folks oppressed by the tedium of a
+country life, for whom the arrival of that new-comer, past master in all
+games, and an admirable raconteur of his wars and his loves, was a true
+stroke of good-fortune. The Captain himself was delighted to tell his
+stories to folks who were still ignorant of his repertoire. There were
+fully six months before him in which to tell of his games, his feats,
+his battles, the retreat of Constantine, the capture of Bou-Maza, and
+the officers' receptions with the concomitant intoxication of rum-punch.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Human weakness! He was by no means sorry, on his part, to be something
+of an oracle; he from whom the sub-lieutenants, new-comers at Saint-Cyr,
+fled dismayed, fearing his long stories.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+His usual auditors were the keeper of the cafe, a stupid and silent
+beer-cask, always in his sleeved vest, and remarkable only for his
+carved pipe; the bailiff, a scoffer, dressed invariably in black,
+scorned for his inelegant habit of carrying off what remained of his
+sugar; the town-clerk, the gentleman of acrostics, a person of much
+amiability and a feeble constitution, who sent to the illustrated
+journals solutions of enigmas and rebuses; and, lastly, the veterinary
+surgeon of the place, the only one who, from his position of atheist and
+democrat, was allowed to contradict the Captain. This practitioner, a
+man with tufted whiskers and eye-glasses, presided over the radical
+committee of electors, and when the cure took up a little collection
+among his devotees for the purpose of adorning his church with some
+frightful red and gilded statues, denounced, in a letter to the
+_Siecle_, the cupidity of the Jesuits.
+
+The Captain having gone out one evening for some cigars after an
+animated political discussion, the aforesaid veterinary grumbled to
+himself certain phrases of heavy irritation concerning "coming to the
+point," and "a mere fencing-master," and "cutting a figure." But as the
+object of these vague menaces suddenly returned, whistling a march and
+beating time with his cane, the incident was without result.
+
+In short, the group lived harmoniously together, and willingly permitted
+themselves to be presided over by the new-comer, whose white beard and
+martial bearing were quite impressive. And the small city, proud of so
+many things, was also proud of its retired Captain.
+
+
+III.
+
+Perfect happiness exists nowhere, and Captain Mercadier, who believed
+that he had found it at the Cafe Prosper, soon recovered from his
+illusion.
+
+For one thing, on Mondays, the market-day, the Cafe Prosper was
+untenantable.
+
+From early morning it was overrun with truck-peddlers, farmers, and
+poultrymen. Heavy men with coarse voices, red necks, and great whips in
+their hands, wearing blue blouses and otter-skin caps, bargaining over
+their cups, stamping their feet, striking their fists, familiar with the
+servant, and bungling at billiards.
+
+When the Captain came, at eleven o'clock, for his first glass of
+absinthe, he found this crowd gathered, and already half-drunk, ordering
+a quantity of lunches. His usual place was taken, and he was served
+slowly and badly. The bell was continually sounding, and the proprietor
+and the waiter, with napkins under their arms, were running distractedly
+hither and thither. In short, it was an ill-omened day, which upset his
+entire existence.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Now, one Monday morning, when he was resting quietly at home, being sure
+that the cafe would be much too full and busy, the mild radiance of the
+autumn sun persuaded him to go down and sit upon the stone seat by the
+side of the house. He was sitting there, depressed and smoking a damp
+cigar, when he saw coming down the end of the street--it was a badly
+paved lane leading out into the country--a little girl of eight or ten,
+driving before her a half-dozen geese.
+
+As the Captain looked carelessly at the child he saw that she had a
+wooden leg.
+
+There was nothing paternal in the heart of the soldier. It was that of a
+hardened bachelor. In former days, in the streets of Algiers, when the
+little begging Arabs pursued him with their importunate prayers, the
+Captain had often chased them away with blows from his whip; and on
+those rare occasions when he had penetrated the nomadic household of
+some comrade who was married and the father of a family, he had gone
+away cursing the crying babies and awkward children who had touched with
+their greasy hands the gilding on his uniform.
+
+But the sight of that particular infirmity, which recalled to him the
+sad spectacle of wounds and amputations, touched, on that account, the
+old soldier. He felt almost a constriction of the heart at the sight of
+that sorry creature, half-clothed in her tattered petticoats and old
+chemise, bravely running along behind her geese, her bare foot in the
+dust, and limping on her ill-made wooden stump.
+
+The geese, recognizing their home, turned into the poultry-yard, and the
+little one was about to follow them when the Captain stopped her with
+this question:
+
+"Eh! little girl, what's your name?"
+
+"Pierette, monsieur, at your service," she answered, looking at him with
+her great black eyes, and pushing her disordered locks from her
+forehead.
+
+"You live in this house, then? I haven't seen you before."
+
+"Yes, I know you pretty well, though, for I sleep under the stairs, and
+you wake me up every evening when you come home."
+
+"Is that so, my girl? Ah, well, I must walk on my toes in future. How
+old are you?"
+
+"Nine, monsieur, come All-Saints day."
+
+"Is the landlady here a relative of yours?"
+
+"No, monsieur, I am in service."
+
+"And they give you?"
+
+"Soup, and a bed under the stairs."
+
+"And how came you to be lame like that, my poor little one?"
+
+"By the kick of a cow when I was five."
+
+"Have you a father or mother?"
+
+The child blushed under her sunburned skin. "I came from the Foundling
+Hospital," she said, briefly. Then, with an awkward courtesy, she passed
+limping into the house, and the Captain heard, as she went away on the
+pavement of the court, the hard sound of the little wooden leg.
+
+Good heavens! he thought, mechanically walking towards his cafe, that's
+not at all the thing. A soldier, at least, they pack off to the
+Invalides, with the money from his medal to keep him in tobacco. For an
+officer, they fix up a collectorship, and he marries somewhere in the
+provinces. But this poor girl, with such an infirmity,--that's not at
+all the thing!
+
+Having established in these terms the injustice of fate, the Captain
+reached the threshold of his dear cafe, but he saw there such a mob of
+blue blouses, he heard such a din of laughter and click of
+billiard-balls, that he returned home in very bad humor.
+
+His room--it was, perhaps, the first time that he had spent in it
+several hours of the day--looked rather shabby. His bed-curtains were
+the color of an old pipe. The fireplace was heaped with old
+cigar-stumps, and one could have written his name in the dust on the
+furniture. He contemplated for some time the walls where the sublime
+lancer of Leipsic rode a hundred times to a glorious death. Then, for an
+occupation, he passed his wardrobe in review. It was a lamentable series
+of bottomless pockets, socks full of holes, and shirts without buttons.
+
+"I must have a servant," he said.
+
+Then he thought of the little lame girl.
+
+"That's what I'll do. I'll hire the next little room; winter is coming,
+and the little thing will freeze under the stairs. She will look after
+my clothes and my linen and keep the barracks clean. A valet, how's
+that?"
+
+But a cloud darkened the comfortable picture. The Captain remembered
+that quarter-day was still a long way off, and that his account at the
+Cafe Prosper was assuming alarming proportions.
+
+"Not rich enough," he said to himself. "And in the mean time they are
+robbing me down there. That is positive. The board is too high, and that
+wretch of a veterinary plays bezique much too well. I have paid his way
+now for eight days. Who knows? Perhaps I had better put the little one
+in charge of the mess, soup au cafe in the morning, stew at noon, and
+ragout every evening--campaign life, in fact. I know all about that.
+Quite the thing to try."
+
+Going out he saw at once the mistress of the house, a great brutal
+peasant, and the little lame girl, who both, with pitchforks in their
+hands, were turning over the dung-heap in the yard.
+
+"Does she know how to sew, to wash, to make soup?" he asked, brusquely.
+
+"Who--Pierette? Why?"
+
+"Does she know a little of all that?"
+
+"Of course. She came from an asylum where they learn how to take care of
+themselves."
+
+"Tell me, little one," added the Captain, speaking to the child, "I am
+not scaring you--no? Well, my good woman, will you let me have her? I
+want a servant."
+
+"If you will support her."
+
+"Then that is finished. Here are twenty francs. Let her have to-night a
+dress and a shoe. To-morrow we'll arrange the rest."
+
+And, with a friendly tap on Pierette's cheek, the Captain went off,
+delighted that everything was concluded. Possibly he thought he would
+have to cut off some glasses of beer and absinthe, and be cautious of
+the veterinary's skill at bezique. But that was not worth speaking of,
+and the new arrangement would be quite the thing.
+
+
+IV.
+
+Captain, you are a coward!
+
+Such was the apostrophe with which the caryatides of the Cafe Prosper
+hereafter greeted the Captain, whose visits became rarer day by day.
+
+For the poor man had not seen all the consequences of his good action.
+The suppression of his morning absinthe had been sufficient to cover the
+modest expense of Pierette's keeping, but how many other reforms were
+needed to provide for the unforeseen expenses of his bachelor
+establishment! Full of gratitude, the little girl wished to prove it by
+her zeal. Already the aspect of his room was changed. The furniture was
+dusted and arranged, the fireplace cleaned, the floor polished, and
+spiders no longer spun their webs over the deaths of Poniatowski in the
+corner. When the Captain came home the inviting odor of cabbage-soup
+saluted him on the staircase, and the sight of the smoking plates on the
+coarse but white table-cloth, with a bunch of flowers and polished
+table-ware, was quite enough to give him a good appetite. Pierette
+profited by the good-humor of her master to confess some of her secret
+ambitions. She wanted andirons for the fireplace, where there was now
+always a fire burning, and a mould for the little cakes that she knew
+how to make so well. And the Captain, smiling at the child's requests,
+but charmed with the homelike atmosphere of his room, promised to think
+of it, and on the morrow replaced his Londres by cigars for a sou each,
+hesitated to offer five points at ecarte, and refused his third glass
+of beer or his second glass of chartreuse.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Certainly the struggle was long; it was cruel. Often, when the hour came
+for the glass that was denied him by economy, when thirst seized him by
+the throat, the Captain was forced to make an heroic effort to withdraw
+his hand already reaching out towards the swan's beak of the cafe; many
+times he wandered about, dreaming of the king turned up and of quint and
+quatorze. But he almost always courageously returned home; and as he
+loved Pierette more through every sacrifice that he made for her, he
+embraced her more fondly every day. For he did embrace her. She was no
+longer his servant. When once she stood before him at the table, calling
+him "Monsieur," and so respectful in her bearing, he could not stand it,
+but seizing her by her two hands, he said to her, eagerly:
+
+"First embrace me, and then sit down and do me the pleasure of speaking
+familiarly, confound it!"
+
+And so to-day it is accomplished. Meeting a child has saved that man
+from an ignominious age.
+
+He has substituted for his old vices a young passion. He adores the
+little lame girl who skips around him in his room, which is comfortable
+and well furnished.
+
+He has already taught Pierette to read, and, moreover, recalling his
+calligraphy as a sergeant-major, he has set her copies in writing. It is
+his greatest joy when the child, bending attentively over her paper, and
+sometimes making a blot which she quickly licks up with her tongue, has
+succeeded in copying all the letters of an interminable adverb in
+_ment_. His uneasiness is in thinking that he is growing old and has
+nothing to leave his adopted child.
+
+And so he becomes almost a miser; he theorizes; he wishes to give up his
+tobacco, although Pierette herself fills and lights his pipe for him. He
+counts on saving from his slender income enough to purchase a little
+stock of fancy goods. Then when he is dead she can live an obscure and
+tranquil life, hanging up somewhere in the back room of the small shop
+an old cross of the Legion of Honor, her souvenir of the Captain.
+
+Every day he goes to walk with her on the rampart. Sometimes they are
+passed by folks who are strangers in the village, who look with
+compassionate surprise at the old soldier, spared from the wars, and the
+poor lame child. And he is moved--oh, so pleasantly, almost to
+tears--when one of the passers-by whispers, as they pass:
+
+"Poor father! Yet how pretty his daughter is."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+TWO CLOWNS.
+
+[Illustration: TWO CLOWNS]
+
+
+The night was clear and glittering with stars, and there was a crowd
+upon the market-place. They crowded in gaping delight around the tent of
+some strolling acrobats, where red and smoking lanterns lighted the
+performance which was just beginning. Rolling their muscular limbs in
+dirty wraps, and decorated from head to foot with tawdry ruffles of fur,
+the athletes--four boyish ruffians with vulgar heads--were ranged in
+line before the painted canvas which represented their exploits; they
+stood there with their heads down, their legs apart, and their muscular
+arms crossed upon their chests. Near them the marshal of the
+establishment, an old sub-officer, with the drooping mustache of a
+brandy-drinker, belted in at the waist, a heart of red cloth on his
+leather breastplate, leaned on a pair of foils. The feminine attraction,
+a rose in her hair, with a man's overcoat protecting her against the
+freshness of the evening air over her ballet-dancer's dress, played at
+the same time the cymbals and the big bass-drum a desperate
+accompaniment to three measures of a polka, always the same, which were
+murdered by a blind clarionet player; and the ringmaster, a sort of
+Hercules with the face of a galley-slave, a Silenus in scarlet drawers,
+roared out his furious appeal in a loud voice. Mixed with the crowd of
+loafers, soldiers, and women, I regarded the abject spectacle with
+disgust--the last vestige of the olympic games.
+
+Suddenly the music ceased, and the crowd broke into roars of laughter.
+The clown had just made his appearance.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+He wore the ordinary costume of his kind, the short vest and
+many-colored stockings of the peasants of the opera comique, the three
+horns turned backward, the red wig with its turned-up queue and its
+butterfly on the end. He was a young man, but alas, his face, whitened
+with flour, was already seamed with vice. Planting himself before the
+public, and opening his mouth in a silly grin, he showed bleeding gums
+almost devoid of teeth. The ringmaster kicked him violently from behind.
+
+"Come in," he said, tranquilly.
+
+Then the traditional dialogue, punctuated by slaps in the face, began
+between the mountebank and his clown, and the entire audience applauded
+these souvenirs of the classic farce, fallen from the theatre to the
+stage of the mountebank, and whose humor, coarse but pungent, seemed a
+drunken echo of the laughter of Moliere. The clown exerted his low
+talent, throwing out at each moment some low jest, some immodest pun, to
+which his master, simulating a prudish indignation, responded by thumps
+on the head. But the adroit clown excelled in the art of receiving
+affronts. He knew to perfection how to bend his body like a bow under
+the impulse of a kick, and having received on one cheek a full-armed
+blow, he stuffed his tongue at once in that cheek and began to whine
+until a new blow passed the artificial swelling into the other cheek.
+Blows showered on him as thick as hail, and, disappearing under a shower
+of slaps, the flour on his face and the red powder of his wig enveloped
+him like a cloud. At last he exhausted all his resources of low
+scurrility, ridiculous contortions, grotesque grimaces, pretended aches,
+falls at full length, etc., till the ringmaster, judging this gratuitous
+show long enough, and that the public were sufficiently fascinated, sent
+him off with a final cuff.
+
+Then the music began again with such violence that the painted canvas
+trembled. The clown, having seized the sticks of a drum fixed on one of
+the beams of the scaffolding, mingled a triumphant rataplan with the
+bombardment of the bass-drum, the cracked thunder of the cymbals, and
+the distracted wail of the clarionet. The ringmaster, roaring again with
+his heavy voice, announced that the show was about to begin, and, as a
+sign of defiance, he threw two or three old fencing-gloves among his
+fellow-wrestlers. The crowd rushed into the tent, and soon only a small
+group of loungers remained in front of the deserted stage.
+
+I was just going off, when I noticed by my side an old woman who looked
+with strange persistence at the empty stage where the red lights were
+still burning. She wore the linen bonnet and the crossed fichu of the
+poorer class of women, and her whole appearance was that of neatness and
+honesty. Asking myself what powerful interest could hold her in such a
+place, I looked at her with more attention, and I saw that her eyes were
+full of tears, and that her hands, which she had crossed over her
+breast, were trembling with emotion.
+
+"What is the matter with you?" I said, coming near to her, impelled by
+an instinctive sympathy.
+
+"The matter, good sir?" cried the old woman, bursting into tears.
+"Passing by this market-place--oh, quite by chance, I tell you (I have
+no heart for pleasure)--passing before that dreadful tent, I have just
+seen in the wretch who has received all those blows my only son, sir, my
+sole child! It is the grief of my life, do you see? I never knew what
+had become of him since--oh, since my poor husband sent him away to sea
+as a cabin-boy. He was apprenticed to an ironmonger, sir. He robbed his
+master--he, the son of two honest people. As for me, I would have
+pardoned him. You know what mothers are. But my man, when they came and
+told him that his son had stolen, he was like a madman. It was that that
+killed him, I am sure. I have never seen the unhappy child again. For
+five years I have heard nothing from him. I sought to deceive myself. I
+said experience will reform him, and there--there--just now--"
+
+And the poor old woman sobbed in a pitiful way. A crowd had formed. It
+was no longer to me that she spoke; it was not to the crowd; it was to
+herself, to the bitterness of her own heart.
+
+"He, my Adrien, the child that I nourished at my own breast, a
+mountebank in a travelling theatre! struck and insulted before the whole
+world! He, whom I saved at four when he was so ill, a clown in a tent!
+He, the beautiful baby of whom I was so proud, whom I made the neighbors
+admire when he was so small that he rolled naked on my knee, holding his
+little foot in his hand!"
+
+Suddenly at this point in her heart-breaking monologue the old woman
+perceived the crowd listening to her. She looked on the spectators in
+astonishment, as one who starts from sleep. She recognized me who had
+questioned her, and became frightfully pale.
+
+"What have I said?" she stammered. "Let me pass." And brusquely putting
+us aside with an imperious gesture, she went off with a rapid step, and
+disappeared in the night.
+
+The adventure made a lively impression on me. I thought often of it, and
+after that, when I saw before my eyes some wretched and degraded
+creature, some woman of the street, trailing her light silk skirts in
+the flare of a gas-jet, some drunken idler leaning on the bar of a cafe
+and bending his bloated face over his glass of absinthe, I have thought,
+"Is it possible that that being can ever have been a little child?"
+
+Now, some little time after that _rencontre_--let us be careful not to
+indicate the date--I was taken into a gallery of the Chamber of Deputies
+to be present at a sensational sitting. The law that they were
+discussing on that day is of no importance, but it was the old and
+tedious story: a Ministerial candidate, formerly in the Opposition,
+proposed to strike a blow at some liberty--I don't know what--which he
+had formerly demanded with virulence and force. And, more than that, the
+man in power was going to forfeit his word to the tribune. In good
+French that is called "to betray," but in parliamentary language they
+employ the phrase, "accomplish a change of base." Opinion was divided,
+the majority uncertain; and upon his speech would depend the political
+future of the speaker. Therefore, on that day, the legislators were in
+their places, and the Chamber did not resemble, as usual, a class of
+noisy boys presided over by a master without authority. The
+lunch-counter was deserted, and the deputies of the Centre themselves
+were not absorbed in their personal correspondence.
+
+The orator mounted the tribune. He had the commonplace figure of a
+verbose orator: bold eye, protruding lips, as enlarged by the abuse of
+words. He began by fingering his notes with an important air, tasting
+the glass of sweetened water, and settling himself in his place; then he
+started a babble of words without sense, with the nauseous facility of
+the bar; misusing vague ideas, abstract terms, and words in _ly_ and
+_ion_, stereotyped words, and ready-made phrases. A flattering murmur
+greeted the end of his exordium; for the French people in general, and
+the political world in particular, manifest a depraved taste for that
+sort of eloquence. Encouraged, the fine speaker entered the heart of his
+subject, and cynically sang his recantation. He abjured none of his
+opinions, he repudiated none of his acts; he would always remain liberal
+(a blow on his chest), but that which was good yesterday might be
+dangerous to-day; truth on the other side of the Alps, error on this
+side. The forbearance of the Government was abused. And he threatened
+the assembly; became prophet; let loose the dogs of war. He even risked
+a bit of poetry, flourished old metaphors, which were worn out in the
+time of Cicero, and compared by turn, in the same phrase, his political
+career to a pilot, a steed, and a torch. So much poetry could only
+accentuate his success. There was a salvo of bravos, and the Opposition
+grumbled, foreseeing their defeat. Violent interruptions broke forth:
+furious voices recalled the orator's past life, and threw as insults his
+former professions in his face. He was unmoved, and stood with a
+disdainful air, which was very effective. Then the bravos redoubled, and
+he smiled vaguely, thinking, no doubt, of the proof-sheets of the
+_Officiel_, where he could by-and-by insert in the margin, without too
+much exaggeration, "profound sensation" and "prolonged applause." Then,
+when quiet was re-established, sure of his success, he affected a serene
+majesty. He took up again his discourse, soaring like a goose, launching
+out with high doctrine, citing Royer-Collard.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+But I heard no more. The scandalous spectacle of that political
+mountebank, who sacrificed eternal principles to the interests of the
+day, recalled to my memory the tent of the acrobats. The cold rhetoric
+of that harangue, vibrating with neither truth nor emotion, recalled to
+me the patter, learned by heart, of the powdered clown on the stage. The
+superb air which the orator assumed under the rain of reproaches and
+insults singularly resembled the indifference of the clown to the loud
+slaps on his face. Those sonorous phrases, whose echoes had just died
+away, sounded as false as a strolling band. The word "liberty" rolled
+like the bass-drum, "public interests" and "welfare of the State"
+clanged discordantly like the cymbals, and when the comedian spoke of
+his "patriotism" I almost heard the _couac_ of a clarionet.
+
+A long uproar woke me from my revery. The speech was finished, and the
+orator, having descended from the rostrum, was receiving
+congratulations. They were about to vote: the urns were being passed
+around, but the result was certain, and the crowd of tribunes was
+already dispersing.
+
+As I went across the vestibule I saw an elderly lady dressed in black.
+She was dressed like a wealthy bourgeoise and appeared radiant. I
+stopped one of the well-groomed little chaps whom one sees trotting
+around in the Ministerial corridors. I knew him slightly, and I asked
+him who that lady was.
+
+"The mother of the orator," he replied, with official emotion. "She must
+be very proud."
+
+Very proud! The old mother who wept so bitterly in the market-place was
+not that; and if the mother of his future Excellency had reflected, she
+would have regretted--she too--the time when her boy was very small, and
+rolled naked on her knee, holding his little foot in his hand.
+
+But, bah! everything is relative, even shame.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+A VOLUNTARY DEATH.
+
+[Illustration: A VOLUNTARY DEATH]
+
+
+I knew the poet Louis Miraz very well, in the old times in the Latin
+Quarter, where we used to take our meals together at a cremerie on the
+Rue de Seine, kept by an old Polish woman whom we nicknamed the Princess
+Chocolawska, on account of the enormous bowl of creme and chocolate
+which she exposed daily in the show-window of her shop. It was possible
+to dine there for ten sous, with "two breads," an "ordinaire for thirty
+centimes," and a "small coffee."
+
+Some who were very nice spent a sou more for a napkin.
+
+Besides some young men who were destined to become geniuses, the
+ordinary guests of the cremerie were some poor compatriots of the
+proprietress, who had all to some extent commanded armies. There was,
+above all, an imposing and melancholy old fellow with a white beard,
+whose old befrogged cloak, shabby boots, and old hat, which looked as if
+snails had crawled over it, presented a poem of misery, and whom the
+other Poles treated with a marked respect, for he had been a dictator
+for three days.
+
+It was, moreover, at the Princess Chocolawska's that I knew a singular
+fool, who gained his bread by giving German lessons, and declared
+himself a convert to Buddhism. On the mantle of the miserable room,
+where he lived with a milliner of Saint-Germain, was enthroned an ugly
+little Buddha in jade, fixing his hypnotized eyes on his navel, and
+holding his great toes in his hands. The German professor accorded to
+the idol the most profound veneration, but on the epoch of quarter-day
+he was sometimes forced to carry him to the Mont-de-piete, upon which
+he fell into a state of sombre chagrin, and did not recover his serenity
+until he was able to make amends for his impious act. He never failed,
+moreover, to renew his avowals in prosperous times, and finally to take
+his god out of pawn.
+
+As to Louis Miraz, he had the deep eyes, the pale complexion, and the
+long and dishevelled hair of all those young men who come to town in
+third-class carriages to conquer glory, who spend more for midnight oil
+than for beefsteaks, and who, rich already with some manuscripts, have
+thrown out to great Paris from the height of some hill in its environs
+the classic defiance of Rastignac. At that time my hair was archaic
+enough in length to grease the collar of my coat. Thus we were made to
+understand each other, and Louis Miraz soon took me to his attic-room in
+the Rue des Quatre-Vents, where he dragged two thousand alexandrines
+over me.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Seriously, they were fresh and charming verses, with the inspiration of
+spring-tide, having the perfume of the first lilacs, and _Forest Birds_
+(the title of that collection of poems which Louis Miraz published a
+little while after he read them to me) will retain a place among the
+volumes in the first rank of belles-lettres, by the side of those poets
+of a single book--of the Daudet of the Amoureuses, for example.
+
+For Miraz wrote no more verse. A young eaglet seeking the upper air, he
+made his eyrie on the summit of Montmartre, and for quite a while we
+lost sight of him. Then I found his name again in Sunday journals and
+reviews, when he began to write those short and exquisite sketches which
+have made his reputation. Thus five years passed, when I met him one day
+in the editor's office of a journal for which I worked.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Each of us was as much pleased as the other at thus meeting again; and
+after the first "What, is that you? Is that you?" we stood facing each
+other, shaking hands, and exposing, in a laugh of cordial delight, our
+teeth, which in old times we used to exercise on the same crust of
+poverty. He had not changed. He had not even sacrificed his long hair,
+which he threw back with the graceful movement of a horse who tosses his
+mane. Only he had the clear complexion and calm eye of a contented man,
+and his slim figure was clad in most fashionable costume.
+
+"We won't drift apart again, will we?" said he, affectionately, taking
+me by the arm; and he led me out in the boulevard, where the April sun
+gilded the young leaves of the plane-trees.
+
+Ah, happy day! How we exhausted the "Don't you remembers?" "Do you
+remember the fried eggs which tasted of straw, and the dreadful
+rice-milk of the Princess Chocolawska? and the melancholy air of the old
+dictator? and the German who used to pawn his god every three months?"
+At last those days of hardship were finished. He had from afar applauded
+my success, as I had watched his. But one thing I did not know, and that
+was that he had married a woman whom he adored, and that he had a
+charming little girl.
+
+"Come and see them; you shall dine with me."
+
+I let myself be persuaded, and he carried me down to the Enclos des
+Ternes, where he lived in a cottage among the trees. There everything
+made you welcome. No sooner had we opened the door of the garden than a
+young dog frisked about our feet.
+
+"Down, Gavroche! He will soil your clothes."
+
+But at the sound of the bell Madame Miraz appeared at the steps with her
+little daughter in her arms. An imposing and beautiful blond, her
+well-moulded figure wrapped in a blue gown.
+
+"Put on a plate more. I've an old comrade with me."
+
+And the happy father, keeping his hat on his head and carrying his
+little girl, showed me all over his establishment--the dining-room,
+brightened by light bits of faience, the study, abounding in books, with
+its window opening out on the green turf, so that a puff of wind had
+strewn with rose-leaves the printer's proofs which were scattered on the
+table.
+
+"This is only a beginning, you know. It wasn't so long ago that we were
+working for three sous a line."
+
+And while I luxuriated under a blossoming Judas-tree which I saw in the
+garden, Miraz, at ease in his home, had slipped into his working-vest,
+put on his slippers, and, lying on his sofa, caught little Helen in his
+arms to toss her in the air--"Houp la! Houp la!"
+
+I do not remember ever to have had a more perfect impression of
+contentment. We dined pleasantly--two good courses, that was all; a
+dinner without pretence, where we served ourselves with the pepper-mill.
+The charming Madame Miraz presided with her bright smile, having her
+child by her side in a high-chair. She spoke but little, but her sweet
+and intelligent attention followed our light and paradoxical chat, the
+good-humored fooling of men of letters; and at the dessert she took a
+rose from the bouquet which ornamented the table, and placed it in her
+hair near her ear with a supreme grace. She was indeed that lovely and
+silent friend whom a dreamer requires.
+
+We took our coffee in the study--they intended to furnish the salon very
+soon with the price of a story to be published by Levy--then, as the
+evening was cool, a fire of sticks and twigs was built, and while we
+smoked, Miraz and I, recalling old memories, the mistress of the house,
+holding on her knees little Helen, now ready for bed, made her repeat
+"Our Father" and "Hail Mary," which the little one lisped, rubbing her
+little feet together before the warm flame.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+We saw each other again, often at first, then less frequently, the
+difficult and complicated life of literary labor taking us each his own
+way. So the years passed. We met, shook hands. "Everything going well?"
+"Splendidly." And that was all. Then, later, I found the name of Louis
+Miraz but rarely in the journals and periodicals. "Happy man; he is
+resting," I said to myself, remembering that he was spoken of as having
+made a small fortune. Finally, last autumn, I learned that he was
+seriously ill.
+
+I hurried to see him. He still lived at the Enclos des Ternes; but on
+this sombre day of the last of November the little house seemed cold,
+and looked naked among the leafless trees. It seemed to me shrunken and
+diminished, like everything that we have not seen for a long time.
+
+The dog was probably dead, for his bark no longer answered the sound of
+the bell when I passed the little gate and entered the garden, all
+strewn with dead leaves where the night's frost had withered the last
+chrysanthemums.
+
+It was not Madame Miraz--she was absent--it was Helen who received me,
+Helen, who had grown to be a great girl of fourteen, with an awkward
+manner. She opened for me the door of her father's study, and brusquely
+lifting her great black eyelashes, turned on me a timid and distressed
+glance.
+
+I found Miraz huddled in an easy-chair in the corner of the fireplace,
+wrapped in a sort of bed-gown, with gray locks streaking his long hair;
+and by the cold, clammy hand which he reached towards me, by the pallid
+face which he turned upon me, I knew that he was lost. Horrible! I found
+in my unhappy comrade that worn and ruined look which used to strike us
+formerly among the poor Poles of the cremerie.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Ah, well, old man, things are not going well?"
+
+"Deucedly bad, my boy," he answered, with a heart-breaking smile. "I am
+going out stupidly with consumption, as they do in the fifth act, you
+know, when the venerable doctor, with a head like Beranger, feels the
+first walking gentleman's pulse, and lifts his eyes towards heaven,
+saying, 'The death-struggle approaches!' Only the difference is that
+with me it continues; it will not conclude, the death-struggle. Smoke
+away; that doesn't disturb me," he added, seeing me put my cigar one
+side, his cough sounding like a death-rattle.
+
+I tried to find encouraging words. I talked with him, holding him by the
+hand and patting him affectionately on the shoulder; but my voice had in
+my own ears the empty hollowness of deceit, and Miraz, looking at me,
+seemed to pity my efforts.
+
+I was silent.
+
+"Look," said he, pointing to his table; "see my work-bench. For six
+months I have not been able to write."
+
+It was true. Nothing could be more sad than that heap of papers covered
+with dust, and in an old Roman plate there was a bundle of pens, crusted
+with ink, and like those trophies of rusty foils which hang on the walls
+of old fencers.
+
+I made a new attempt to revive him. Die! at his age. Nonsense! He wasn't
+taking care of himself. He must pass the winter in the South, drink a
+good draught of sunlight. He could. He was easy in his money matters.
+
+But he stopped me, putting his hand on my arm.
+
+"Listen," he said, gravely, "we have seen each other seldom, but you are
+my oldest, perhaps my best, friend. You have proved me pen in hand.
+Well, I am going to tell you something in confidence, for you to keep to
+yourself, unless it may serve on some occasion to discourage the young
+literary aspirants who bring their manuscripts to you--always a
+praiseworthy action. Yes, I have been successful. Yes, I have been paid
+a franc a line. Yes, I have made money, and there in that drawer are a
+certain number of yellow, green, and red papers from which a bit is
+clipped every six months, and which represent three or four thousand
+francs of income. It is rare in our profession, and to gain that poor
+hoard I have been obliged--I, a poet--to imitate the unsociable virtues
+of a bourgeois, know how to deny a jewel to my wife, a dress to my
+daughter. At last I have that money. And I often said to myself, if I
+should die their bread is assured, and here is a little marriage portion
+for Helen! And I was content--I was proud!--for I know them, the stories
+of our widows and our orphans, the fourpenny help of the government, the
+tobacco shops for six hundred francs in the province, and, if the
+daughter is intelligent and pretty like mine, the dramatic author, an
+old friend of the father, who advises her to enter the Conservatoire,
+and who makes of her--mercy of God! that shall never be. But for all
+that, my boy, it is necessary that I should not linger. Sickness is
+expensive, and already it has been necessary to sell one or two bonds
+from that drawer. To seek the sunlight, as you suggest, to bask like a
+lizard at Cannes or at Menton, one more bond must go, and there would
+not be enough to last to the end, if I should wait for seven or eight
+years more, now that I can no longer write. Happily, there is nothing to
+fear. But what I have suffered since I have been incapable of writing,
+and have felt my hoard of gold shrink and diminish in my hand like the
+Magic Skin of Balzac, is frightful. Now you understand me, do you not?
+and you will no longer bid me take care of myself. No; if you still pray
+to God, ask him to send me speedily to the undertaker's."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Fifteen days later some thirty of us followed the hearse which carried
+Louis Miraz to the Cemetery Montmartre. It had snowed the day before,
+and Doctor Arnould, the old frequenter of painters' studios, the friend
+and physician of the dead man, walking behind me, called in his brusque
+voice,
+
+"Very commonplace, but always terrible the contrast: a burial in the
+snow--black on white. The Funeral of the Poor, by the late Vigneron,
+isn't to be ridiculed. Brr!"
+
+At last we came to the edge of the grave. The place and the time were
+sad. Under a cloudy sky the little yew-trees, swayed by the wind, threw
+down their burdens of melted snow. The by-standers had formed a circle,
+and were watching the grave-diggers, who were lowering the coffin by
+cords. Near a cross-bearer, whose short surplice permitted the bottom of
+his trousers to be seen, the priest waited with a finger in his book;
+and, having grasped the rim of his hat under his left arm, the orator of
+the Society of Men of Letters already held in his black-gloved hand the
+funeral oration, hastily patched up by the aid of a comrade over a
+couple of glasses at the corner of a cafe table.
+
+Suddenly, as the priest began his Latin prayers, Doctor Arnould seized
+me by the arm and whispered in my ear,
+
+"You know that he killed himself?"
+
+I looked at him with astonishment. But he pointed to the group in black,
+composed of Madame Miraz and her daughter, who were sobbing under their
+long veils and clasping each other in a tragic embrace, and he added,
+
+"For them. Yes, for six months he threw all his medicines in the fire,
+and designedly committed all sorts of imprudences. He confessed it to me
+before his death. I had not understood it at all--I, who had expected to
+prolong his life at least three years by creosote. At last the other
+night, when it was freezing cold, he left his window open, as if by
+forgetfulness, and was taken with bleeding at the lungs. Yes, that he
+might leave bread for those two women. The cure does not dream that he
+is blessing a suicide. But what of it, my good fellow? Miraz is in the
+paradise of the brave. The details of such a death. Eh? It is tougher
+than the passage of the Bridge of Arcole."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+A DRAMATIC FUNERAL.
+
+[Illustration: A DRAMATIC FUNERAL]
+
+
+For twenty-five years he had played the role of the villain at the
+Boulevard du Crime,[A] and his harsh voice, his nose like an eagle's
+beak, his eye with its savage glitter, had made him a good player of
+such parts. For twenty-five years, dressed in the cloak and encircled by
+the fawn-colored leather belt of Mordaunt, he had retreated with the
+step of a wounded scorpion before the sword of D'Artagnan; draped in the
+dirty Jewish gown of Rodin, he had rubbed his dry hands together,
+muttering the terrible "Patience, patience!" and, curled on the chair of
+the Duc d'Este, he had said to Lucretia Borgia, with a sufficiently
+infernal glance, "Take care and make no mistake. The flagon of gold,
+madame." When, preceded by a tremolo, he made his entry in the scene,
+the third gallery trembled, and a sigh of relief greeted the moment when
+the first walking gentleman at last said to him: "Between us two, now,"
+and immolated him for the grand triumph of virtue.
+
+[Footnote A: A nickname given to the Boulevard du Temple, on account of
+the numerous melodramatic theatres situated there.]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+But this sort of success, which is only betrayed by murmurs of horror,
+is not of the kind to make a dramatic career seductive; and besides the
+old actor had always hidden in a corner of his heart the bucolic ideal
+which is in the heart of almost all artists. He sighed for an old age of
+leisure, and the comfortable dignity of a retired shopkeeper; the house
+in the country, where he could live with his family, with melons, under
+an arbor; cakes and wine in the winter evenings; his daughter a scholar
+in a convent; his son in the uniform of the Polytechnique; and the cross
+of the Legion.
+
+Now, when we had occasion to know him, he had already nearly realized
+his dreams.
+
+After the failure of the theatre where he had been for a long time
+engaged, some capitalists had thought of him to put the enterprise on
+its feet again. With his systematic habits, his good sense, his thorough
+and practical knowledge of the business, and a sufficiently correct
+literary instinct, he became an excellent manager. He was the owner of
+stocks and a villa at Montmorency; his son was a student at
+Sainte-Barbe, and his daughter had just come out of Les Oiseaux; and if
+the malice of small newspapers had retarded his nomination in the Legion
+of Honor by recalling every year, about the first of January, his old
+ranting on the stage, when he played formerly the villains' parts, he
+could yet hope that it would not be long before the red ribbon would
+flourish in his button-hole. He had still preserved some of the habits
+of a strolling player, such as being very familiar with everybody, and
+dyeing his mustaches; but as he was, on the whole, good, honest, and
+serviceable, he conquered the esteem and friendship of those with whom
+he came in contact.
+
+So it was with sincere grief that the whole dramatic world learned one
+day the terrible sorrow which had smitten that excellent man. His
+daughter, a girl of seventeen, had died suddenly of brain-fever.
+
+We knew how he adored the child; how he had brought her up in the
+strictest principles of family and religion, far from the theatre,
+something as Triboulet hid his daughter Blanche in the little house of
+the cul-de-sac Bucy. We understood that all the hopes and ambitions of
+the man rested on the head of that charming girl, who, near all the
+corruption of the theatre, had grown up in innocence and purity, as one
+sees sometimes in the scanty grass of the faubourgs a field-flower
+spring up by the door of a hovel.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+We were among the first at the funeral, to which we had been summoned by
+a black-bordered billet.
+
+A crowd of the people of the neighborhood encumbered the street before
+the house of the dead, attracted by the pomps of the first-class funeral
+ordered by the old comedian, who had preserved the taste of the _mise en
+scene_ even in his grief. The magnificent hearse and cumbrous
+mourning-coaches were already drawn up to the sidewalk, and under the
+door, and in the shade of the heavy fringed and silvered draperies, amid
+the twinkling of burning candles, between two priests reading prayers in
+their Prayer-books, the form of the massive coffin could be seen under
+its white cloth, covered with Parma violets.
+
+As we walked among the crowd we noticed the groups formed of those who,
+like us, were waiting the departure of the cortege. There were almost
+all the actors, men and women, of Paris, who had come to pay their last
+respects to the daughter of their comrade. Undoubtedly nothing could be
+more natural; but we experienced not the less a strange sensation on
+seeing, around the coffin of that pure young girl who had breathed away
+her last breath in a prayer, the gathering of all those faces marked by
+the brand of the theatre.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+They were all there: the stars, the comedians, the lovers, the traitors;
+nobody was lacking: soubrettes, duennas, coquettes, first walking
+ladies. Wearing a sack-coat and a felt hat on his long gray hair, the
+superb adventurer of all the cloak and sword dramas leaned against the
+shutter of a shop in his familiar attitude, and crossed his arms to show
+his handsome hands; while a little old fellow with the wrinkled face of
+a clown spoke to him briskly in the broad, harsh voice which had so
+often made us explode with laughter. By the side of the aged first young
+man, who, pinched in his scanty frock-coat, and with trousers trailing
+under foot, twirled in his gloved hands his locks of over-black hair,
+stood a great handsome fellow, beautiful as a model, who had not been
+able to renounce even for that day his eccentricities of costume, and
+strutted in a black velvet cape and the boots of an equerry. Oh, how
+sad, tired, and old they seemed in the gray light of that winter
+morning, all those pathetic heads, graceful or laughable, which we were
+only in the habit of seeing when transfigured by the prestige of the
+stage. Chins had become blue-black under too frequent shaving; hair thin
+and dry under the hot iron of the hair-dresser; skins rough under the
+injurious action of unguents and vinegar; eyes dull, burned by the glare
+of foot-lights--blinded, almost fixed, like those of an owl in the
+sunlight.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The women were especially to be pitied. Obliged by the occasion to rise
+at a very early hour, and not having had the time for a careful and
+minute toilet, they gathered in groups of four or five, chilled and
+shivering in their fur mantles, muffs, and triple black veils.
+Notwithstanding the hasty rouge and powder of the morning, they were
+unrecognizable, and it required an effort of imagination to find in them
+a memory of that sublime seraglio of the Parisian theatres, exposed
+every evening to the desires of several thousand men. On all of these
+charming types appeared the mark of weariness and age. Some ossified
+into faded skeletons, others grew dull with an unhealthy weight of fat;
+wrinkles crossed the foreheads and starred the temples; lips were livid
+and eyes circled with dark rings; the complexions were particularly
+frightful--that uniform tint, morbid and sickly, the work of rouge and
+grease-paints. That heavy woman, with the head and neck of a farmer's
+wife (one almost sees a basket on her shoulder), is the terrible and
+fatal queen of grand, romantic dramas; and that small blonde and pale
+creature, so faded under her laces, and who would have completely filled
+a music-teacher's carrying roll, was the artless young woman whom all
+the vaudevillists married at the denouement of their pieces. There were
+the dying glances of the lorette in the hospital, the pose of the old
+copyist of the Louvre, and the theatrical sneer.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Soon the cabs drove up with the functionaries connected with the
+administration of the theatre, in black hats and coats, with an official
+air of sadness; young reporters, the outflow of journalism, staring at
+everybody and taking notes; dramatic authors, Monday feuilletonists--in
+short, all of those nocturnal beings, tired and worn-out, who are
+properly called the actives of Paris.
+
+The groups became more compact, and talked animatedly. Old friends found
+each other; they shook hands, and, in view of the circumstances, smiled
+cordially, while the women saluted each other through their veils.
+
+In passing, we could catch fragments of conversation like this:
+
+"When will the affair begin?"
+
+"Were you at the opening of the Varietes yesterday?"
+
+Theatrical terms were heard--"My talents," "My charms," "My physique."
+Some business, even, was done. A new manager was quite surrounded; an
+old actress organized her benefit.
+
+Suddenly there was a movement in the crowd. The undertaker's men had
+just placed the coffin in the hearse, and the young girls of the
+Sisterhood of the Virgin, to which the dead girl had belonged, arranged
+themselves in two lines, in their white veils, at the sides of the
+funeral-car. Preceded by the master of ceremonies, in silk stockings and
+a wand of office in his hand, the poor father appeared on the pavement
+in full mourning, with a white cravat, broken down by grief and
+sustained by his friends.
+
+The procession set out and came to the parish church, fortunately near.
+
+There was a grand mass, with music which was not finished. It was too
+warm in the church stuffed with people, and the inattention was general.
+Men who recognized each other saluted with a light movement of the head;
+conversation was exchanged in a low voice; some young actors struck
+attitudes for the benefit of the women, and the pious responded to
+Dominus Vobiscum droned by the priest. At the elevation, from behind the
+altar, rang out a magnificent Pie Jesu, sung by a celebrated baritone,
+who had never put in his voice so much amorous languor. Outside the
+church-yard the small boys of the quarter stood on tiptoe, and, hanging
+on to the railings, pointed out the celebrities with their fingers.
+
+The office finished, the long defile commenced; and every one went to
+the entrance of the church to sprinkle some drops of holy-water on the
+bier, and press the hand of the old actor, who, broken by grief, and
+having hardly strength to hold his hat, leaned against a pillar.
+
+That was the most horrible moment.
+
+Carried away by the habit of playing up to the situation, all these
+theatrical people put into the token of sympathy which they gave to
+their friend the character of their employment. The star advanced
+gravely, and with a three-quarter inclination of his head flashed out
+the "Look of Fate." The old tragedian with a gray beard assumed a
+stoical expression, and did not forget to "vibrate" in pronouncing a
+masculine "Courage!" The clown approached with a short, trotting step,
+and shaking his head until his cheeks trembled, he murmured, "My poor
+old fellow." And the fairy queen, with the sensibility of a sensitive
+female, threw herself impulsively on the neck of the unhappy father,
+who, with swollen face, bloodshot eyes, and hanging lip, blackened his
+face and his gloved hands with the dye of his mustache, diluted by
+tears.
+
+And all the time, a few steps from this grotesque and sinister scene, we
+could see--last word of this antithesis--the white figures of the young
+girls of the sisterhood, kneeling on the chairs nearest the coffin of
+their companion, and who undoubtedly were beseeching God, in their
+naive and original prayers, to grant her the paradise of their dreams:
+a pretty paradise in the Jesuitical style, all in carved and gilded
+wood, and many-colored marble, where one could see at the end a tableau
+in a transparent light; the Virgin crowned with stars, with a serpent
+under her feet, while little cherubs suspended in mid-air over her head
+an azure streamer flaming with these words: "_Ecce Regina Angelorum._"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE SUBSTITUTE.
+
+[Illustration: THE SUBSTITUTE]
+
+
+He was scarcely ten years old when he was first arrested as a vagabond.
+
+He spoke thus to the judge:
+
+"I am called Jean Francois Leturc, and for six months I was with the
+man who sings and plays upon a cord of catgut between the lanterns at
+the Place de la Bastille. I sang the refrain with him, and after that I
+called, 'Here's all the new songs, ten centimes, two sous!' He was
+always drunk, and used to beat me. That is why the police picked me up
+the other night. Before that I was with the man who sells brushes. My
+mother was a laundress; her name was Adele. At one time she lived with
+a man on the ground-floor at Montmartre. She was a good work-woman and
+liked me. She made money because she had for customers waiters in the
+cafes, and they use a good deal of linen. On Sundays she used to put me
+to bed early so that she could go to the ball. On week-days she sent me
+to Les Freres, where I learned to read. Well, the sergeant-de-ville
+whose beat was in our street used always to stop before our windows to
+talk with her--a good-looking chap, with a medal from the Crimea. They
+were married, and after that everything went wrong. He didn't take to
+me, and turned mother against me. Every one had a blow for me, and so,
+to get out of the house, I spent whole days in the Place Clichy, where I
+knew the mountebanks. My father-in-law lost his place, and my mother her
+work. She used to go out washing to take care of him; this gave her a
+cough--the steam.... She is dead at Lamboisiere. She was a good woman.
+Since that I have lived with the seller of brushes and the catgut
+scraper. Are you going to send me to prison?"
+
+He said this openly, cynically, like a man. He was a little ragged
+street-arab, as tall as a boot, his forehead hidden under a queer mop of
+yellow hair.
+
+Nobody claimed him, and they sent him to the Reform School.
+
+Not very intelligent, idle, clumsy with his hands, the only trade he
+could learn there was not a good one--that of reseating straw chairs.
+However, he was obedient, naturally quiet and silent, and he did not
+seem to be profoundly corrupted by that school of vice. But when, in his
+seventeenth year, he was thrown out again on the streets of Paris, he
+unhappily found there his prison comrades, all great scamps, exercising
+their dirty professions: teaching dogs to catch rats in the the sewers,
+and blacking shoes on ball nights in the passage of the Opera--amateur
+wrestlers, who permitted themselves to be thrown by the Hercules of the
+booths--or fishing at noontime from rafts; all of these occupations he
+followed to some extent, and, some months after he came out of the house
+of correction, he was arrested again for a petty theft--a pair of old
+shoes prigged from a shop-window. Result: a year in the prison of Sainte
+Pelagie, where he served as valet to the political prisoners.
+
+He lived in much surprise among this group of prisoners, all very young,
+negligent in dress, who talked in loud voices, and carried their heads
+in a very solemn fashion. They used to meet in the cell of one of the
+oldest of them, a fellow of some thirty years, already a long time in
+prison and quite a fixture at Sainte Pelagie--a large cell, the walls
+covered with colored caricatures, and from the window of which one could
+see all Paris--its roofs, its spires, and its domes--and far away the
+distant line of hills, blue and indistinct upon the sky. There were upon
+the walls some shelves filled with volumes and all the old paraphernalia
+of a fencing-room: broken masks, rusty foils, breast-plates, and gloves
+that were losing their tow. It was there that the "politicians" used to
+dine together, adding to the everlasting "soup and beef," fruit, cheese,
+and pints of wine which Jean Francois went out and got by the can--a
+tumultuous repast interrupted by violent disputes, and where, during the
+dessert, the "Carmagnole" and "Ca Ira" were sung in full chorus. They
+assumed, however, an air of great dignity on those days when a newcomer
+was brought in among them, at first entertaining him gravely as a
+citizen, but on the morrow using him with affectionate familiarity, and
+calling him by his nickname. Great words were used there: Corporation,
+Responsibility, and phrases quite unintelligible to Jean Francois--such
+as this, for example, which he once heard imperiously put forth by a
+frightful little hunchback who blotted some writing-paper every night:
+
+"It is done. This is the composition of the Cabinet: Raymond, the Bureau
+of Public Instruction; Martial, the Interior; and for Foreign Affairs,
+myself."
+
+His time done, he wandered again around Paris, watched afar by the
+police, after the fashion of cockchafers, made by cruel children to fly
+at the end of a string. He became one of those fugitive and timid beings
+whom the law, with a sort of coquetry, arrests and releases by
+turn--something like those platonic fishers who, in order that they may
+not exhaust their fish-pond, throw immediately back in the water the
+fish which has just come out of the net. Without a suspicion on his part
+that so much honor had been done to so sorry a subject, he had a special
+bundle of memoranda in the mysterious portfolios of the Rue de
+Jerusalem. His name was written in round hand on the gray paper of the
+cover, and the notes and reports, carefully classified, gave him his
+successive appellations: "Name, Leturc;" "the prisoner Leturc," and, at
+last, "the criminal Leturc."
+
+He was two years out of prison, dining where he could, sleeping in night
+lodging-houses and sometimes in lime-kilns, and taking part with his
+fellows in interminable games of pitch-penny on the boulevards near the
+barriers: He wore a greasy cap on the back of his head, carpet slippers,
+and a short white blouse. When he had five sous he had his hair curled.
+He danced at Constant's at Montparnasse; bought for two sous to sell for
+four at the door of Bobino, the jack of hearts or the ace of clubs
+serving as a countermark; sometimes opened the door of a carriage; led
+horses to the horse-market. From the lottery of all sorts of miserable
+employments he drew a goodly number. Who can say if the atmosphere of
+honor which one breathes as a soldier, if military discipline might not
+have saved him. Taken, in a cast of the net, with some young loafers who
+robbed drunkards sleeping on the streets, he denied very earnestly
+having taken part in their expeditions. Perhaps he told the truth, but
+his antecedents were accepted in lieu of proof, and he was sent for
+three years to Poissy. There he made coarse playthings for children, was
+tattooed on the chest, learned thieves' slang and the penal-code. A new
+liberation, and a new plunge into the sink of Paris; but very short this
+time, for at the end of six months at the most he was again compromised
+in a night robbery, aggravated by climbing and breaking--a serious
+affair, in which he played an obscure role, half dupe and half fence. On
+the whole his complicity was evident, and he was sent for five years at
+hard labor. His grief in this adventure was above all in being separated
+from an old dog which he had found on a dung-heap, and cured of the
+mange. The beast loved him.
+
+Toulon, the ball and chain, the work in the harbor, the blows from a
+stick, wooden shoes on bare feet, soup of black beans dating from
+Trafalgar, no tobacco money, and the terrible sleep in a camp swarming
+with convicts; that was what he experienced for five broiling summers
+and five winters raw with the Mediterranean wind. He came out from there
+stunned, was sent under surveillance to Vernon, where he worked some
+time on the river. Then, an incorrigible vagabond, he broke his exile
+and came again to Paris. He had his savings, fifty-six francs, that is
+to say, time enough for reflection. During his absence his former
+wretched companions had dispersed. He was well hidden, and slept in a
+loft at an old woman's, to whom he represented himself as a sailor,
+tired of the sea, who had lost his papers in a recent shipwreck, and who
+wanted to try his hand at something else. His tanned face and his
+calloused hands, together with some sea phrases which he dropped from
+time to time, made his tale seem probable enough.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+One day when he risked a saunter in the streets, and when chance had led
+him as far as Montmartre, where he was born, an unexpected memory
+stopped him before the door of Les Freres, where he had learned to
+read. As it was very warm the door was open, and by a single glance the
+passing outcast was able to recognize the peaceable school-room. Nothing
+was changed: neither the bright light shining in at the great windows,
+nor the crucifix over the desk, nor the rows of benches with the tables
+furnished with ink-stands and pencils, nor the table of weights and
+measures, nor the map where pins stuck in still indicated the operations
+of some ancient war. Heedlessly and without thinking, Jean Francois
+read on the blackboard the words of the Evangelist which had been set
+there as a copy:
+
+"Joy shall be in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, more than over
+ninety and nine just persons, which need no repentance."
+
+It was undoubtedly the hour for recreation, for the Brother Professor
+had left his chair, and, sitting on the edge of a table, he was telling
+a story to the boys who surrounded him with eager and attentive eyes.
+What a bright and innocent face he had, that beardless young man, in his
+long black gown, and white necktie, and great ugly shoes, and his badly
+cut brown hair streaming out behind! All the simple figures of the
+children of the people who were watching him seemed scarcely less
+childlike than his; above all when, delighted with some of his own
+simple and priestly pleasantries, he broke out in an open and frank peal
+of laughter which showed his white and regular teeth, a peal so
+contagious that all the scholars laughed loudly in their turn. It was
+such a sweet, simple group in the bright sunlight, which lighted their
+dear eyes and their blond curls.
+
+Jean Francois looked at them for some time in silence, and for the
+first time in that savage nature, all instinct and appetite, there awoke
+a mysterious, a tender emotion. His heart, that seared and hardened
+heart, unmoved when the convict's cudgel or the heavy whip of the
+watchman fell on his shoulders, beat oppressively. In that sight he saw
+again his infancy; and closing his eyes sadly, the prey to torturing
+regret, he walked quickly away.
+
+Then the words written on the blackboard came back to his mind.
+
+"If it wasn't too late, after all!" he murmured; "if I could again, like
+others, eat honestly my brown bread, and sleep my fill without
+nightmare! The spy must be sharp who recognizes me. My beard, which I
+shaved off down there, has grown out thick and strong. One can burrow
+somewhere in the great ant-hill, and work can be found. Whoever is not
+worked to death in the hell of the galleys comes out agile and robust,
+and I learned there to climb ropes with loads upon my back. Building is
+going on everywhere here, and the masons need helpers. Three francs a
+day! I never earned so much. Let me be forgotten, and that is all I
+ask."
+
+He followed his courageous resolution; he was faithful to it, and after
+three months he was another man. The master for whom he worked called
+him his best workman. After a long day upon the scaffolding, in the hot
+sun and the dust, constantly bending and raising his back to take the
+hod from the man at his feet and pass it to the man over his head, he
+went for his soup to the cook-shop, tired out, his legs aching, his
+hands burning, his eyelids stuck with plaster, but content with himself,
+and carrying his well-earned money in a knot in his handkerchief. He
+went out now without fear, since he could not be recognized in his white
+mask, and since he had noticed that the suspicious glances of the
+policeman were seldom turned on the tired workman. He was quiet and
+sober. He slept the sound sleep of fatigue. He was free!
+
+At last--oh, supreme recompense!--he had a friend!
+
+He was a fellow-workman like himself, named Savinien, a little peasant
+with red lips who had come to Paris with his stick over his shoulder and
+a bundle on the end of it, fleeing from the wine-shops and going to mass
+every Sunday. Jean Francois loved him for his piety, for his candor,
+for his honesty, for all that he himself had lost, and so long ago. It
+was a passion, profound and unrestrained, which transformed him by
+fatherly cares and attentions. Savinien, himself of a weak and
+egotistical nature, let things take their course, satisfied only in
+finding a companion who shared his horror of the wine-shop. The two
+friends lived together in a fairly comfortable lodging, but their
+resources were very limited. They were obliged to take into their room a
+third companion, an old Auvergnat, gloomy and rapacious, who found it
+possible out of his meagre salary to save something with which to buy a
+place in his own country. Jean Francois and Savinien were always
+together. On holidays they together took long walks in the environs of
+Paris, and dined under an arbor in one of those small country inns where
+there are a great many mushrooms in the sauces and innocent rebusses on
+the napkins. There Jean Francois learned from his friend all that lore
+of which they who are born in the city are ignorant: learned the names
+of the trees, the flowers, and the plants; the various seasons for
+harvesting; he heard eagerly the thousand details of a laborious country
+life--the autumn sowing, the winter chores, the splendid celebrations of
+harvest and vintage days, the sound of the mills at the water-side, and
+the flails striking the ground, the tired horses led to water, and the
+hunting in the morning mist; and, above all, the long evenings around
+the fire of vine-shoots, that were shortened by some marvellous stories.
+He discovered in himself a source of imagination before unknown, and
+found a singular delight in the recital of events so placid, so calm, so
+monotonous.
+
+One thing troubled him, however: it was the fear lest Savinien might
+learn something of his past. Sometimes there escaped from him some low
+word of thieves' slang, a vulgar gesture--vestiges of his former
+horrible existence--and he felt the pain one feels when old wounds
+re-open; the more because he fancied that he sometimes saw in Savinien
+the awakening of an unhealthy curiosity. When the young man, already
+tempted by the pleasures which Paris offers to the poorest, asked him
+about the mysteries of the great city, Jean Francois feigned ignorance
+and turned the subject; but he felt a vague inquietude for the future of
+his friend.
+
+His uneasiness was not without foundation. Savinien could not long
+remain the simple rustic that he was on his arrival in Paris. If the
+gross and noisy pleasures of the wine-shop always repelled him, he was
+profoundly troubled by other temptations, full of danger for the
+inexperience of his twenty years. When spring came he began to go off
+alone, and at first he wandered about the brilliant entrance of some
+dancing-hall, watching the young girls who went in with their arms
+around each others' waists, talking in low tones. Then, one evening,
+when lilacs perfumed the air and the call to quadrilles was most
+captivating, he crossed the threshold, and from that time Jean Francois
+observed a change, little by little, in his manners and his visage. He
+became more frivolous, more extravagant. He often borrowed from his
+friend his scanty savings, and he forgot to repay. Jean Francois,
+feeling that he was abandoned, jealous and forgiving at the same time,
+suffered and was silent. He felt that he had no right to reproach him,
+but with the foresight of affection he indulged in cruel and inevitable
+presentiments.
+
+One evening, as he was mounting the stairs to his room, absorbed in his
+thoughts, he heard, as he was about to enter, the sound of angry voices,
+and he recognized that of the old Auvergnat who lodged with Savinien and
+himself. An old habit of suspicion made him stop at the landing-place
+and listen to learn the cause of the trouble.
+
+"Yes," said the Auvergnat, angrily, "I am sure that some one has opened
+my trunk and stolen from it the three louis that I had hidden in a
+little box; and he who has done this thing must be one of the two
+companions who sleep here, if it were not the servant Maria. It concerns
+you as much as it does me, since you are the master of the house, and I
+will drag you to the courts if you do not let me at once break open the
+valises of the two masons. My poor gold! It was here yesterday in its
+place, and I will tell you just what it was, so that if we find it again
+nobody can accuse me of having lied. Ah, I know them, my three beautiful
+gold pieces, and I can see them as plainly as I see you! One piece was
+more worn than the others; it was of greenish gold, with a portrait of
+the great emperor. The other was a great old fellow with a queue and
+epaulettes; and the third, which had on it a Philippe with whiskers, I
+had marked with my teeth. They don't trick me. Do you know that I only
+wanted two more like that to pay for my vineyard? Come, search these
+fellows' things with me, or I will call the police! Hurry up!" "All
+right," said the voice of the landlord; "we will go and search with
+Maria. So much the worse for you if we find nothing, and the masons get
+angry. You have forced me to it."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Jean Francois' soul was full of fright. He remembered the embarrassed
+circumstances and the small loans of Savinien, and how sober he had
+seemed for some days. And yet he could not believe that he was a thief.
+He heard the Auvergnat panting in his eager search, and he pressed his
+closed fists against his breast as if to still the furious beating of
+his heart.
+
+"Here they are!" suddenly shouted the victorious miser. "Here they are,
+my louis, my dear treasure; and in the Sunday vest of that little
+hypocrite of Limousin! Look, landlord, they are just as I told you. Here
+is the Napoleon, the man with a queue, and the Philippe that I have
+bitten. See the dents? Ah, the little beggar with the sanctified air. I
+should have much sooner suspected the other. Ah, the wretch! Well, he
+must go to the convict prison."
+
+At this moment Jean Francois heard the well-known step of Savinien
+coming slowly up the stairs.
+
+He is going to his destruction, thought he. Three stories. I have time!
+
+And, pushing open the door, he entered the room, pale as death, where he
+saw the landlord and the servant stupefied in a corner, while the
+Auvergnat, on his knees, in the disordered heap of clothes, was kissing
+the pieces of gold.
+
+"Enough of this," he said, in a thick voice; "I took the money, and put
+it in my comrade's trunk. But that is too bad. I am a thief, but not a
+Judas. Call the police; I will not try to escape, only I must say a word
+to Savinien in private. Here he is."
+
+In fact, the little Limousin had just arrived, and seeing his crime
+discovered, believing himself lost, he stood there, his eyes fixed, his
+arms hanging.
+
+Jean Francois seized him forcibly by the neck, as if to embrace him; he
+put his mouth close to Savinien's ear, and said to him in a low,
+supplicating voice,
+
+"Keep quiet."
+
+Then turning towards the others:
+
+"Leave me alone with him. I tell you I won't go away. Lock us in if you
+wish, but leave us alone."
+
+With a commanding gesture he showed them the door. They went out.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Savinien, broken by grief, was sitting on the bed, and lowered his eyes
+without understanding anything.
+
+"Listen," said Jean Francois, who came and took him by the hands. "I
+understand! You have stolen three gold pieces to buy some trifle for a
+girl. That costs six months in prison. But one only comes out from there
+to go back again, and you will become a pillar of police courts and
+tribunals. I understand it. I have been seven years at the Reform
+School, a year at Sainte Pelagie, three years at Poissy, five years at
+Toulon. Now, don't be afraid. Everything is arranged. I have taken it on
+my shoulders."
+
+"It is dreadful," said Savinien; but hope was springing up again in his
+cowardly heart.
+
+"When the elder brother is under the flag, the younger one does not go,"
+replied Jean Francois. "I am your substitute, that's all. You care for
+me a little, do you not? I am paid. Don't be childish--don't refuse.
+They would have taken me again one of these days, for I am a runaway
+from exile. And then, do you see, that life will be less hard for me
+than for you. I know it all, and I shall not complain if I have not done
+you this service for nothing, and if you swear to me that you will never
+do it again. Savinien, I have loved you well, and your friendship has
+made me happy. It is through it that, since I have known you, I have
+been honest and pure, as I might always have been, perhaps, if I had
+had, like you, a father to put a tool in my hands, a mother to teach me
+my prayers. It was my sole regret that I was useless to you, and that I
+deceived you concerning myself. To-day I have unmasked in saving you. It
+is all right. Do not cry, and embrace me, for already I hear heavy boots
+on the stairs. They are coming with the _posse_, and we must not seem to
+know each other so well before those chaps."
+
+He pressed Savinien quickly to his breast, then pushed him from him,
+when the door was thrown wide open.
+
+It was the landlord and the Auvergnat, who brought the police. Jean
+Francois sprang forward to the landing-place, held out his hands for
+the handcuffs, and said, laughing, "Forward, bad lot!"
+
+To-day he is at Cayenne, condemned for life as an incorrigible.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+AT TABLE.
+
+[Illustration: AT TABLE]
+
+
+When the _maitre d'hotel_--oh, what a respectable paunch in an ample
+kerseymere vest! What a worthy and red face, well framed by white
+whiskers! (an English physique, I assure you)--when the imposing
+_maitre d'hotel_ opened with two raps the door of the salon, and
+announced in his musical bass voice, at the same time sonorous and
+respectful, "The dinner of madame la comtesse is served," hats were hung
+on the corners of brackets, while the more distinguished of the guests
+offered their arms to the ladies, and all passed into the dining-room,
+silent, almost meditative, like a procession.
+
+The table glittered. What flowers! What lights! Each guest found his
+place without difficulty. As soon as he had read his name on the glazed
+card, a grand lackey in silk stockings pushed gently behind him a
+luxurious chair embroidered with a count's coronet. Fourteen at the
+table, not more: four young women in full toilets, and ten men belonging
+to the aristocracy of blood or of merit, who had put on that evening all
+their orders in honor of a foreign diplomat sitting at the right hand of
+the mistress of the house. Clusters of jewelled decorations hung from
+button-holes, plaques of diamonds glittered in the lapel of one or two
+black coats, a heavy commander's cross sparkled on the starched front of
+a general with a red cravat. As to the ladies, they bore all the
+splendors of their jewel-boxes.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+An elegant and exquisite reunion! What an atmosphere of good-living in
+the high hall--splendidly decorated and ornamented on its four panels
+with studies for a dining-hall in the fine style of olden days--where
+were fruits, venison, and eatables of all sorts. The service of the
+table was noiseless; the domestics seemed to glide upon the thick
+carpet. The butler whispered the wines in the ears of the guests with a
+confidential tone, and as if he were revealing a secret upon which life
+depended.
+
+At the soup--a _consomme_ at the same time mild and stimulating, giving
+force and youthful vigor to the digestion--chat between neighbors began.
+Undoubtedly these were the merest trifles that were at first so low
+spoken. But what politeness in the grave gestures! What affability in
+looks and smiles! Soon after the Chateau-yquem, wit sparkled. These
+men, for the most part old or very mature, all remarkable through birth
+or through talent, had lived much; full of experience and memories, they
+were made for conversation, and the beauty of the women present inspired
+them with a desire to shine, and excited them to a courteous rivalry.
+There was a snapping of bright words, a flight of sudden sallies, and
+the conversationalists broke into groups of two or three. A famous
+voyager with bronzed skin, recently returned from the farthest deserts,
+told his two neighbors of an elephant hunt, without any boasting, with
+as much tranquillity as though he were speaking of shooting rabbits.
+Farther off, the fine profile and white hair of an illustrious savant
+was gallantly inclined towards the comtesse, who listened to him
+laughing--a very slender blonde, her eyes young and intent, with a
+collar of splendid emeralds on a bosom like a professional beauty, and
+the neck and shoulders of the Venus de Medici.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Decidedly the dinner promised to be charming as well as sumptuous.
+Ennui, that too frequent guest at mundane feasts, would not come to sit
+at that table. These fortunate ones were going to pass a delicious hour,
+drinking enjoyment through every pore, by every sense.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Now, at that same table, at the lower end, in the most modest place, a
+man still young, the least qualified, the most obscure of all who were
+there, a man of reverie and imagination, one of those dreamers in whom
+is something of philosophy, something of poetry, sat silent.
+
+Admitted into that high society by virtue of his renown as an artist,
+one of nature's aristocrats but without vanity, sprung from the people
+and not forgetting it, he breathed voluptuously that flower of
+civilization which is called good company.
+
+He knew--none better than he--how everything in this environment--the
+charm of the women, the wit of the men, the glittering table, the
+furnishing of the hall, to the exquisite wine which he had just touched
+to his lips--how everything was choice and rare, and he rejoiced that a
+concourse of things so lovely and so harmonious existed. He was plunged
+in a bath of optimism; it seemed to him good that there should be,
+sometimes and somewhere in the weary world, beings almost happy.
+Provided that they were accessible to pity, charitable--and these happy
+people probably were that--who could distress them? what could injure
+them? Ah, beautiful and consoling chimera to believe that for such as
+these life is pleasant; that they retain always--or almost always--that
+gay, happy light in the eye, that half-blossomed smile upon the lips;
+that they have blotted out, as far as possible, from their existence,
+imperious and discreditable desires and abject infirmities.
+
+He whom we will call the Dreamer was pursuing that train of thought,
+when the _maitre d'hotel_--the superb _maitre d'hotel_--entered with
+solemnity, carrying in a great silver plate a turbot of fabulous
+dimensions--one of those phenomenal fish which are only seen in the old
+paintings representing the miraculous draught of fish, or perhaps in the
+window of Chevet, before a row of astonished street-boys who flatten
+their noses against the glass window.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Dinner is served. But when the Dreamer had before him on his plate a
+portion of the monstrous turbot, the light odor of the sea evoked in his
+mind, prone to unexpected suggestions, that corner of Breton, that poor
+village of sailors, where he had been belated the other autumn until the
+equinox, and where he had rendered assistance in some dreadful storms.
+He suddenly called to mind that terrible night when the fishing-boats
+could not come back to port, the night that he had passed on the mole
+amid a group of frightened women, standing where the sea-spray streamed
+down his face, and the cold and furious wind seemed striving to tear his
+clothes from his back. What a life was theirs, those poor men! Down
+there how many widows, young and old, wearing always the black shawl,
+went at break of day, with their swarms of children, to earn their
+bread--oh, nothing but bread!--working in the sickening smell of hot oil
+in the sardine factories! He saw again in memory the church above the
+village, half-way up the cliff, the steeple painted white to show to the
+distant boats the passage between the reefs; and he saw, also, in the
+short grass of the cemetery nibbled by the sheep, the gravestones on
+which this sinister inscription was so often repeated: "_Lost at sea._"
+"_Lost at sea._" "_Lost at sea._"
+
+The enormous turbot was of savory and delicate taste, and the shrimp
+sauce with which it was served proved that the _chef_ of the comte had
+followed a course in cooking at the Cafe Anglais and profited by it.
+For our refined civilization reaches even this point. One takes degrees
+in culinary science. There are doctors in roasts and bachelors in
+sauces. All of the guests eat as if they appreciated, and with delicate
+gestures, but without showing special favor for exceptional dishes,
+through good form and because they were habituated to exquisite food.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The Dreamer himself had no appetite. He was still in thought with the
+Bretons, with the sons of the sea, who had caught, perhaps, this
+magnificent turbot. He remembered the day that followed the
+tempest--that morning, rainy and gray--when, walking by the heavy,
+leaden sea, he had found a body at his feet and recognized it as that of
+an old sailor, the father of a family, who had been lost at sea three
+days before--mournful jetsam, stranded in the wrack and foam, so
+heart-rending to see, with the gray hair of the drowned full of sand and
+shells!
+
+A shudder passed over his heart.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+But the lackeys had already removed the plates; every trace of the giant
+fish had disappeared, and while they were serving another course, the
+diners, elegant triflers, had taken up their chat again. Hunger being
+already somewhat appeased, they were more animated, they spoke with more
+abandon--light laughs ran round. Oh, charming and gracious company!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Then the Dreamer, the silent guest, was seized with an infinite sadness;
+for all the work and distress that were required to create this comfort
+and well-being came surging on his imagination.
+
+That these men of the world might wear light dress-coats in
+mid-December, that these women might expose their arms and their
+shoulders, the temperature of the room was that of a spring morning. And
+who furnished the coal? The poor devils of the black country, the
+subterranean workmen who lived in hellish mines. How white and fresh is
+the complexion of that young woman against her corsage of pink satin!
+But who had woven that satin? The human spider of Lyons, the weaver,
+always at his trade in the leprous houses of the Croix Rousse. She wears
+in her tiny ears two beautiful pearls. What brilliancy! what opaline
+transparence! Almost perfect spheres! The pearl which Cleopatra
+dissolved in vinegar and swallowed, and which was worth ten thousand
+sesterces, was not more pure. But does she know, that young woman, that
+in far-off Ceylon, on the pearl-oyster banks of Arripo and Condatchy,
+the Indians of the Indian Company plunge heroically down in twelve
+fathoms of water, one foot in the heavy stone weight which drags them
+down to the bottom, a knife in the left hand for defence against the
+shark?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+But what of that? One is lovely and coquettish. The air of the
+dining-hall is warm and perfumed. There one can dine gaily, adorned and
+half nude, flirting with one's neighbors. What has one to do, I ask you,
+with a dark workman, who digs fifty feet under the ground, with a weaver
+sitting with stiffened joints before the loom, with a savage who emerges
+from the sea and sometimes reddens it with his blood? Why should one
+think of things so sad, so ugly? What an absurdity!
+
+Meanwhile the Dreamer pursued his train of thought.
+
+An instant ago, without taking thought, mechanically he crumbled on the
+cloth a bit of the gilded bread which was placed near his napkin. As a
+viand, a mere bit of fancy, insignificant in such a repast, it made him
+think of the _naif_ phrase of the great lady concerning the starving
+wretches--"Let them eat cake." Nevertheless, this little cake is bread
+all the same--bread made of flour, which in turn is made of wheat. Great
+heaven! yes, it is bread, simply bread, like the loaf of the peasant,
+like the bran-roll of the soldier; and that it might be here, on the
+table of the rich, required the patient labor of many poor.
+
+The peasant labored, sowed, reaped. He pushed his plough or led his
+harrow across the fertile field, under the cold needles of the autumn
+rain; he started from sleep, full of terror for his crop, when it
+thundered by night; he trembled, seeing the passage of great violet
+clouds charged with hail; he went forth, dissatisfied and gloomy, to the
+heavy work and exhausting labor of harvest.
+
+And when the old miller, twisted by rheumatism which he has caught in
+the river fogs, has sent the flour to Paris, the market-porters with the
+great white hats have carried the crushing sacks on their broad backs,
+and last night, even, in the baker's cellar the workmen toiled until
+morning.
+
+Verily, yes! It has cost all these efforts, all these pains--the bit of
+bread carelessly broken by the white hands of these patricians.
+
+And now the incorrigible Dreamer was possessed by these things. The
+delicacies of the repast only recalled to him the suffering of humanity.
+Presently, when the butler poured for him a glass of Chambertin, did he
+not remember that certain glass-blowers became consumptive through
+blowing bottles?
+
+Let it pass--it is absurd. He well knows that so the world is made. An
+economist would have laughed in his face. Would he become a Socialist,
+perhaps? There will always be rich and poor, as there will always be
+well-formed men and hunchbacks.
+
+Besides, the fortunates before him were not unjustly so. These were not
+vulgar favorites of the Gilded Calf--parvenus gross and conceited. The
+nobleman who presides at the table bears with honor and dignity a name
+associated with all the glories of France; the general with the gray
+mustache is a hero, and charged at Rezonville with the intrepidity of a
+Murat; the painter, the poet, have faithfully served Art and Beauty; the
+chemist, a self-made man who began life as a shop-boy in a drug-store,
+and to whom the learned world listens to-day as to an oracle, is simply
+a man of genius; these high-born dames are generous and good, and they
+will often dip their fair hands courageously in the depth of misfortune.
+Why should not these members of the _elite_ have exceptional enjoyment?
+
+The Dreamer said to himself that he had been unjust. These were old
+sophisms--good, at the best, for the clubs of the faubourgs, which had
+been awakened in his memory, and by which he had been duped. Is it
+possible? He was ashamed of himself.
+
+But the dinner neared its end; and while the lackeys refilled for the
+last time the champagne-glasses, the table grew silent--the guests felt
+the apathy of digestion. The Dreamer looked at them, one after the
+other, and all the faces had satiated, _blase_ expressions which
+disturbed and disquieted him. A sentiment, obscure, inexplicable, but so
+bitter! protested even from the depth of his soul against that repast;
+and when they rose at last from the table, he repeated softly and
+stubbornly to himself:
+
+"Yes; they are within their rights. But do they know, do they
+understand, that their luxury is made from many miseries? Do they think
+of it sometimes? Do they think of it as often as they should? Do they
+think of it?"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+AN ACCIDENT.
+
+[Illustration: AN ACCIDENT.]
+
+
+I.
+
+Saint Medard, the old church of the Rue Mouffetard, once well known as
+the scene of the Convulsionnaires, is a very poor parish. The "Faubourg
+Marceau," as they call it there, has not much religion, and the
+vestry-board must have hard work to make both ends meet. On Sundays, at
+the hours of service, there are but few there, and they are for the most
+part women: some twenty of the folk of the quarter and some servants in
+their round caps. As for the men, there are not at the most more than
+three or four--old men in peasant jackets, who kneel awkwardly on the
+stone floor, near a pillar, their caps under their arms, rolling a great
+chaplet of beads between their fingers, moving their lips, and raising
+their eyes towards the arched roof, with an air as if they had given the
+stained-glass windows. On week days, nobody. On Thursdays, in the
+winter, the aisles resounded for an instant with the clang of wooden
+shoes, when the students of the catechism came and went. Sometimes a
+poor woman, leading one or two children and carrying a baby in her arms,
+came to burn a little candle on the stand at the chapel of the Virgin,
+or perhaps one heard by the baptismal font the wailing of a new-born
+babe; or, more often, the funeral of some poor wretch: a deal box,
+covered with a black cloth and resting on two trestles, hastily blessed
+by the priest, before a little group of women, the men being
+free-thinkers, and waiting the conclusion of the ceremony in the
+drinking-shop across the way, where they played bagatelle for drinks.
+
+Therefore, the old Abbe Faber, one of the vicars of the parish, is sure
+that twice out of three times he will find no penitent before his
+confessional, and has only to hear, for the most part of the time, the
+uninteresting confession of some good women. But he is conscientious,
+and on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, at seven o'clock precisely,
+he betakes himself regularly to the chapel of St. John, only to make a
+short prayer and return should there be nobody there.
+
+
+II.
+
+One day last winter, struggling against a heavy wind with his open
+umbrella, the Abbe Faber toiled painfully up the Rue Mouffetard, on the
+way to his parish, and, almost certain that his toil was useless, he
+regretted to himself the warm fire he had just quitted in his little
+room in the Rue D'homond, and the folio _Bollandiste_ which he had left
+lying on the table, with his eye-glasses on its open pages. But it was
+Saturday night, the day when certain old widows, who earned their scant
+income in the neighboring boarding-houses, sometimes sought absolution
+for the morrow's communion. The honest priest could not, therefore,
+excuse himself from entering his oak box and opening, with the
+punctuality of a cashier, that wicket where the devotees, for whom the
+confessional is a spiritual savings-bank, make a weekly deposit of their
+venial sins.
+
+The Abbe Faber was the more sorry to go out, because that particular
+Saturday was pay-day, and on such occasions the Rue Mouffetard swarmed
+with people, and a people not well disposed toward his cloth. However
+good a man one may be, it is far from agreeable to be forced to lower
+the eyes to avoid malevolent looks, and to stop the ears against
+insolent words heard in passing. There was a certain drinking-shop which
+the abbe particularly dreaded--a shop brilliant with gas and exhaling
+an odor of alcohol through its open doors, through which one could see a
+perspective of barrels labelled: "Absinthe," "Bitter," "Madere,"
+"Vermouth," etc. Here, leaning against the bar, were always a band of
+loafers in long blouses and high hats, who saluted the poor abbe,
+walking quickly along the pavement, with ribald jests.
+
+However, on this night the streets were deserted on account of the bad
+weather, and the abbe reached his church without interruption. He
+dipped his finger in the holy water, crossed himself, made a brief
+reverence before the grand altar, and went towards his confessional. At
+least he had not come for nothing. A penitent was waiting.
+
+
+III.
+
+A male penitent! a rare and exceptional thing at Saint Medard. But,
+distinguishing by the red light of the lamp hanging from the roof of the
+chapel the short white jacket and the heavy nailed shoes of the kneeling
+man, the Abbe Faber believed him to be some workman who had kept his
+rustic faith and his early habits of religious observance. Without doubt
+the confession that he was about to hear would be as stupid as that of
+the cook of the Rue Monge, who, after having accused himself of petty
+thefts, exclaimed loudly against a single word of restitution. The
+priest even smiled to himself as he remembered the formal confession of
+one of the inhabitants of the faubourg, who came to ask for a billet of
+confession that he might marry. "I have neither killed or robbed. Ask me
+about the rest." And so the vicar entered very tranquilly into his
+confessional, and, after having taken a copious pinch of snuff, opened
+without emotion the little curtain of green serge which closed the
+wicket.
+
+"Monsieur le cure," stammered a rough voice, which was making an effort
+to speak low.
+
+"I am not a cure, my friend. Say your _confiteor_, and call me father."
+
+The man, whose face the abbe could not see among the shadows, stumbled
+through the prayer, which he seemed to have great difficulty in
+recalling, and he began again in a hoarse whisper:
+
+"Monsieur le cure--no--my father--excuse me if I do not speak properly,
+but I have not been to confession for twenty-five years--no, not since I
+quitted the country--you know how it is--a man in Paris, and yet I have
+not been worse than other people, and I have said to myself, 'God must
+be a good sort of fellow.' But to-day what I have on my conscience is
+too heavy to carry alone, and you must hear me, monsieur le cure: I
+have killed a man!"
+
+The abbe half rose from his seat. A murderer! There was no longer any
+question of his mind wandering from the duties of his office, of half
+annoyance at the garrulity of the old women, to whom he listened with a
+half attentive ear, and whom he absolved in all confidence. A murderer!
+That head which was so near his had conceived and planned such a crime!
+Those hands, crossed on the confessional, were perhaps still stained
+with blood! In his trouble, perhaps not unmixed with a certain amount of
+fear, the Abbe Faber could only speak mechanically.
+
+"Confess yourself, my son. The mercy of God is infinite."
+
+"Listen to my whole story," said the man, with a voice trembling with
+profound grief. "I am a workingman, and I came to Paris more than twenty
+years ago with a fellow-countryman, a companion from childhood. We
+robbed birds'-nests, and we learned to read in school together--almost a
+brother, sir. He was called Philip; I am called Jack, myself. He was a
+fine big fellow; I have always been heavy and ill-formed. There was
+never a better workman than he--while I am only a 'botcher'--and so
+generous and good-natured, wearing his heart on his sleeve. I was proud
+to be his friend, to walk by his side--proud when he clapped me on the
+back and called me a clumsy fellow. I loved him because I admired him,
+in fact. Once here, what an opportunity! We worked together for the same
+employer, but he left me alone in the evenings more than half the time.
+He preferred to amuse himself with his companions--natural enough, at
+his age. He loved pleasure, he was free, he had no responsibilities. All
+this was impossible for me. I was forced to save my money, for at that
+time I had an invalid mother in the country, and I sent her all my
+savings. As for me, I stayed at the fruiterer's where I lodged, and who
+kept a lodging-house for masons. Philip did not dine there; he used to
+go somewhere else, and, to tell the truth, the dinners were not
+particularly good. But the fruiterer was a widow, far from happy, and I
+saw that my payments were of help to her; and then, to be frank, I fell
+at once in love with her daughter. Poor Catherine! You will soon know,
+monsieur le cure, what came from it all. I was there three years
+without daring to tell her of the love I had for her. I have told you
+that I am not a good workman, and the little that I gained hardly
+sufficed for me and for the support of my mother. There could be no
+thought of marrying. At last my good mother left this world for a
+better. I was somewhat less pressed for money, and I began to save, and
+when it seemed to me that I had enough to begin with, I told Catherine
+of my love. She said nothing at first--neither yes nor no. Well, I knew
+that no one would fall upon my neck; I am not attractive. In the mean
+time Catherine consulted her mother, who thought well of me as a steady
+workman, as a good fellow, and the marriage was decided upon. Ah, I had
+some happy weeks! I saw that Catherine barely accepted me, and that she
+was by no means carried away with me; but as she had a good heart, I
+hoped that she would love me some day--I would make her love me. As a
+matter of course, I told everything to Philip, whom I saw every day at
+the work-yard, and as Catherine and I were engaged, I wanted him to meet
+her. Perhaps you have already guessed the end, monsieur le cure. Philip
+was handsome, lively, good-tempered--everything that I was not; and
+without attempting it, innocently enough, he fascinated Catherine. Ah,
+Catherine had a frank and honest heart, and as soon as she recognized
+what had happened she at once told me everything. Ah, I can never forget
+that moment! It was Catherine's birthday, and in honor of it I had
+bought a little cross of gold which I had arranged in a box with cotton.
+We were alone in the back shop, and she had just brought me my soup. I
+took my box from my pocket, and, opening it, I showed her the jewel.
+Then she burst into tears.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"'Forgive me, Jack,' she said, 'and keep that for her whom you will
+marry. As for me, I can never become your wife. I love another--I love
+Philip.'
+
+
+IV.
+
+"Believe me, I had trouble enough then, monsieur le cure; my soul was
+full of it. But what could I do, since I loved them both? Only what I
+believed was for their happiness--let them marry. And as Philip had
+always lived freely, and spent as he made, I lent him my hoard to buy
+the furniture.
+
+"Then they were married, and for a while all went well. They had a
+little boy, and I stood sponsor for him and named him Camille, in
+remembrance of his mother. It was a little after the birth of the baby
+that Philip began to go wrong. I was mistaken in him--he was not made
+for marriage; he was too fond of frivolity and pleasure. You live in a
+poor quarter, monsieur le cure, and you must know the sad story by
+heart--the workman who glides little by little from idleness into
+drunkenness, who is off on a spree for two or three days, who does not
+bring home his week's wages, and who only returns to his home, broken up
+by his spree, to make scenes and to beat his wife. In less than two
+years Philip became one of these wretches. At first I tried to reform
+him, and sometimes, ashamed of himself, he would attempt to do better;
+but that did not last long. Then my remonstrances only irritated him;
+and when I went to his house, and he saw me look sadly around the
+chamber made bare by the pawn-shop, at poor Catherine, thin and pale
+with grief, he became furious. One day he had the audacity to be jealous
+of me on account of his wife, who was as pure as the blessed Virgin,
+reminding me that I was once her lover and accusing me of still being
+so, with slanders and infamies that I should be ashamed to repeat. We
+almost flew at each other's throats. I saw what I must do. I would see
+Catherine and my godson no more; and as for Philip, I would only meet
+him when by chance we worked on the same job.
+
+"Only, you will understand, I loved Catherine and little Camille too
+well to lose sight of them entirely. On Saturday evenings, when I knew
+that Philip was drinking up his wages with his comrades, I used to prowl
+about the quarter, and chat with the boy when I found him; and if it was
+too miserable at home, he did not return with empty hands, you know. I
+believe that the wretched Philip knew that I was helping his wife, and
+that he closed his eyes to the fact, finding it rather convenient. I
+will hurry on, for the story is too miserable. Some years have passed;
+Philip plunging deeper in vice; but Catherine, whom I had helped all I
+could, has educated her son, who is now a fellow of twenty years, good
+and courageous like herself. He is not a workman; he is educated; he has
+learned to draw at the evening schools, and he is now with an architect,
+where he gets good wages. And though the house is saddened by the
+presence of the drunkard, things go fairly well, for Camille is a great
+comfort to his mother; and for a year or two, when I see Catherine--she
+is so changed, the poor woman!--leaning on the arm of her manly son, it
+warms my heart.
+
+"But yesterday evening, coming out of my cook-shop, I met Camille; and
+shaking hands with him--oh, he is not ashamed of me, and he doesn't
+blush at a blouse covered with plaster--I saw that something was the
+matter.
+
+"'Let's see--what's the matter now?'
+
+"'I drew the lot yesterday,' he replied, 'and I drew the number ten--a
+number that sends you to die with fever in the colonies with the
+marines. That will, at all events, send me there for five years, to
+leave mother alone, without resources, with father, who has never been
+drinking so much, who has never been so wicked. And it will kill her--it
+will kill her! How cursed it is to be poor!'
+
+"Oh, what a horrible night I passed! Think of it, monsieur le cure,
+that poor woman's labor for twenty years destroyed in a minute by an
+unhappy chance; because a child, rummaging in a sack, has drawn an
+unfortunate number! In the morning I was broken as by age when I went to
+the house we were building on the Boulevard Arago. Of what use is
+sorrow? we must work all the same. So I mounted the scaffolding. We had
+already built the house to the fourth story, and I began to place my
+mortar. Suddenly I felt some one strike me on the shoulder. It was
+Philip. He only worked now when the inclination seized him, and he was
+apparently putting in a day's work to get something to drink; but the
+builder, having a forfeit to pay if the building was not finished by a
+certain date, accepted the first-comers.
+
+
+V.
+
+"I had not seen Philip for a long time, and it was with difficulty that
+I recognized him. Burned and fevered by brandy, his beard gray, his
+hands trembling, he was more than an old man--he was a ruin.
+
+"'Well,' I said to him, 'the boy has drawn a bad number.'
+
+"'What of it?' he replied, with an angry look. 'Are you going to worry
+me about that, too, like Catherine and Camille? The boy will do as
+others have done: he will serve his country. I know what worries them,
+both my wife and son. If I were dead he would not have to go. But, so
+much the worse for them, I am still solid at my post, and Camille is not
+the son of a widow.'
+
+"The son of a widow! Ah, monsieur le cure, why did he use that unhappy
+phrase? The evil thought came to me at once, and it never quitted me all
+the morning that I worked at the wretch's side. I imagined all that she
+was about to suffer--poor Catherine!--when she no longer had her son to
+care for and protect her, and she must be alone with the miserable
+drunkard, now completely brutalized, ugly, and capable of anything. A
+neighboring clock struck eleven, and the workmen all descended to lunch.
+We remained until the last, Philip and I, but in stepping on the ladder
+to descend, he turned to me with a leer, and said, in his hoarse,
+dissipated voice:
+
+"'You see, steady as a sailor; Camille is not nearly the son of a
+widow.'
+
+"The blood mounted to my head. I was beside myself. I seized with both
+hands the rounds of the ladder to which Philip clung shouting 'Help!'
+and with a single effort I toppled it over.
+
+"He was instantly killed--by an accident, they said--and now Camille is
+the son of a widow and need not go.
+
+"That is what I have done, monsieur le cure, and what I want to tell to
+you and to the good God. I repent, I ask pardon, of course; but I must
+not see Catherine in her black dress, happy on the arm of her son, or I
+could not regret my crime. To prevent that I will emigrate--I will lose
+myself in America. As to my penance--see, monsieur le cure, here is the
+little cross of gold that Catherine refused when she told me that she
+was in love with Philip. I have always kept it, in memory of the only
+happy days that I ever knew in my life. Take it and sell it. Give the
+money to the poor."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Jack rose absolved by the Abbe Faber.
+
+One thing is certain, and that is that the priest never sold the little
+cross of gold. After having paid its price into the Treasury of the
+Church, he hung the jewel, as an _ex-voto_, on the altar of the chapel
+of the Virgin, where he often went to pray for the poor mason.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE SABOTS OF LITTLE WOLFF.
+
+[Illustration: The Sabots of little Wolff.
+
+(a Christmas Story).]
+
+
+Once upon a time--it was so long ago that the whole world has forgotten
+the date--in a city in the north of Europe--whose name is so difficult
+to pronounce that nobody remembers it--once upon a time there was a
+little boy of seven, named Wolff, an orphan in charge of an old aunt who
+was hard and avaricious, who only embraced him on New-Year's Day, and
+who breathed a sigh of regret every time that she gave him a porringer
+of soup.
+
+But the poor little chap was naturally so good that he loved the old
+woman just the same, although she frightened him very much, and he could
+never see without trembling the great wart, ornamented with four gray
+hairs, which she had on the end of her nose.
+
+As the aunt of Wolff was known through all the village to have a house
+and an old stocking full of gold, she did not dare send her nephew to
+the school for the poor. But she so schemed to obtain a reduction of the
+price with the school-master whose school little Wolff attended, that
+the bad teacher, vexed at having a scholar so badly dressed and who paid
+so poorly, punished him very often and unjustly with the backboard and
+fool's cap, and even stirred his fellow-pupils against him, all sons of
+well-to-do men, who made the orphan their scapegoat.
+
+The poor little fellow was therefore as miserable as the stones in the
+street, and hid himself in out-of-the-way corners to cry; when Christmas
+came.
+
+The night before Christmas the school-master was to take all of his
+pupils to the midnight mass, and bring them back to their homes.
+
+Now, as the winter was very severe that year, and as for several days a
+great quantity of snow had fallen, the scholars came to the rendezvous
+warmly wrapped and bundled up, with fur caps pulled down over their
+ears, double and triple jackets, knitted gloves and mittens, and good
+thick nailed boots with strong soles. Only little Wolff came shivering
+in the clothes that he wore week-days and Sundays, and with nothing on
+his feet but coarse Strasbourg socks and heavy sabots, or wooden shoes.
+
+His thoughtless comrades made a thousand jests over his sad looks and
+his peasant's dress. But the orphan was so occupied in blowing on his
+fingers, and suffered so much from his chilblains, that he took no
+notice of them; and the troop of boys, with the master at their head,
+started for the church.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+It was fine in the church, which was resplendent with wax-candles; and
+the scholars, excited by the pleasant warmth, profited by the noise of
+the organ and the singing to talk to each other in a low voice. They
+boasted of the fine suppers that were waiting for them at home. The son
+of the burgomaster had seen, before he went out, a monstrous goose that
+the truffles marked with black spots like a leopard. At the house of the
+first citizen there was a little fir-tree in a wooden box, from whose
+branches hung oranges, sweetmeats, and toys. And the cook of the first
+citizen had pinned behind her back the two strings of her cap, as she
+only did on her days of inspiration when she was sure of succeeding with
+her famous sugar-candy. And then the scholars spoke, too, of what the
+Christ-child would bring to them, of what he would put in their shoes,
+which they would, of course, be very careful to leave in the chimney
+before going to bed. And the eyes of those little chaps, lively as a
+parcel of mice, sparkled in advance with the joy of seeing in their
+imagination pink paper bags of burnt almonds, lead soldiers drawn up in
+battalions in their boxes, menageries smelling of varnished wood, and
+magnificent jumping-jacks covered with purple and bells.
+
+Little Wolff knew very well by experience that his old miserly aunt
+would send him supperless to bed. But in the simplicity of his soul, and
+knowing that he had been all the year as good and industrious as
+possible, he hoped that the Christ-child would not forget him, and he,
+too, looked eagerly forward by-and-by to putting his wooden shoes in the
+ashes of the fireplace.
+
+The midnight mass concluded, the faithful went away, anxious for supper,
+and the band of scholars, walking two by two after their teacher, left
+the church.
+
+Now, under the porch, sitting on a stone seat under a Gothic niche, a
+child was sleeping--a child covered by a robe of white linen, and whose
+feet were bare, notwithstanding the cold. He was not a beggar, for his
+robe was new and nice, and near him on the ground were seen, lying in a
+cloth, a square, a hatchet, a pair of compasses, and the other tools of
+a carpenter's apprentice. Under the light of the stars, his face, with
+its closed eyes, bore an expression of divine sweetness, and his long
+locks of golden hair seemed like an _aureole_ about his head. But the
+child's feet, blue in the cold of that December night, were sad to see.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The scholars, so well clothed and shod for the winter, passed heedlessly
+before the unknown child. One of them, even, the son of one of the
+principal men in the village, looked at the waif with an expression in
+which could be seen all the scorn of the rich for the poor, the well-fed
+for the hungry.
+
+But little Wolff, coming the last out of the church, stopped, full of
+compassion, before the beautiful sleeping infant.
+
+"Alas!" said the orphan to himself, "it is too bad: this poor little one
+going barefoot in such bad weather. But what is worse than all, he has
+not to-night even a boot or a wooden shoe to leave before him while he
+sleeps, so that the Christ-child could put something there to comfort
+him in his misery."
+
+And, carried away by the goodness of his heart, little Wolff took off
+the wooden shoe from his right foot, and laid it in front of the
+sleeping child; and then, as best he could, limping along on his poor
+blistered foot and dragging his sock through the snow, he went back to
+his aunt's.
+
+"Look at the worthless fellow!" cried his aunt, full of anger at his
+return without one of his shoes. "What have you done with your wooden
+shoe, little wretch?"
+
+Little Wolff did not know how to deceive, and although he was shaking
+with terror at seeing the gray hairs bristle up on the nose of the angry
+woman, he tried to stammer out some account of his adventure.
+
+But the old woman burst into a frightful peal of laughter.
+
+"Ah, monsieur takes off his shoes for beggars! Ah, monsieur gives away
+his wooden shoe to a barefoot! That is something new for example! Ah,
+well, since that is so, I am going to put the wooden shoe which you have
+left in the chimney, and I promise you the Christ-child will leave there
+to-night something to whip you with in the morning. And you shall pass
+the day to-morrow on dry bread and water. We will see if next time you
+give away your shoes to the first vagabond that comes."
+
+And the wicked woman, after having given the poor boy a couple of slaps,
+made him climb up to his bed in the attic. Grieved to the heart, the
+child went to bed in the dark, and soon went to sleep on his pillow
+steeped with tears.
+
+But on the morrow morning, when the old woman, awakened by the cold and
+shaken by her cough, went down stairs--oh, wonderful sight!--she saw the
+great chimney full of beautiful playthings, and sacks of magnificent
+candies, and all sorts of good things; and before all these splendid
+things the right shoe, that her nephew had given to the little waif,
+stood by the side of the left shoe, that she herself had put there that
+very night, and where she meant to put a birch-rod.
+
+And as little Wolff, running down to learn the meaning of his aunt's
+exclamation, stood in artless ecstasy before all these splendid
+Christmas presents, suddenly there were loud cries of laughter
+out-of-doors. The old woman and the little boy went out to know what it
+all meant, and saw all the neighbors gathered around the public
+fountain. What had happened? Oh, something very amusing and very
+extraordinary. The children of all the rich people of the village, those
+whose parents had wished to surprise them by the most beautiful gifts,
+had found only rods in their shoes.
+
+Then the orphan and the old woman, thinking of all the beautiful things
+that were in their chimney, were full of amazement. But presently they
+saw the cure coming with wonder in his face. Above the seat, placed
+near the door of the church, at the same place where in the evening a
+child, clad in a white robe, and with feet bare notwithstanding the
+cold, had rested his sleeping head, the priest had just seen a circle of
+gold incrusted with precious stones.
+
+And they all crossed themselves devoutly, comprehending that the
+beautiful sleeping child, near whom were the carpenter's tools, was
+Jesus of Nazareth in person, become for an hour such as he was when he
+worked in his parents' house, and they bowed themselves before that
+miracle that the good God had seen fit to work, to reward the faith and
+charity of a child.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE FOSTER SISTER.
+
+[Illustration: THE FOSTER SISTER]
+
+
+I.
+
+Sitting in her office at the end of the shop, shut off from it by glass
+windows, pretty Madame Bayard, in a black gown and with her hair in
+sober braids, was writing steadily in an enormous ledger with leather
+corners, while her husband, following his morning custom, stopped at the
+door to scold his workmen, who had not finished unloading a dray from
+the Northern Railway, which blocked the road, and carried to the
+druggist of the Rue Vieille du Temple a dozen casks of glucose.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"I have bad news to tell you," said Madame Bayard, sticking her pen in a
+cup of leaden shot, when her husband had entered the glass cage. "Poor
+Voisin is dead."
+
+"The nurse of Leon? Poor woman! And her little daughter?"
+
+"That is the saddest part, my dear. A relative of poor Voisin writes me
+that they are too poor to take charge of the child, and she must be sent
+to an orphan asylum."
+
+"Oh, those peasants!"
+
+The druggist was silent for a moment, rubbing his thick blond beard;
+then suddenly looking at his wife with kindly eyes:
+
+"Say, Mimi, the child is the foster sister of our Leon. Suppose we give
+her a home?"
+
+"I should think so," was the quiet reply of the pretty wife.
+
+"Well done," cried Bayard, as, caring little if he were seen by his
+clerks and store-boys, he leaned towards his wife and kissed her
+forehead, "well done! you're a good woman, Mimi. We will take little
+Norine with us, and bring her up with Leon. That won't ruin us, eh?
+Besides, I have just made a good stroke in quinine. We will go after the
+child Sunday to Argenteuil, sha'n't we?"
+
+"We will make that our Sunday excursion."
+
+
+II.
+
+Good people, these Bayards; an honor to the drug trade. Their marriage
+had united two houses which had been for a long time rivals; for Bayard
+was the son of _The Silver Pill_, founded by his great-great-grandfather
+in 1756 in the Rue Vieille du Temple, and had espoused the daughter of
+the _Offering to Esculapius_, of the Rue des Lombards, an establishment
+which dated from the First Empire, as was shown by the sign, copied from
+the celebrated painting of Guerin. Honest people, excellent people--and
+there are many more, like them, whatever folks may say, among the older
+Paris houses, conservators of old traditions; going to the second tier,
+on Sunday, at the opera comique, and ignorant of false weights and
+measures. It was the cure of Blancs-Manteaux who had managed that
+marriage with his confrere of Saint-Merry. The first had ministered at
+the death-bed of the elder Bayard, and was dismayed to see a young man
+of twenty-five all alone in a house so gloomy as that of _The Silver
+Pill_, justly famed for its ipecac; and the second was anxious to
+establish Mademoiselle Simonin, to whom he had administered her first
+communion, and whose father was one of his most important parishioners,
+old Simonin of the _Offering to Esculapius_, celebrated for its camphor.
+The negotiations were successful; camphor and ipecac, two excellent
+specialties, were united in the holy bonds of matrimony, there was a
+dinner and ball at the Grand Vefour, and now for ten years, tranquilly
+working every day, summer and winter, in her glass cage, Madame Bayard,
+with her pale brown face and her plaited hair, had smitten the hearts of
+all the young clerks of the quarter Sainte-Croix de la Bretonnerie.
+
+And yet for a long time there had been a disappointment in that happy
+household, a cloud in that bright sky. An heir was wanted, and it was
+five years before little Leon came into the world. One can imagine with
+what joy he was received. Now one day they might write over the door of
+_The Silver Pill_ these words, "Bayard & Son." But as the infant arrived
+at the time of a boom in isinglass, Madame Bayard, whose presence in the
+shop was indispensable, could not think of nursing him. She even gave up
+the idea of taking a nurse in the house, fearing for the new-born the
+close air of that corner of old Paris, and contented herself with taking
+every Sunday with her husband a little excursion to Argenteuil to see
+her son with his nurse Voisin, who was overwhelmed with coffee, sugar,
+soap, and other dainties. At the end of eighteen months Mother Voisin
+brought back the baby in a magnificent state, and for two years a
+child's nurse, chosen with great care, had taken the child out for his
+airings in the square of the Tour Saint-Jacques, and had exhibited for
+the admiration of her companion-nurses, the pouting lips, the high
+color, and the dimpled back of the future druggist.
+
+And now these good Bayards, learning of the death of Mother Voisin,
+could not bear the thought that the little girl who had been nourished
+at the same breast with their boy should be abandoned to public charity,
+so they went to Argenteuil for Norine.
+
+Poor little one! Since the fifteen days that her mother slept in the
+cemetery she had been taken charge of by a cousin who kept a
+billiard-saloon; and though she was not yet five years old, she had been
+put to work washing the beer-glasses.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The Bayards found her charming, with great eyes as blue as the summer
+sun, and her thick blond tresses escaping from her ugly black bonnet.
+Leon, who had been brought with his nurse, embraced his foster sister;
+and the cousin, who that very morning had boxed the orphan's ears for
+negligence in sweeping out the hall, appeared before the Parisians to be
+as much touched as if parting with Norine was a heart-breaking affair.
+
+The order for an ample breakfast restored his serenity.
+
+It was a beautiful Sunday in June, and they were in the country--"an
+occasion which should be improved," declared Bayard, "by taking the air;
+shouldn't it, Mimi?"
+
+And while pretty Madame Bayard, having pinned up her skirts, went out
+with the children and the nurse to pick flowers in a neighboring field,
+the druggist, who was less ambitious, treated the saloon-keeping cousin
+to a glass of vermouth, seated at the billiard-table, which was covered
+with dead flies. They breakfasted under a vineless arbor, which the hot
+noonday sun riddled with its rays. But what of that? They were pleased
+and contented all the same. Madame Bayard had hung her hat on the
+lattice; and her husband, wearing a bargeman's straw helmet, which had
+been lent to him by the saloon-keeper, cut up the duck in the best of
+spirits. Little Leon and Norine, who had immediately become the best of
+friends, emptied the salad-bowl of its cream-cheese. Then they all
+romped in the grass, went boating on the stream, and, intoxicated with
+the fresh country air, the indwellers of the city, coming from the close
+Paris streets, pushed to its fullest extreme this idyl in the fashion of
+Paul de Kock.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+For, yes; there was a moment, as they came back in the boat, in a
+delicious sunset, when tinted clouds floated in a glowing sky, when
+Madame Bayard--the serious Madame Bayard--whose frown turned to stone
+the shop-boys of the druggist, sang the air called "To the Shores of
+France," to the rhythmic fall of the oars, plied by her husband in his
+shirt-sleeves. They dined in the arbor where they had breakfasted, but
+the second repast was a shade less happy. The night-moths, which dashed
+in to burn themselves at the candles, frightened the children; and
+Madame Bayard was so tired that she could not even guess the simple
+rebus on her dessert napkin.
+
+Never mind; it has been a good day; and on their return in a first-class
+carriage--this was not a time for petty economies--Madame Bayard, with
+her head on her husband's shoulder, watching Leon and Norine, limp with
+sleep on the lap of the nurse, half asleep herself, murmured to her
+husband, in a happy voice:
+
+"See, Ferdinand; we have done well to take the little one. She will be a
+comrade for Leon. They will be like brother and sister."
+
+
+III.
+
+In fact, they did thus grow up together.
+
+They were most kind-hearted people, these Bayards. They made no
+difference between the humble orphan and their own dear boy, who would
+one day in the firm of "Bayard & Son" work monopolies in rhubarb and
+corners in castor-oil; indeed, they loved as their own child little
+Norine, who was as intelligent as she was charming, as fair in mind as
+she was delicate in body.
+
+Now the nurse took the two children to the square of the Tour
+Saint-Jacques when the weather was pleasant, and in the evening at the
+family table there were two high-chairs side by side for the boy and his
+foster sister.
+
+In addition to which, the Bayards were not slow to perceive the good
+influence which Norine had upon Leon. Quicker, of a more nervous
+temperament, more easy of comprehension than the lymphatic boy, whose
+wits were "wool-gathering," according to his father, she seemed to
+communicate to him something of her own spirit and fire. "She jogs him
+up," said Madame Bayard.
+
+And since he had lived with his foster sister Leon had perceptibly grown
+brighter and quicker. When they were of an age to learn to read, Leon,
+who made but little progress, and stumbled along with one of those
+alphabets with pictures where the letter E is by the side of an elephant
+and the letter Z by the side of a zouave, was the despair of his mother.
+But as soon as Norine, who in a very short time learned to spell and
+read, came to the aid of the little man, he immediately made rapid
+progress.
+
+So things went on, until both children were sent to a school for little
+children kept by a gentlewoman named Merlin, in the Rue de l'Homme
+Arme. According to the fallacious circular which Mademoiselle Merlin
+sent to the folks of the quarter, there was a garden--that is to say,
+four broomsticks in a sandy court; and it was there, the first day
+during recess, that the innocent Leon burst into cries of terror when he
+saw the school-mistress, forced by some accident to interrupt her
+knitting, stick one of her great knitting-needles in her capacious
+head-dress. A "senior," who was more familiar with her head-dress,
+explained the phenomenon in vain to Leon and Norine, for the boy, none
+the less, preserved in the presence of Mademoiselle Merlin an impression
+of superstitious terror.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+She would have paralyzed his infant faculties, and have prevented him in
+the class from following the pointer of Mademoiselle Merlin, as she
+sniffled through her sing-song lecture before the map of Europe, or the
+table of weights and measures, if Norine had not been there to reassure
+and encourage him. She was at once the first scholar in the school, and
+became for slow and lazy Leon a sort of sisterly counsellor and
+affectionate under-teacher. Towards four o'clock Madame Bayard had the
+two children, whom the nurse had brought back to the store, placed near
+her in the glass office; and Norine, opening a copy-book or a book,
+explained to Leon the uncomprehended task or made him repeat the lesson
+that he had not understood.
+
+"The good God has rewarded us," Madame Bayard sometimes whispered to her
+husband in the evening. "That little Norine is a treasure, and so good,
+so industrious! Only to-day I listened to her helping Leon again. I
+believe that without her he would never have learned the
+multiplication-table."
+
+"I believe you, Mimi," responded Bayard. "I have observed it. Things go
+on marvellously well with us, and we will portion her and marry her,
+shall we not, when she comes to a suitable age?"
+
+
+IV.
+
+Age comes--ah, how fast age comes! And behold! now in the glass cage of
+the shop there is a slender and beautiful young girl sitting at the side
+of Madame Bayard, who already shows some silver threads in her black
+bands. It is Norine now who writes in the great ledger with leather
+corners, while her adopted mother plies her needles on some embroidery.
+
+Seven o'clock! Time that they came home, and the shop must be closed
+against the November wind which is twisting and turning the flames of
+the gas-jets.
+
+Look at them now: Bayard grown stout, portly, and covered with trinkets,
+while Leon, who has just entered the first class in pharmacy, has
+actually become a fine-looking young fellow.
+
+"Good-day, Mimi; good-day, Norine! Let us go right in to dinner. I will
+tell you all the news while we are eating the soup," said the druggist.
+
+They went up to the dining-room, and while Madame Bayard, sitting under
+a barometer in the shape of a lyre, served the thick soup, Bayard,
+tucking his napkin in his vest and regarding his wife with a knowing
+look, said,
+
+"You know it is all right."
+
+"The Forgets agree?"
+
+"Exactly; and Leon will espouse Hortense in six months, and our
+daughter-in-law will come and live with us. Yes, Norine, you have known
+nothing about it, because one does not speak of such things before young
+girls; but for more than a year Leon has been in love with Hortense
+Forget, and has been teasing us to arrange the marriage--not such a
+difficult thing after all, since it only required a word. Leon is a good
+catch. The only difficulty was that we wanted to keep our son with us.
+At last it is all arranged, and your foster brother will have the wife
+he wants. I hope you are pleased."
+
+"Very much pleased," replied Norine.
+
+Oh, deaf and blind! They never heard the voice of Norine when she
+replied to them--that low, pathetic tone, which is the echo of a broken
+heart. Nor did they see how pale she became, and that her head, suddenly
+grown heavy, swayed from side to side as if Norine were about to faint.
+They saw nothing, comprehended nothing; and for a long time they had
+seen and comprehended nothing. Yet they dearly loved this Norine, who
+was the grace, the charm of the house. They dreamed, these good people,
+of marrying her one of these days to their head-clerk, a widower of
+prudent and economical habits, and "all that is necessary to make a
+woman happy." Leon loved her, too, with all his heart; but as a dear,
+good sister. Nor did the great spoiled boy suspect that Norine loved
+him, and suffered from her love--aye, to death itself. No; even that
+evening, when they had unconsciously inflicted upon her the worst of
+torture, they never suspected the truth; and they would sleep
+peacefully, indulging in beautiful dreams of the future, at the very
+hour when, shut in her chamber--the chamber separated by such a thin
+partition from that of her adopted parents--Norine would fall upon her
+bed, fainting with grief, and bury her head in her pillow to stifle her
+sobs.
+
+
+V.
+
+The ball is finished; and in the empty rooms the candles, burned to the
+very end, have broken some of the sconces and the fragments lie upon the
+waxed floors.
+
+The Bayards have insisted that the wedding should be celebrated at their
+house; but by the aid of many flowers (it is midsummer) they have given
+a holiday appearance to the apartment in the Rue Vieille du Temple where
+they have triumphantly installed their daughter-in-law.
+
+At last it is finished; the young couple have retired to their nuptial
+chamber, where Madame Bayard has gone for a moment with them. Coming out
+she found Norine still in the little salon, helping the servants
+extinguish the lights. She embraced the young girl tenderly, saying,
+
+"Go to bed, my child. You must be very tired." And she added, with a
+smile, "Well, it will be your turn before long."
+
+And Norine was at last alone in the room, now so gloomy, and lighted
+only by her single candle resting on the piano.
+
+Heavens! how heavy was the odor of the flowers, and how her head ached.
+
+Ah, that horrible day! What torment she had endured since the moment
+when she knelt, impressed into service as a lady's-maid, with pins in
+her lips, at the feet of her rival Hortense, and arranged her white
+satin train, to the hour when Leon, holding his wife by the waist, drew
+her towards her, Norine, and the lips of the young couple met almost
+upon her very forehead!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Oh, the odor of the flowers is insupportable, and she is so giddy and
+faint.
+
+She fell upon a sofa, unnerved by a frightful headache, her head thrown
+back, clasping her forehead with her two hands, but with open eyes
+staring always at the door--the door of that chamber which was shut upon
+the young couple, closed upon the mystery which was breaking her heart.
+A sort of delirium overwhelmed her. How the heavy perfume of those
+flowers overpowered her, and how a thousand memories assailed her at
+once. She was a child again in the saloon at Argenteuil, and the kind
+Parisians came and caressed her. She was embraced by the dear little boy
+wearing a white plume in his hat. Rapid pictures flashed upon her soul.
+The _pension_ of the Rue de l'Homme Arme, and Mademoiselle Merlin, with
+her knitting-needle stuck in her head-dress, pointed with the end of her
+stick to the table of weights and measures. The drug-store on Sundays,
+all dark, the shutters closed, and she playing catch with Leon among the
+barrels and sacks.
+
+Good God! was she losing her head? She could not help humming that
+waltz, during which Leon once held her in his arms. She was stifled. Oh,
+the flowers! She must go out, or at least open a window. But she could
+not rise; her strength had deserted her. Could she die thus? Two iron
+fingers seemed to be pressing her temples. Oh, the roses and the
+orange-flowers--those orange-flowers above all!
+
+At last she made a great effort. She rose upright and pale--pale as her
+white robe. But suddenly her strength left her, and falling first upon
+her knees, and then with her head and shoulders upon the wood floor,
+poor Norine lay stretched at the threshold of the bridal chamber, killed
+by disappointed love and by the flowers.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+MY FRIEND MEURTRIER.
+
+[Illustration: MY FRIEND MEURTIER]
+
+
+I.
+
+I was at one time employed in a government office. Every day from ten
+o'clock until four I became a voluntary prisoner in a depressing office,
+adorned with yellow pasteboard boxes, and filled with the musty odor of
+old papers. There I lunched on Italian cheese and apples which I roasted
+at the grate. I read the morning papers, even to the advertisements; I
+rhymed verses, and I attended to the affairs of state to the extent of
+drawing at the end of each month a salary which barely kept me from
+starving.
+
+I recall to-day one of my companions in captivity at that epoch.
+
+He was called Achille Meurtrier, and certainly his fierce look and tall
+form seemed to warrant that name. He was a great big fellow, about forty
+years old, not too much chest or shoulders, but who increased his
+apparent size by wearing felt hats with wide brims, ample and short
+coats, large plaid trousers, and neckties of a sanguine red under
+rolling collars. He wore a full beard, long hair, and was very proud of
+his hairy hands.
+
+The chief boast of Meurtrier, otherwise the best and most amiable of
+companions, was to trifle with an athletic constitution, to possess the
+biceps of a prize-fighter, and, as he said himself, not to know his own
+strength. He never made a gesture, even in the exercise of his peaceful
+profession, that did not have for its object to convince the spectators
+of his prodigious vigor. Did he have to take from its case a half-empty
+pasteboard box, he advanced towards the shelf with the heavy step of a
+street porter, grasped the box solidly with a tight hand, and carried it
+with a stiff arm as far as the next table, with a shrugging of shoulders
+and frowning of brow worthy of Milo of Crotona. He carried this manner
+so far that he never used less apparent effort even to lift the lightest
+objects, and one day when he held in his right hand a basket of old
+papers I saw him extend his left arm horizontally as if to make a
+counterpoise to the tremendous weight.
+
+I ought to say that this robust creature inspired me with a profound
+respect, for I was then, even more than to-day, physically weak and
+delicate, and in consequence filled with admiration for that energetic
+physique which I lacked.
+
+The conversations of Meurtrier were not of a nature to diminish the
+admiration with which he inspired me.
+
+In the summer, above all, on Monday mornings, when we had returned to
+the office after our Sunday holiday, he had an inexhaustible fund of
+stories concerning his adventures and feats of strength. After taking
+off his felt-hat, his coat, and his vest, and wiping the perspiration
+from his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt, to indicate his sanguine
+and ardent temperament, he would thrust his hands deep in the pockets of
+his trousers, and, standing near me in an attitude of perpendicular
+solidity, begin a monologue something as follows:
+
+"What a Sunday, my boy! Positively no fatigue can lay me up. Think of
+it: yesterday was the regatta at Joinville-le-Pont; at six o'clock in
+the morning the rendezvous at Bercy, at The Mariners, for the crew of
+the _Marsouin_; the sun is up; a glass of white wine and we jump into
+our rowing suits, seize an oar and give way--one-two, one-two--as far as
+Joinville; then overboard for a swim before breakfast--strip to swimming
+drawers, a jump overboard, and look out for squalls. After my bath I
+have the appetite of a tiger. Good! I seize the boat by one hand and I
+call out, 'Charpentier, pass me a small ham.' Three motions in one time
+and I have finished it to the bone. 'Charpentier, pass me the
+brandy-flask.' Three swallows and it is empty."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+So the description would continue--dazzling, Homeric.
+
+"It is the hour for the regatta--noon--the sun just overhead. The boats
+draw up in line on the sparkling river, before a tent gaudy with
+streamers. On the bank the mayor with his staff of office, gendarmes in
+yellow shoulder-belts, and a swarm of summer dresses, open parasols, and
+straw hats. Bang! the signal-gun is fired. The _Marsouin_ shoots ahead
+of all her competitors and easily gains the prize--and no fatigue! We go
+around Marne, and, returning, dine at Creteil. How cool the evening in
+the dusky arbor, where pipes glow through the darkness, and moths singe
+their wings in the flame of the _omelette au kirsch_. At the end of a
+dessert, served on decorated plates, we hear from the ball-room the call
+of the cornet--'Take places for the quadrille!' But already a rival
+crew, beaten that same morning, has monopolized the prettiest girls. A
+fight!--teeth broken, eyes blackened, ugly falls, and whacks below the
+belt; in a word, a poem of physical enthusiasm, of noisy hilarity, of
+animal spirits, without speaking of the return at midnight, through
+crowded stations, with girls whom we lift into the cars, friends
+separated calling from one end of the train to the other, and fellows
+playing a horn upon the roof."
+
+And the evenings of my astonishing companion were not less full of
+adventure than his Sundays. Collar-and-elbow wrestling in a tent, under
+the red light of torches, between him--simple amateur--and Du Bois, the
+iron man, in person; rat-chases near the mouths of sewers, with dogs as
+fierce as tigers; sanguinary encounters at night, in the most dangerous
+quarters, with ruffians and nose-eaters, were the most insignificant
+episodes of his nightly career. Nor do I dare relate other adventures of
+a more intimate character, from which, as the writers of an earlier day
+would say in noble style, a pen the least timorous would recoil with
+horror.
+
+However painful it may be to confess an unworthy sentiment, I am obliged
+to say that my admiration for Meurtrier was not unmixed with regret and
+bitterness. Perhaps there was mingled with it something of envy. But the
+recitation of his most marvellous exploits had never awakened in me the
+least feeling of incredulity, and Achille Meurtrier easily took his
+place in my mind among heroes and demigods, between Roland and
+Pirithous.
+
+
+II.
+
+At this time I was a great wanderer in the suburbs, and I occupied the
+leisure of my summer evenings by solitary walks in those distant
+regions, as unknown to the Parisians of the boulevards as the country of
+the Caribbees, and of whose sombre charm I endeavored later to tell in
+verse.
+
+One evening in July, hot and dusty, at the hour when the first
+gas-lights were beginning to twinkle in the misty twilight, I was
+walking slowly from Vaugirard through one of those long and depressing
+suburban streets lined on each side by houses of unequal height, whose
+porters and porteresses, in shirt sleeves and in calico, sat on the
+steps and imagined that they were taking the fresh air. Hardly any one
+passing in the whole street; perhaps, from end to end, a mason, white
+with plaster, a sergeant-de-ville, a child carrying home a four-pound
+loaf larger than himself, or a young girl hurrying on in hat and cloak,
+with a leather bag on her arm; and every quarter-hour the half-empty
+omnibus coming back to its place of departure with the heavy trot of its
+tired horses.
+
+Stumbling now and then on the pavement--for asphalt is an unknown luxury
+in these places--I went down the street, tasting all the delights of a
+stroller. Sometimes I stopped before a vacant lot to watch, through the
+broken boards of the fence, the fading glories of the setting sun and
+the black silhouettes of the chimneys thrown against a greenish sky.
+Sometimes, through an open window on the ground-floor, I caught sight of
+an interior, picturesque and familiar: here a jolly-looking laundress
+holding her flat-iron to her cheek; there workmen sitting at tables and
+smoking in the basement of a cabaret, while an old Bohemian with long
+gray hair, standing before them, sang something about "Liberty,"
+accompanying himself on a guitar about the color of bouillon--the scenes
+of Chardin and Van Ostade.
+
+Suddenly I stopped.
+
+One of these personal pictures had caught my eye by its domestic and
+charming simplicity.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+She looked so happy and peaceful in her quiet little room, the dear old
+lady in her black gown and widow's cap, leaning back in an easy-chair
+covered with green Utrecht velvet, and sitting quietly with her hands
+folded on her lap. Everything around her was so old and simple, and
+seemed to have been preserved, less through a wise economy than on
+account of hallowed memories, since the honey-moon with monsieur of the
+high complexion, in a frock-coat and flowered waistcoat, whose oval
+crayon ornamented the wall. By two lamps on the mantle-shelf every
+detail of the old-fashioned furniture could be distinguished, from the
+clock on a fish of artificial and painted marble to the old and
+antiquated piano, on which, without doubt, as a young girl, in
+leg-of-mutton sleeves and with hair dressed _a la Grecque_, she had
+played the airs of Romagnesi.
+
+Certainly a loved and only daughter, remaining unmarried through her
+affection for her mother, piously watched over the last years of the
+widow. It was she, I was sure, who had so tenderly placed her dear
+mother; she who had put the ottoman under her feet, she who had put near
+her the inlaid table, and arranged on it the waiter and two cups. I
+expected already to see her coming in carrying the evening coffee--the
+sweet, calm girl, who should be dressed in mourning like the widow, and
+resemble her very much.
+
+Absorbed by the contemplation of a scene so sympathetic, and by the
+pleasure of imagining that humble poem, I remained standing some steps
+from the open window, sure of not being noticed in the dusky street,
+when I saw a door open and there appeared--oh, how far he was from my
+thoughts at that moment--my friend Meurtrier himself, the formidable
+hero of tilts on the river and frays in unknown places.
+
+A sudden doubt crossed me. I felt that I was on the point of discovering
+a mystery.
+
+It was indeed he. His terrible hairy hand held a tiny silver coffee-pot,
+and he was followed by a poodle which greatly embarrassed his steps--a
+valiant and classic poodle, the poodle of blind clarionet-players, a
+poor beggar's poodle, a poodle clipped like a lion, with hairy ruffles
+on his four paws, and a white mustache like a general of the Gymnase.
+
+"Mamma," said the giant, in a tone of ineffable tenderness, "here is
+your coffee. I am sure that you will find it nice to-night. The water
+was boiling well, and I poured it on drop by drop."
+
+"Thank you," said the old lady, rolling her easy-chair to the table with
+an air; "thank you, my little Achille. Your dear father said many a time
+that there was not my equal at making coffee--he was so kind and
+indulgent, the dear, good man--but I begin to believe that you are even
+better than I."
+
+At that moment, and while Meurtrier was pouring out the coffee with all
+the delicacy of a young girl, the poodle, excited no doubt by the
+uncovered sugar, placed his forepaws on the lap of his mistress.
+
+"Down, Medor," she cried, with a benevolent indignation. "Did any one
+ever see such a troublesome animal? Look here, sir! you know very well
+that your master never fails to give you the last of his cup.
+By-the-way," added the widow, addressing her son, "you have taken the
+poor fellow out, have you not?"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Certainly, mamma," he replied, in a tone that was almost infantile. "I
+have just been to the creamery for your morning milk, and I put the
+leash and collar on Medor and took him with me."
+
+"And he has attended to all his little wants?"
+
+"Don't be disturbed. He doesn't want anything."
+
+Reassured on this point, important to canine hygiene, the good dame
+drank her coffee, between her son and her dog, who each regarded her
+with an inexpressible tenderness.
+
+It was assuredly unnecessary to see or hear more. I had already descried
+what a peaceful family life--upright, pure, and devoted--my friend
+Meurtrier hid under his chimerical gasconades. But the spectacle with
+which chance had favored me was at once so droll and so touching that I
+could not resist the temptation to watch for some moments longer. That
+indiscretion sufficed to show me the whole truth.
+
+Yes, this type of roisterers, who seemed to have stepped from one of the
+romances of Paul de Kock--this athlete, this despot of bar-rooms and
+public-houses--performed simply and courageously, in these lowly rooms
+in the suburbs, the sublime duties of a sister of charity. This intrepid
+oarsman had never made a longer voyage than to conduct his mother to
+mass or vespers every Sunday. This billiard expert knew only how to play
+bezique. This trainer of bull-dogs was the submissive slave of a
+poodle. This Mauvaise-Philibert was an Antigone.
+
+
+III.
+
+The next morning, on arriving at the office, I asked Meurtrier how he
+had employed the previous evening, and he instantly improvised, without
+a moment's hesitation, an account of a sharp encounter on the boulevard
+at two in the morning, when he had knocked down with a single blow of
+his fist, having passed his thumb through the ring of his keys, a
+terrible street rough. I listened, smiling ironically, and thinking to
+confound him; but remembering how respectable a virtue is which is
+hidden even under an absurdity, I struck him amicably on the shoulder,
+and said, with conviction:
+
+"Meurtrier, you are a hero!"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Ten Tales, by Francois Coppee
+
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