Paul and His Dog Volume I Part 53

"Oh! there's another one of the doctor's tales. You know, they say a lot of things like that in the country,--because Madame Droguet's a little quick, and when she first came here to live she used to give her servants a slap now and then; and they never failed to say that she boxed her husband's ears too, and kicked him in the rump, saving your presence, when he undertook to oppose her wishes; but that's all fiddle-faddle!--People saw that she was the mistress in her own house, that nothing was done there except by her orders, so they said: 'She must have been a vivandiere, she leads her husband about to the beat of the drum.'--This much is certain, that she's the one that runs the house and says what's to be done and undone, built and pulled down; the husband don't meddle in anything. That's why you hear people say 'Madame Droguet,' and never 'Monsieur Droguet!' But that just suits him; he seems to be satisfied so long as he can dance."

"Ah! so Monsieur Droguet is fond of dancing? How old is he, pray?"

"I guess he's close on to fifty-five; and his wife, too--she must be as old as he is, at least."

"Then she gives b.a.l.l.s so that her husband may dance?"

"I don't know whether she gives b.a.l.l.s, but she gives dinner-parties and she has lots of company. It seems that they live pretty well there. But she's sure to invite you; she invites all the swell people in the neighborhood."

"I don't know whether she will invite us," said Honorine with a smile; "but it would be a waste of time; for we do not dine out."

"Oh, well! if that's your idea, it's all right. If she invited me, I'd go; but I ain't enough of a bigwig."

"Are we almost there, Pere Ledrux?"

"It's just a little farther; Guillot's house--he's Poucette's uncle--is on the other side of the river. But this walk shows you something of Ch.e.l.les."

"Do we pa.s.s the ruins of the Abbey?"

"No, they ain't on our road; after all, you don't see anything of the Abbey; it's been made into a farm-house, and there isn't anything very interesting about it; there's only a few old walls left. But we're going to pa.s.s Monsieur Luminot's house. That's another nice one, I tell you; not so well kept as Madame Droguet's; but heaps of land behind: vineyards, arbors, and lots of white grapes."

"Isn't he the gentleman who went to call on the owner of the Tower, to invite him to dinner?"

"Yes; he's a high-liver, is Monsieur Luminot--used to be a wine-merchant; he always has good stuff in his cellar, and he's never stingy about a gla.s.s of wine. He's a friend of Madame Droguet and often dines there."

"Does he dance with Monsieur Droguet?"

"I couldn't tell you. I don't believe he's a dancer, he's too fat for that; while Monsieur Droguet, who is very short and thin, keeps his feet going all the time he's talking to you, just exactly as if he had the St. Vitus's dance. He must have had it when he was small, and never got wholly rid of it. He went to Paris not long ago, on purpose to learn a new dance that's all the fashion, so they say--the lance--lances----"

"Lancers?"

"That's it, mamzelle, the lancers! and when he came back, he couldn't sleep for a number of nights; he used to get up and dance the lancers with his chamber-vessel, so that he woke the whole house, and Madame Droguet was obliged to get angry.--Ah! there's Monsieur Jarnouillard's house."

"The gentleman who ate too many pears?"

"Yes, mamzelle. It isn't very large, but there's only the husband and wife; no children and no servants; Madame Jarnouillard does all the work. But people say they've got enough, that they're rich; and what makes 'em think so is that Monsieur Jarnouillard lends money to people who are hard up and are able to pay it back--who have chattels and land, as he says. If you haven't got those things, there's no danger of his accommodating you; and anyway he charges interest that makes you shudder!"

"The man's a usurer then, is he?"

"Faith! I can't say as to that. They say that he used to be a tradesman in Paris, with a shop on Quai des Lunettes. I don't know what kind of _lunettes_--spectacles--he sold, but he must have made a good thing out of it. They ain't liked hereabout, and yet people are very glad to have 'em here; because those who get into difficulty, who need money to pay their rent or to take up a note, go to see Monsieur Jarnouillard, and he lends 'em the money--provided he can make a pretty profit out of it.

Still, they're people who don't put on any airs, and the Lord only knows what they live on. The wife buys one mutton cutlet for herself and her husband. Bless me! but they're miserly! they eat crusts of bread, old roosters, and fish the husband catches in the Marne; in fact, he's been arrested twice for fishing without a permit. In summer he tries to catch birds with birdlime; they eat whatever he catches; but when they dine out they near kill themselves with indigestion; and besides that, Madame Droguet's maid tells me that they stuff their pockets with things from the table. Ha! ha! that gives them a royal feast the next day. But you understand that all I'm telling you is just gossip; I don't bear those people any grudge; I don't want anything of 'em.--Tutu--tutu--turlututu."

"Ah! my dear Agathe!" said Honorine in a low tone, "people are no more generous in the country than in the city, and he would be bitterly disappointed who should go into the country to live, in the hope of finding purer morals, more agreeable relations, more sincere friendships, and more obliging neighbors! No, men are the same everywhere; but their failings, their vices show more plainly in small places than in the large cities. The only thing one can be certain of having in the country is pure air."

"There's Guillot's house!" said the gardener, halting in front of a wretched hovel of earth and stones, the roof of which was in such bad condition in several places that when it rained the occupants were but partially sheltered.

There was a small garden, hardly separated from the fields by a scrubby hedge of elder-bushes, at the right of the hovel, and in it a few stunted trees shading cabbages and potatoes. Everything was growing haphazard in the little enclosure, which seemed in as wretched a condition as the house.

The two women entered a large room, which was not floored either with flags or boards. It was used as a kitchen, and also as a bedroom, for there was a dilapidated cot in one corner. On the walls, innocent of paper, hung divers kitchen utensils; there were also shelves, upon which were dishes, mainly earthen bowls.

A large walnut _buffet_, several chairs without seats, some stools and a table composed all the furniture of that room, which, moreover, was not very clean and presented an appearance of wretchedness that made the heart ache.

And yet that hovel sheltered a whole family: Guillot the farmer, his wife and four children, the eldest of whom was only eleven, while the youngest still lay in his mother's arms, and another, two years old, still dragged at her skirts.

Nevertheless it was in that family, whose head earned barely enough to support his own children, that Poucette was made welcome. The worthy man considered that his niece, being an orphan, was also his child; and he took her into his home.

"I will try to work a little harder," he thought, "and G.o.d will provide."

If the country people are envious and evil-speaking, we also find among them such touching examples as this of humanity and kindliness: the latter should induce us to forgive the former.

When Agathe and Honorine entered the house, the farmer's wife was nursing her youngest child; another little fellow was rolling on the ground, gnawing a piece of black bread. By the fire, a girl of eight was trying to make the water boil in the kettle by blowing with her breath two or three small sticks that smouldered on the hearth. The two young women stood lost in amazement at the sight of those wretchedly-clad children in that tumble-down hovel. The picture of dest.i.tution is always more painful to look upon when it embraces children.

Guillot's wife looked up with a surprised expression at the two ladies who had entered her home; but it did not interfere with her maternal duties.

A moment later, however, Ledrux put his head in at the door and shouted, as if he were speaking to deaf people--as was his habit with everybody:

"I've brought these ladies to see you, Mere Guillot; they're the ones who've bought Monsieur Courtivaux's house, and they're coming to live in it. They're looking for a girl to do their housework and their cooking; in fact, the whole business; and I thought of Poucette, who hasn't got any place. Would it suit you to have her work for these ladies, who are bourgeoises and well off----"

Honorine interrupted the gardener.

"Madame," she said, "we are told that your niece is a good girl, and we will treat her so that she will be happy with us; but if she is useful to you, if you prefer to keep her with you, we will look elsewhere."

"Oh! Poucette ain't so very necessary to us," replied the peasant; "because Claudine, our oldest, is old enough to look after her little brothers while I go to work in the fields."

"Is that Claudine?" asked Honorine, looking at the child who was still blowing the sticks with all her strength.

"No, that's Mariette, our second one; Claudine's eleven; she's big and strong. As for Poucette, she's a good girl, but let me tell you, if you count on her to do your cooking, why you mustn't expect too much! Well!

she ain't very subtle about cooking."

Honorine smiled at the word "subtle" which the peasants are very fond of using, often without any clear idea of its meaning.

"I am not disturbed about that," she replied. "All I shall ask of Poucette are zeal and willingness."

"Oh! as far as that goes, she's got plenty. And you will give her her keep?"

"Naturally."

"And her washing?"

"She will have to spend nothing but for clothes; and Agathe and I will often find something to give her among our old dresses."

"I will give her my blue striped dress at once," said Agathe, "for it's too small for me. I am still growing."

"If it's too small for you, it will be even smaller for Poucette, who's taller than you," said Pere Ledrux, with a laugh.

"Oh! that don't make any difference," rejoined the farmer's wife; "dresses can be let down and pieced out; we ain't ladies, you know. How much will madame pay my niece to do her work?"

"Tell me yourself what you think it will be worth."