THE LIBRARY 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 WOT. Ct CALIF. LIBBARY, LOS ItfGELSS
 
 c 
 
 
 The greatest happiness a grisette can experience is to make 
 the conquest of an actor. 
 
 PHOTOGRAVURE FROM ORIGINAL DRAWING BY WILLIAM GLACKENS.

 
 The Works of 
 
 CHARLES PAUL DEKOCK 
 
 WITH A GENERAL INTRODUCTION BY 
 
 JULES CLARETIE 
 
 EDMOND AND His COUSIN 
 
 TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH BY 
 
 EDITH MARY NORRIS 
 
 THE FREDERICK J. QUINBY COMPANY 
 
 BOSTON LONDON PARIS
 
 Edition 
 Limit id te One TkfUtanet CcjHet 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1904, BY 
 THE FREDERICK J. QUINBY COMPANY 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
 PRIKTKD ON OLD STRATFORD PAPER MADB BY 
 MITTINKAGUK PAPBR COMPANY 
 
 Printers and Binders, Norwood, Mass.
 
 AM 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 The Interior of a Household . 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 M. Pause 12 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 Freaks of Fortune 29 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 The Bringuesingue Family. A Grand Dinner . 44 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 A Proposition. Self-Sacrifice 62 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 Marriage 81 
 
 Petit-Trick the Breton 108 
 
 A Country Excursion 147 
 
 The Slides of a Magic Lantern 177 
 
 2130679
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Grisettes 184 
 
 The Two Husbands 193 
 
 Wat Tyler 200 
 
 A Little Innocent Game 209 
 
 The Husbands ... 212
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 THE GREATEST HAPPINESS A GRISETTE CAN EX- 
 PERIENCE IS TO MAKE THE CONQUEST OF AN 
 ACTOR. 
 
 (See page 192) Frontispiece 
 
 Photogravure from original drawing by William Glackens. 
 
 PAGE. 
 EDMOND ROSE AND WALKED ABOUT THE ROOM . 23 
 
 Photogravure from original drawing by William Glackens. 
 
 HE KNELT BESIDE CONSTANCE'S BED .... 105 
 Photogravure from original drawing by William Glackens. 
 
 " PAPA, CARRY ME TAKE ME UP IN YOUR ARMS " 226 
 Photogravure from original drawing by William Glackens.
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE INTERIOR OF A HOUSEHOLD 
 
 SOME people are in the habit of doubting every- 
 thing, many others turn everything into ridicule, and 
 a very great number consider themselves qualified 
 to understand and judge of everything. It is con- 
 venient to doubt, for then one need not investi- 
 gate. Thus I have seen a good many people shrug 
 their shoulders when people spoke to them of the 
 distance of the sun from the earth; they answered 
 that no one had been able to go to the sun and ascer- 
 tain this and, starting from this principle, they re- 
 fused to believe in astronomy. The sect of the 
 Pyrrhoneans is numerous, " Plus negare potest 
 asinus quam probare philosophus." 
 
 To turn everything into ridicule is still easier. 
 By Jove ! it is by making game of others that so 
 many people in the world gain a reputation for 
 wit. Poor wit that, of which the shallowest brain 
 has always enough and to spare. There is a ridic- 
 ulous side to everything if one wishes to look for 
 it ; even the sublime is not exempt (above all the 
 sublimity of our epoch). If you like you can find 
 something to ridicule as you witness the represen- 
 tation of a masterpiece of art, as you also can in 
 
 . Vol. XX i
 
 2 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 listening to an academic discourse; nothing is 
 necessary but the disposition. 
 
 Then, finally, there are people who are doubt- 
 ful of nothing ; that is to say, who believe them- 
 selves to possess capacity, talent, a vocation for 
 anything and everything. That which they do 
 not know is that which they did not take the 
 trouble of learning, but it was only for them to 
 set themselves to it and they would have excelled 
 anyone at it ; that which they do not do is that 
 which they do not care to take the trouble to do; 
 for, I repeat, they possess innate knowledge, they 
 have genius for anything, they could make gold 
 if they wished to make it. In the mean time, 
 they will borrow a crown of you, because ordina- 
 rily those people who know how to do everything 
 cannot find a way of earning their living. 
 
 To what does this preamble tend? you wish 
 me to tell you, perhaps ? Well, it means that 
 M. Edmond Guerval, the young man whose his- 
 tory I am about to relate to you, comes under the 
 last head in the category I have cited to you. But, 
 before making him better known to you, permit 
 me to transport you into a small apartment situ- 
 ated on the fourth floor in a rather handsome 
 house in the Faubourg Poissoniere. 
 
 There, in a room which served at the same time 
 for a sitting-room and bedroom and furnished 
 very simply, but with a good taste that announced 
 order and easy circumstances, three persons were
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 3 
 
 seated about a round table on which was a lamp 
 covered with a shade, for it was evening in the 
 winter season. I had a desire to inform you, like 
 the watchmen, as to the hour and the weather. 
 
 First of all, there was a young person of twenty 
 or thereabouts, a pretty brunette with soft black 
 eyes (which is not incompatible), whose features, 
 without being really regular, had an expression 
 which pleased and attracted immediately. Her 
 hair, carefully and prettily arranged, fell in great 
 curls at each side of her face but left exposed a 
 high white brow, which indicated a mind in which 
 duplicity and falsehood could never find a place. 
 This young girl was named Constance ; she was 
 the cousin of that Edmond Guerval whom I have 
 just told you of. 
 
 Near Constance sat another young lady with 
 her hair drawn, in the Chinese fashion, back from 
 her face. Picture to yourself one of those ani- 
 mated and bright faces on which a smile is always 
 in evidence ; a medium-sized but pleasing mouth, 
 small but mischievous eyes, a nose small rather 
 than well-cut, in fact, a comical rather than a pretty 
 face, and you will have a portrait of Pelagic, a 
 friend and neighbor of Constance. 
 
 The third person was a young man of twenty- 
 five to twenty-six years, rather ugly and deeply 
 pitted by the smallpox, whose nose was too big, 
 his forehead too low, his eyes too light, but who 
 redeemed these disadvantages by an expression of
 
 4 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 timidity which is not common nowadays in young 
 men. 
 
 This young man, whose attire was decent but 
 very simple, without a suspicion of fashion, was 
 seated beside the fire reading to the young ladies, 
 who were employed with their needlework, 
 
 " * In the midst of the forest was an old chapel, 
 fast falling into ruin, which the crows, the owls 
 and the bats had long made their favorite dwelling, 
 the valiant Adhemar ' ' 
 
 " Good gracious ! M. Ginguet, how badly you 
 read!" said Mademoiselle Pelagic; "you go on 
 and on you mix it all up till no one can under- 
 stand anything." 
 
 " However, I pause at the periods and at the 
 commas." 
 
 " I don't know whether it was the owls or the 
 valiant Adhemar who had taken up their dwell- 
 ing in the old chapel " 
 
 " I'll begin again, mademoiselle, c Which the 
 crows, the owls and the bats had long made their 
 favorite dwelling ' a period. * The valiant Ad- 
 hemar did not fear to penetrate into the midst of 
 these ruins at the hour of midnight ' ' 
 
 "You would not have had the courage to do 
 so, M. Ginguet ! " 
 
 " Why do you think that, mademoiselle ? " 
 
 " Because I believe you are rather timid." 
 
 " Mademoiselle, I am not a blusterer, a crazy 
 fellow, it is true ; but I beg you to believe that if
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 5 
 
 it were a question of defending you, of protecting 
 you from danger, nothing would deter me." 
 
 " Meanwhile, you have to have some one hold 
 a light for you to come up the staircase when you 
 have forgotten your cane." 
 
 " That is because the staircase up to the first 
 floor is so highly waxed and polished that I am 
 always afraid of falling." 
 
 " Oh, that is correct ; when one can see it clearly 
 it becomes less slippery. Ha, ha, ha ! But please 
 go on." 
 
 " ' Into the midst of these ruins at the hour of 
 midnight. The moon was then shining in all her 
 brilliance, and her reflections created a thousand 
 fantastic objects which ' ' 
 
 " What have I done with my needle ? I had it 
 just now. It's a real English one and I prize it." 
 
 " Do you want me to look on the ground, 
 mademoiselle ? " 
 
 " Oh, wait ! here it is. How stupid I am, it 
 was right beside my work." 
 
 " ' A thousand fantastic objects which would 
 have frightened any other than a noble and stain- 
 less knight ' " 
 
 " Come, it's my thimble now. Good gracious ! 
 how unfortunate I am this evening. I must find 
 it my little ivory thimble or somebody will 
 step on it and crush it, and it was a present from 
 my uncle, who doesn't often give me one. Oh, 
 here it is, it was on my knees. Well, why don't
 
 6 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 you go on, M. Ginguet? You stop every minute. 
 How do you think I can understand what you 
 read." 
 
 " c Than a noble and stainless knight whose 
 valor had never been denied. But young Adhe- 
 mar, drawing his sword out of its scabbard ' ' 
 
 " How stupid ! if he draws his sword at all, it 
 is quite clear that he must draw it out of the scab- 
 bard. It was you who added that, M. Ginguet." 
 
 " No, mademoiselle, I added nothing ; if you 
 will take the trouble to look at it, you will see 
 that I did not." 
 
 "It's needless; go on." 
 
 " * Out of its scabbard, unhesitatingly entered the 
 gloomy vaulted precincts of the old chapel, crush- 
 ing beneath his feet the flagstones rotted by time.' ' 
 
 "Tell me now, Constance, does this book amuse 
 you ? I think it has neither end nor interest; I 
 like the ' Petit-Poucet ' or the ' Peau d' Ane ' much 
 better, and then M. Ginguet reads in such a monot- 
 onous way. It sounds to me like an old blindman's 
 clarinet." 
 
 Up to this time Constance had remained quiet, 
 leaving her young friend Pelagic to tease M. Gin- 
 guet ; she had paid little attention to the reading, 
 but instead had often turned her eyes towards a 
 small clock on the mantelpiece, which had just 
 sounded the half hour after nine. 
 
 Constance felt disappointed as the evening wore 
 on without the arrival of her cousin Edmond, for
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 7 
 
 the young girl dearly loved him. Constance had 
 been, so to speak, brought up with Edmond ; their 
 mothers were sisters and both became widowed 
 when very young ; they had vowed never to marry 
 again, but to devote themselves to the education 
 of their respective children. 
 
 The two sisters had lived together, and their 
 sweetest hope had been that Edmond and Con- 
 stance, who was only four years younger than her 
 cousin, should be one day united in marriage. 
 
 Everything seemed to indicate that this union 
 would be for the happiness of the two children ; 
 they loved each other as brother and sister, and as 
 they grew up it was to be presumed that a ten- 
 derer love would usurp the place of the fraternal 
 friendship. As to the monetary considerations, 
 they were all that was desirable ; each sister had 
 the same fortune in the funds, which she intended 
 to leave entirely to her child. These ladies had 
 seen the " Deux Gendres " and " Pere Goreot," 
 but that did not change their resolutions ; good 
 mothers never believe in the ingratitude of their 
 children, and they were right. It is so sweet to 
 count on the love and gratitude of those we cher- 
 ish. Besides, ungrateful children are not natural, 
 they are the exception. 
 
 But fate, which is always right, or so say our 
 friends the optimists, did not permit these two 
 good mothers to live to realize the plan which they 
 had formed. Madame Guerval died just as her
 
 8 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 son had attained his eighteenth year, and Edmond 
 remained with his aunt and cousin, whose loving 
 care softened the bitterness of his grief; but in the 
 following year Constance also lost her mother, and 
 the poor children were thus both orphaned. 
 
 Edmond was nineteen, Constance was sixteen ; 
 they were still too young to marry. Besides, one 
 must wear mourning for one's mother ; but as it 
 would not have been proper that the young peo- 
 ple should continue to live together, Constance, 
 immediately after her mother's death, went to live 
 with M. Pause, Pelagie's uncle. 
 
 M. Pause was a musician of the third order ; he 
 had played the 'cello since he was ten years old, 
 and he was now fifty-five, but he had never been 
 able to read anything at sight except in the key of 
 F ; he loved music passionately, and played his in- 
 strument as if he loved that ; however, he played 
 very indifferently, never in time, but regularly fol- 
 lowing behind the others. M. Pause was an ex- 
 cellent man, a model of promptitude ; he always 
 arrived before his time at the theatre where he was 
 employed, was never fined, and showed no ill- 
 humor when they made him begin the same piece 
 five or six times over at the rehearsals. All these 
 qualities had won him the esteem of his chiefs and 
 had caused them to excuse his inferior talent. 
 
 M. Pause was not rich. Though in this century 
 music has made great progress and threatens to 
 invade the public squares as well as the gardens,
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 9 
 
 one does not earn high wages by playing the 'cello 
 in a theatre where they give melodramas. Some 
 lessons which M. Pause gave in the morning aug- 
 mented his income but slightly, for his pupils had 
 the habit of leaving him as soon as they could 
 manage to read at sight themselves. Despite that, 
 the poor musician, who was as methodical in his 
 household as he was prompt at the theatre, lived in 
 happiness and contentment with his niece Pelagic, 
 the lively little girl you have seen working beside 
 her friend and teasing M. Ginguet, a young clerk 
 at the Treasury and an honest fellow, whose good- 
 humor bordered a little on simplicity and who was 
 desperately in love with the 'cello player's niece. 
 
 M. Pause had sometimes gone with his niece to 
 see the two widows and their children. Constance 
 and Pelagic were on very intimate terms ; in youth 
 one so quickly grows attached and there are 
 some people who keep this habit all their lives. 
 
 Constance had often heard her mother praise 
 M. Pause's upright character and excellent heart, 
 and when she had lost her she thought she could 
 not do better than to go and ask for shelter and 
 protection from this old friend of her family. 
 Pelagie's uncle joyfully welcomed the young or- 
 phan ; he would have received her even had Con- 
 stance come to be a charge on him ; but the young 
 girl, who had a modest competence, would not 
 enter the poor musician's house until he had con- 
 sented to receive payment, which she regulated
 
 io EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 herself; in this way Constance's presence in Pause's 
 house made things more easy, and at the same time 
 she brought many pleasures to it. 
 
 At the time we begin this history, Constance 
 had already been for three years and a half an in- 
 mate of M. Pause's dwelling; young Edmond had 
 attained his twenty-fourth year, and nothing stood 
 in the way of his union with his pretty cousin, who 
 was over nineteen and knew all that was necessary 
 to make an excellent housewife. 
 
 Why, then, had this union not taken place, since 
 no obstacle stood in the way of these young peo- 
 ple's happiness ? It was probably because not the 
 slightest impediment came in the way of his love 
 that Edmond was in no hurry to be happy. It 
 seems that men attach no value to that which they 
 obtain without trouble ; let an end be easily at- 
 tained, and you will see how few competitors seek 
 to arrive there. Thus Edmond, quite sure of his 
 cousin's love, quite sure that as soon as he wished 
 she would give him her hand, always deferred this 
 union, which had been so greatly desired by both 
 their mothers. 
 
 It is necessary to tell you that on coming into 
 possession of the modest fortune which his mother 
 had left him while still quite young, Edmond, not 
 knowing yet what career he should enter and be- 
 lieving himself capable of success in all that he 
 undertook, had already tried several professions, but 
 his changeable disposition and his versatile mind
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK n 
 
 had caused him soon to abandon them. How- 
 ever, before marrying his cousin he insisted that 
 he must have a position, a fortune and even fame 
 to offer her, and it was because he had not yet 
 acquired all these that he put off the time of his 
 marriage. 
 
 You know now the persons with whom you will 
 have most to do. Let us now return to the round 
 table, to listen to the end of their conversation.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 M. PAUSE 
 
 CONSTANCE had notanswered her cousin's ques- 
 tion, so preoccupied had she been in thinking of 
 Edmond. 
 
 " Constance, at least, is very fortunate, for while 
 M. Ginguet was reading she had something else 
 to think of, so she did not listen. If he had read 
 the ' Moniteur ' she would have thought he was 
 still reading the c Mysteries de la Tour du Sud.' 
 Ah, that is what it is to have a cousin who is 
 going to marry us." 
 
 " A cousin ! " said Constance, blushing and awak- 
 ening from her revery. " Yes, that is true I 
 think Edmond is very late this evening." 
 
 " Oh, I was sure you were thinking of him. 
 You love him so much." 
 
 " I cannot deny that ; my mother betrothed me 
 to Edmond, and often told me how much I ought 
 to love him, because he would one day be my 
 protector, my husband." 
 
 "And he is a very fortunate young man!" mut- 
 tered Ginguet, taking the tongs to poke the fire. 
 
 " What do you say, M. Ginguet ? " demanded 
 Pelagic with a mischievous look.
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 13 
 
 " Me ! nothing at all, mademoiselle, I am at- 
 tending to the fire." 
 
 " But when is the wedding to come off, Con- 
 stance ? I shall be delighted to dance at it. I am 
 to be maid of honor, you know, and my dress is 
 already settled on. It will be charming too." 
 
 " Then I hope they will have me for the best 
 man," said Ginguet timidly, not daring to look at 
 Mademoiselle Pelagic. 
 
 " That's all right, M. Ginguet, we shall see, we 
 will think of it, but don't weary us in advance with 
 your demands. In the first place, as maid of honor, 
 I shall arrange all that. Constance has promised. 
 Your marriage is fixed for next month, isn't it ? " 
 
 " Why that will depend on Edmond." 
 
 " It's very singular that your future husband 
 should not evince more eagerness ; were I in your 
 place, I should say to him, ( Cousin, if you don't 
 wish to marry me, tell me so frankly.' ' 
 
 " Why, Pelagic ! what an idea ! can I suppose 
 that my cousin no longer loves me ? What does 
 it matter when our marriage takes place ? so long 
 as I know that some day I shall be his wife, I am 
 happy " 
 
 As she said these words the young girl stifled a 
 sigh, but after a moment she resumed, 
 
 "Edmond wishes to have an honorable position 
 in the world, but he does not yet quite know what 
 profession he ought to adopt. The desire to ac- 
 quire renown, to hear his name coupled with praise,
 
 i 4 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 troubles him and preoccupies him incessantly. I 
 cannot wish that he should do otherwise than seek 
 to acquire an honorable rank in society, although 
 I do not think that glory adds to happiness. In 
 the first place, you know he has a great taste for 
 music he is studying composition, he wants to 
 be a Boieldieu, a Rossini." 
 
 " Yes, and all that he has accomplished in that 
 direction is a waltz which he has published and in 
 which my uncle says there are some pretty bars." 
 
 "As for me, I never have been able to play his 
 waltz on my flute," said M. Ginguet; "it's sur- 
 prising how difficult it is." 
 
 " Because you never play in time! Ah, M. Gin- 
 guet ! you could never compose a waltz." 
 
 " Mademoiselle, a fortnight ago I composed a 
 little galop that I should like to dedicate to you." 
 
 "A little galop! That must be pretty! In 
 fact your cousin has abandoned music for poetry. 
 He has composed a comedy in three acts, and in 
 verse. It is very fine." 
 
 " By Jove ! how he was hissed. What a racket 
 there was the day it was put on the stage ! " mut- 
 tered Ginguet, still fiddling with the fire and failing 
 to notice Pelagie's efforts to silence him. 
 
 " My cousin was not fortunate at the theatre," 
 said Constance, sighing, "and I don't think he has 
 any desire to try it again." 
 
 " Why, what can you expect ? no one is success- 
 ful at the very outset. But he must have some
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 15 
 
 intellect to be able to write a comedy at all even 
 if it did fail. M. Ginguet, I suppose you have 
 never made a verse in your life ? " 
 
 " Pardon me, mademoiselle, I composed a song 
 for my aunt's birthday to the tune of ' Grenadier, 
 que tu m'affliges ! ' There are eight couplets." 
 
 " That must be funny ! You must sing it to 
 me some evening when I want to go to sleep." 
 
 "Just now Edmond is enraptured with paint- 
 ing," said Constance ; " he is finishing a picture 
 which he is going to send to the exposition." 
 
 " Is it an historical picture, mademoiselle? " in- 
 quired M. Ginguet, at length relinquishing the 
 tongs. 
 
 " Oh, no, monsieur, it is a genre picture." 
 
 " Good gracious, M. Ginguet, you ask questions 
 that are devoid of all common sense. Do you 
 suppose that M. Edmond, who has only been 
 studying painting for a short time, can paint an his- 
 torical picture at the very outset ? " 
 
 " By Jove, mademoiselle, I have a little nephew 
 who is only nine years old, and he's drawing 
 Brutus and Epaminondas every day of his life ; it 
 isn't more difficult to copy M. Dabuffe's * Sou- 
 venirs ' and c Regrets.' ' 
 
 " Do hold your tongue, M. Ginguet ; you make 
 me sick talking like that ! One can tell very well 
 that you never learned drawing." 
 
 "You are mistaken, mademoiselle, I have been 
 taking lessons for six months, and I can already
 
 16 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 draw windmills very passably indeed. Would you 
 like me to go on reading ? " 
 
 " No, don't you see we are talking; cut out the 
 scallops of this embroidery for me, but be very care- 
 ful not to cut into a notch." 
 
 " Be assured that I will use the utmost care, 
 mademoiselle." 
 
 M. Ginguet took the embroidery and the scis- 
 sors and began to cut without lifting his eyes for 
 fear of committing some awkwardness. 
 
 "If my cousin's picture is not received at the 
 Salon," said Constance, " I am sure that he will 
 abandon painting as he has abandoned music and 
 play-writing." 
 
 "What can you expect? he is seeking his vo- 
 cation; he would like to do everything, and that is 
 impossible. He has a great deal of talent but 
 hardly any perseverance, that cousin of yours." 
 
 "A rolling stone gathers no moss," said M. Gin- 
 guet in an undertone, as he industriously continued 
 to snip. 
 
 "That's all very well, M. Ginguet, we shall see 
 how much moss you gather ; you've been in an 
 office for seven years, I believe, and you are still 
 a supernumerary." 
 
 " Mademoiselle, it is because they don't do right 
 by me everything goes by favor ; but I shall get 
 there, never fear." 
 
 " Yes, if you keep on, in fifteen years or so 
 they'll make you an office boy."
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 17 
 
 " Oh, mademoiselle " 
 
 " Take care, monsieur, or you'll cut one of my 
 scallops." 
 
 " You meant to say I should be chief of the 
 office, didn't you ? " 
 
 Pelagic began to laugh and at that moment 
 somebody rang the door bell. Constance's face 
 expanded, for she did not doubt that it was her 
 cousin ; but the young girl's joy was of short 
 duration. 
 
 It was a little fat, thickset, inflated man, having 
 in the middle of his face a little bump with two 
 openings which was supposed to be a nose, and 
 beneath that a great expanse of mouth, stopped 
 happily by his ears ; which with great, goggle eyes 
 and bristly hair, which grew almost up to his eye- 
 brows, united in making his face one of the fun- 
 niest that any one ever saw even in the "Dantan " 
 gallery. 
 
 This little man was honest M. Pause, Pelagie's 
 uncle, a most intrepid performer on the 'cello (which 
 does not mean that he was the best), who had come 
 from his theatre much earlier than was his custom. 
 
 M. Ginguet left his scallops for a moment to 
 greet M. Pause respectfully and to yield to him his 
 place beside the fire. 
 
 "What, is it you, M. Pause?" said Constance; 
 " why, it is barely ten o'clock, and ordinarily your 
 theatre is not closed so soon." 
 
 " That is true, my dear, but this evening we had 
 
 Vol. XX
 
 18 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 a new piece in three acts and the public wanted to 
 hear only two, which necessarily shortened the 
 evening." 
 
 " So the piece was a failure, uncle ? " 
 
 "Yes, my dearest." 
 
 " Was it so very bad?" inquired Ginguet, with- 
 out taking his eyes from his scallops. 
 
 " Bad why, that depends ; there were some 
 pretty things above all in the parts for the 
 orchestra ; as for that, they are to give it again to- 
 morrow, and the director has said that it will go." 
 
 " Go where ? " 
 
 " Why, make a hit ; be carried to success by a 
 storm of applause. That's what would have hap- 
 pened today if they would have given the whole 
 body of the house to the author, as is the habitual 
 practice with the plays of our great modern men, 
 who do not wish that a single ticket should be paid 
 for on the occasion of a first presentation of one 
 of their plays ; because at a first presentation 
 everybody should be acquainted, which would 
 ensure general enthusiasm. But yesterday the 
 manager had the weakness to want to take in some 
 receipts, and what is the result the piece failed. 
 That's a. great gain, as the author had proved to 
 him as plainly as two and two make four, saying 
 to him, 
 
 "'I consented to let you have some of my plays, 
 that's all very well; but it is not sufficient for you 
 to pay me more than others it is now necessary
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 19 
 
 for you to sacrifice your receipts for six represen- 
 tations. That, monsieur, is the only way to make 
 money now.' ' 
 
 " Uncle, if they are going to give passes for the 
 whole body of the theatre next week, can't you get 
 some for Constance and I ? " 
 
 " Why, that will be difficult ; they don't give 
 passes lightly to the first persons who ask them 
 they want people on whom they can depend. 
 Besides, my dear Pelagic, you know that I don't 
 like to ask the slightest favor. We have our or- 
 chestra passes once a fortnight that's quite nice.'* 
 
 " Oh, yes, they are nice, your orchestra passes 
 are," said Ginguet, as he continued to cut his scal- 
 lops ; "you have to pay twenty sous for each person 
 with those, and they put you on the side, at a place 
 where it is impossible to see. Then they tell you 
 that by paying an additional twenty you may go 
 where you can face the stage. Good ! you pay the 
 supplemental price, you go to the centre, there are 
 no vacant seats, you shout, you see empty boxes, 
 but to go into those you must pay fifteen sous 
 extra, a total of fifty-five sous for a place that is 
 marked two francs fifteen sous at the ofHce so 
 with your free pass you pay exactly five sous more 
 than the price and you have to remain two hours 
 in line. I haven't said anything yet of the foot- 
 stool that the boxkeeper thrusts almost by force 
 under one's feet, of the f Theatrical News ' one 
 must buy, or of the price of checking one's
 
 20 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 umbrella. I have a horror of free passes, I would 
 much rather rent a box than accept an employe's 
 pass." 
 
 " Poor M. Ginguet ! what a passion to get into." 
 
 " Well, mademoiselle, it is because I remember 
 
 the last time I took my aunts and my sisters to the 
 
 play I had employe's passes and I spent all 
 
 I had saved for months." 
 
 " Why don't you pay attention to my scallops, 
 that would be much better. There, you've cut one 
 of them now ; oh, I was sure you would do it. 
 Give it to me, monsieur ; I won't let you touch it 
 again." 
 
 " Mademoiselle, I will repair the damage." 
 " No, you've done quite enough harm now." 
 Pelagic took her embroidery from M. Ginguet, 
 who appeared overwhelmed by his mishap, and at 
 this moment the bell rang again. 
 
 " This must surely be he," said Constance. 
 A young man with smooth hair, a little pointed 
 beard on his chin and whose regular features were 
 stamped with an expression of self-sufficiency which 
 deprived them of all their charm, soon entered the 
 apartment, and without greeting any one threw 
 himself ill-temperedly into an armchair as he ex- 
 claimed, 
 
 " It is pitiable ! it is shocking ! it is detestable ! " 
 " What do you mean, cousin ? " asked Con- 
 stance, looking anxiously at the young man who 
 had just come in.
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 21 
 
 " Have you been to see our new play ? " inquired 
 M. Pause, beating with his fingers on the mantel- 
 piece as though he were conducting an orchestra. 
 "It seemed to me, however, as though there were 
 a good many pretty things in it." 
 
 " Oh, I'm not bothering myself much about your 
 play it is my picture which is in question, my 
 picture, which is delightful in tone and finish and 
 color " 
 
 " Well, what of it, cousin ? " 
 
 " Well, it has been refused at the exhibition ; 
 I have had certain information to that effect this 
 evening." 
 
 " It is refused ! " 
 
 " Yes, cousin. Neither talent, genius nor a de- 
 cided vocation for the arts avail one nowadays ; 
 it is only schemers who manage to achieve success, 
 who get the emoluments, the honors. But when 
 one is not praised and exalted by a clique one has 
 no chance of having his work accepted ; so many 
 obstacles are thrown in one's way, so many things 
 are done to disgust and discourage one in a career 
 where one's success would crush his rivals." 
 
 " But, my dear fellow," said M. Pause, trying 
 to beat a tune in trois-temps with his head, "the 
 public is not a clique, and it is the public approval 
 which makes real success, despite the newspaper 
 articles, which are sometimes as incorrect in their 
 assertions about art as they are about politics, and, 
 sooner or later, talent will always tell ; but one must
 
 22 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 persevere in everything. Look you, I have always 
 passionately loved music, the 'cello was my idol, 
 I would make 'cellos on the wall with charcoal, 
 I made them everywhere. My father would often 
 say to me, 'You had much better measure off 
 calico than put that big fiddle between your legs ; 
 you were born to be behind a counter and not to 
 scrape catgut.' But I felt that I was born for 
 music, so I kept on ; my resolution brought many 
 disagreeable things upon me, but at length I dare 
 to say I have attained my end, succeeded ; now I 
 am recognized ; however, I can say with truth not 
 a single newspaper has ever said a word about me." 
 
 Edmond repressed an ironical smile which flick- 
 ered on his lips, and answered, 
 
 " I have no desire to wait twenty-five to thirty 
 years to acquire a reputation ; we live in a century 
 where things move quickly, where people wish to 
 get rich, be prosperous and admired immediately. 
 I want to do as do others. The means are not 
 lacking to me ; in music I at once understood the 
 rules of composition.'* 
 
 " Yes, oh, yes ; you are sure to be successful, 
 there are some very pretty things in your waltz ! " 
 
 " Plays ! why, I could have produced one a week 
 if they had been accepted and novels too do 
 you suppose it is such a difficult matter to write 
 them ? they print such bad ones nowadays." 
 
 " Certainly, it ought not to be difficult to do 
 anything badly."

 
 Edmond rose and walked about the room. 
 PHOTOGRAVURE FROM ORIGINAL PRAWING BY WILLIAM GLACKENS.

 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 23 
 
 " As to my picture, you have seen it, M. Pause ; 
 come, answer me, is it not good ? " 
 
 " There are many good points about it," an- 
 swered M. Pause, still playing with his fingers. 
 
 Edmond rose and walked about the room for 
 a few moments, and appeared to be deeply reflect- 
 ing. The two young girls were silently working ; 
 for one of them was thinking that her marriage 
 would again be put off and the other that she would 
 not be likely to have to wear her pretty brides- 
 maid's costume very soon. M. Pause also re- 
 mained silent, contenting himself with beating in 
 andante or presto ; as for M. Ginguet, since he had 
 had the misfortune to cut one of Pelagie's scallops 
 he had not known how to sit up in his chair. 
 
 Presently Edmond's brow became less anxious, 
 his features became animated, his eyes shone and 
 he exclaimed, 
 
 " Really, I am very foolish to bother myself 
 about their foolish injustice. After all one must be 
 a gull to work and wear himself all out to acquire 
 a talent that our citizens do not know how to ap- 
 preciate if they do not deny it, at any rate they 
 will be jealous of it. To put one's self to expense 
 for envious, ungrateful people can anything be more 
 foolish than that ? Money that is the only thing 
 to have, because, having money, everybody will 
 render one all possible honor and endow one with 
 all kinds of merit. Yes, that is decided. I renounce 
 the fine arts, I wish to recognize no other god than
 
 24 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 Plutus, to whom I shall offer all my incense. My 
 dear cousin, you won't marry a celebrity, a shining 
 light, but you will marry a millionnaire, and you 
 will have carriages, hotels, diamonds, lackeys." 
 
 " What makes you say that, cousin ? what new 
 idea is passing through your head ? " 
 
 " Oh, it is a firmly settled plan now. I want 
 to become very rich. Do you not see stupid and 
 incapable people making their fortunes every day ? 
 It seems to me, after all, that if a man with good 
 mental qualifications only wishes to take the trou- 
 ble, he must surely be able to do the same." 
 
 " That is not good reasoning," said Constance, 
 sighing, " besides, cousin, are great riches neces- 
 sary to one's happiness ? We have each of us a 
 modest competency, and I think that ought to suf- 
 fice us. I have no desire to shine in the world or 
 to eclipse any one." 
 
 " And I, cousin, wish you to eclipse all the other 
 ladies in your dress, your diamonds. I want every 
 one to envy my wife's fate ; I want them to say, 
 ' Madame Guerval has but to form a wish to have 
 it gratified. Her husband refuses her nothing.' 
 In fact, I have already thought of a way of being 
 successful, and before long I shall lay at your feet 
 my riches and my hand." 
 
 " As you please, cousin, but pray remember that 
 your riches will not add to my happiness." 
 
 " I should very much like to know how he 
 hopes to make a big fortune so rapidly," said the
 
 honest 'cellist to himself, shaking his head doubt- 
 fully. 
 
 " M. Ginguet, it seems to me that you also ought 
 to try to become a millionnaire,"said Pelagie, look- 
 ing mischievously at the young clerk, " by that 
 means you would avoid a long career as a super- 
 numerary." 
 
 " Me, mademoiselle ? I am fortunate in noth- 
 ing," answered Ginguet, heaving a deep sigh. 
 " What would you like me to undertake ? " 
 
 " Well, I don't advise you in any case to under- 
 take cutting out for you certainly are not a bril- 
 liant success at that." 
 
 The young girl laughed heartily, while the 
 young man lowered his eyes and felt almost ready 
 to cry. 
 
 " Children," said M. Pause after a moment, 
 "while we are waiting for M. Edmond to become 
 a member of the Assembly, don't you think we had 
 better go to bed ? " 
 
 " Good-night, cousin," said Constance, rising 
 and laying aside her work ; " we shall see you 
 tomorrow, I hope ? " 
 
 "Yes, my dear; oh, I shall continue to come, 
 and before long you will see that I am telling you 
 the truth. But it's getting late ; aren't you com- 
 ing, M. Ginguet ? " 
 
 " Here I am I'll be with you, I am looking 
 for my hat." 
 
 " The same thing occurs every evening," said
 
 26 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 Pelagic ; " you never know what you have done 
 with your hat." 
 
 M. Ginguet knew very well where his shabby 
 felt hat was, but he made a pretence of looking all 
 over the room for it, hoping to have an opportu- 
 nity of approaching Pelagic to whisper a request 
 for pardon for having cut her scallop ; for the lorn 
 bachelor felt that he should not sleep that night if 
 he left the young girl displeased with him. 
 
 But Pelagic made a point of not going near 
 Ginguet, and he was obliged to go ; Edmond was 
 already on the landing, saying good-by to the 
 ladies and to M. Pause. 
 
 Pelagie's voice was heard again, exclaiming in 
 the mocking tone which was natural to her, 
 
 " M. Ginguet, if you don't find your hat, my 
 uncle has decided to lend you one of his cotton 
 nightcaps to wear home." 
 
 " I have it, mademoiselle, I have it," answered 
 Ginguet, coming back chopfallen, and with his hat 
 in his hand. " I am sorry to have made you wait 
 at the door I am very unfortunate this even- 
 ing I am so I " 
 
 "That's enough, M. Ginguet, it is quite time 
 to say good-night; you can tell us the rest another 
 time." 
 
 And the door on the landing was closed on the 
 young man, who was bowing confusedly. When 
 he saw that he was bowing to the bare walls, he de- 
 cided to go down the staircase, sadly muttering,
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 27 
 
 "She's very willing to get rid of me ! I am very 
 unlucky. I would give everything I possess if only 
 Mademoiselle Pelagic would love me, and when I 
 am near her I do nothing but what is awkward." 
 
 The young men had reached the street ; there 
 they were to part, for one had to go up the Fau- 
 bourg and the other went down towards the boule- 
 vard. But Ginguet had seated himself on a post 
 which stood beside the house he had just left, and 
 seemed disposed to remain there. Edmond struck 
 him on the arm, saying to him, 
 
 " Good-evening, my dear Ginguet." 
 
 " Good-evening, M. Edmond." 
 
 "Do you expect to pass the night on that post?" 
 
 " I don't know what I shall do I am so un- 
 happy ! Ah, M. Edmond, you don't know what 
 it is to love without hope, you who are certain of 
 possessing your cousin's heart; but I adore an un- 
 grateful, cruel girl with a heart as hard as a rock 
 I might weep for a fortnight and Mademoiselle 
 Pelagic would not even ask me why my eyes were 
 red." 
 
 " Then, it seems to me, you would do much 
 better not to weep." 
 
 " Can I help doing so ? When Mademoiselle 
 Pelagic has treated me harshly during the evening, 
 I sob all night so loud that my neighbor in the 
 next room has already threatened that she will com- 
 plain to the superintendent of police because she 
 declares I prevent her from sleeping."
 
 28 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 " Poor Ginguet ! good evening, I am going to 
 dream of my plans to make my fortune." 
 
 Edmond took himself off, leaving Ginguet 
 seated on the post. At length the lorn bachelor 
 lifted his face and looked up at the windows of 
 M. Pause's apartment, saying to himself, 
 
 "If she would only come to the window, if I 
 could only see her pass with the light." 
 
 And he remained thus with neck extended and 
 nose in the air, his eyes fixed on the windows of 
 the fourth story, walking along for some steps and 
 then stopping ; and like the astronomer who was 
 looking at the moon and did not see the ditch at his 
 feet, the unfortunate lover, in gazing up at his be- 
 loved's windows did not see some stones which had 
 been left near the gutter, which was filled with water, 
 for it had rained during the day. 
 
 M. Ginguet stumbled and fell right into the 
 middle of the water, an anything but enticing bath. 
 
 But as an unexpected physical sensation always 
 drives away moral sensations, M. Ginguet picked 
 himself up, dripping wet, and immediately turned 
 towards his home without being tempted to gaze 
 longer at Mademoiselle Pclagic's windows.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 FREAKS OF FORTUNE 
 
 FOUR months passed by ; Edmond now talked 
 of nothing but the fluctuations of stocks, five per 
 cents and current prices, for his way of making a 
 fortune had simply been that of gambling at the 
 Bourse. He had realized his little property and 
 counted on quadrupling his capital in a short time. 
 
 Good M. Pause frowned when he heard how 
 Constance's cousin expected to get rich ; but she, 
 always kind, always gentle, would not allow her- 
 self to blame her cousin ; besides, Edmond was 
 beginning well ; he was winning, as is almost 
 always the case when people begin to gamble, and 
 he was therefore delightfully good-tempered when 
 he came to see his cousin. His visits, to tell the 
 truth, were short ; and he talked only of sales on 
 time and reduced consols. 
 
 M. Ginguet still went on foot and wore his 
 brown frock coat and black waistcoat, which often 
 subjected him to Pelagie's mischievous sarcasm. 
 However, one evening he appeared with a radiant 
 expression and wearing a white waistcoat. 
 
 "Something extraordinary must have happened 
 to you, M. Ginguet," said Pelagie immediately,
 
 30 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 " you have changed something in your uniform ; 
 I do believe you have gone so far as to black your 
 boots this evening." 
 
 " I don't believe I ever appear before you, 
 mademoiselle, with untidy clothes or muddy boots. 
 In the first place, I am careful to wipe my boots on 
 all the door mats." 
 
 " Come, M. Ginguet, answer me is it not true 
 that something has happened to you? You are 
 not in your ordinary condition, I even think you 
 are squinting this evening." 
 
 " Mademoiselle, I was not aware of it, but pleas- 
 ure may have caused me to squint ; it certainly is the 
 case that I am very pleased ; dating from the first 
 of this month I am no longer a supernumerary, 
 but have been appointed to a permanent place." 
 
 " You are appointed ? why, that is fine ! And 
 how much salary are you to have ? " 
 
 " I have eight hundred francs, mademoiselle." 
 
 " Eight hundred francs per month ? " 
 
 "Why, the idea! no, by the year, and it seems 
 to me that's very well for a beginning." 
 
 "Why, yes," said M. Pause, who had not yet 
 left for the theatre. " That enables a young man 
 to go, not to the opera or to Vefours ; but in Paris 
 there are so many ways of living. One may dine 
 perfectly well for twenty-two sous." 
 
 " Why, uncle ! you'll be saying next that a 
 person may set up housekeeping on an income of 
 eight hundred francs."
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 31 
 
 " My darling, I have known a clerk who with 
 a salary of twelve hundred francs had a wife and 
 four children, and they all lived on it and did not 
 go into debt by so much as a sou ; in fact, nobody 
 would have lent them money or given them credit." 
 
 Poor Ginguet breathed not a word ; he had 
 fondly hoped that Pelagic, on learning of his ap- 
 pointment, would have treated him a little more 
 kindly, and he found himself again mistaken in 
 his hope. But on going out M. Pause pressed 
 his hand, saying, 
 
 " I offer my congratulations, my dear fellow, 
 my very sincere congratulations for in my eyes 
 an assured income of eight hundred francs is much 
 better than the pursuit of millions. Good-by ; I 
 am going to play for a melodrama in which there 
 are many pretty things." 
 
 Accustomed to hearing Edmond Guerval speak 
 only of such sums as fifty and sixty thousand 
 francs, the young girl had not been greatly daz- 
 zled by M. Ginguet's new position. In fact, what 
 is a man with eight hundred francs a year in com- 
 parison with some one who by a lucky stroke at 
 the Bourse may win fifty times as much. How- 
 ever, Constance, who witnessed the sighs of the 
 poor clerk when he was near Pelagic, often scolded 
 the latter for the manner in which she treated 
 M. Ginguet; but Pelagie would answer, 
 
 " I can say anything I like to him ; if he really 
 loves me should he not be only too happy that I
 
 32 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 am quite willing he should come every evening? 
 He's not so very entertaining. Sometimes he 
 comes in, sits down and remains for two hours 
 without opening his mouth." 
 
 " That's when you take no notice of him when 
 he says good-evening to you. The young man 
 really wants to marry you ; if you do not love 
 him, it would be much better to tell him so than 
 to allow him to vainly hope." 
 
 " I didn't tell him to hope ; well, we'll see. 
 Would you not like to see me marry a clerk on 
 eight hundred francs, so that on Sunday he might 
 feast me at a restaurant for twenty-two sous ? Very 
 much obliged ! I don't think, as does my uncle, 
 that that would be very nice. I want that M. Gin- 
 guet should have the wit to make a fortune like 
 M. Edmond, but he is too heavy, too apathetic 
 for that. You ought to be happy! you will have 
 a hotel, diamonds, a carriage ; you'll take me out 
 in your carriage, won't you ? " 
 
 " Oh, I haven't got one yet." 
 
 " How we shall amuse ourselves then. We will 
 go every morning to the Bois-de-Boulogne to 
 Saint-Cloud, to Meudon. When people keep their 
 own carriage they can go where they like. Oh, 
 we'll travel ; you shall take me to see the sea." 
 
 " Are you mad, my dear Pelagic ? " 
 
 " Why, I have a great desire to see the ocean 
 but with a husband who has only eight hundred 
 francs it'll be as much as I can do to go and see
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 33 
 
 the fountains play in the park at Versailles, and we 
 shall have to take an omnibus to get there. How 
 amusing that will be ! " 
 
 "Is not one always entertained when one is with 
 the person one loves ? " 
 
 " That is no reason for swallowing the dust over 
 four miles of road. Oh, Constance, we must have 
 boxes at the play, too ; at several plays." 
 
 "At the opera too, I suppose {" 
 
 " Yes, at the opera and at Franconi's, I like to see 
 the horses. Then you will entertain, you will often 
 give dinners, evening parties, balls you will have 
 a fine orchestra with cornets, for, you know, my 
 uncle says they play some very pretty things on 
 that instrument now." 
 
 " But, my dear Pelagic, you know well that to 
 realize all the plans you have formed one would 
 need a very large fortune indeed ! " 
 
 "It seems to me that with thirty thousand 
 francs income one might satisfy all one's fancies." 
 
 " And do you think that Edmond is going to 
 offer me thirty thousand francs income to spend?" 
 
 " Certainly, and perhaps a good deal more. It 
 seems as though your cousin will get rich very 
 quickly ; the last time he came he seemed so 
 pleased, so highly satisfied with his speculations. 
 He rubbed his hands together, saying, Audaces 
 fortuna ! ' O mercy, I can't remember the rest. 
 But they were Latin words which certainly must 
 have meant * I am very rich.' '''
 
 34 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 " I don't understand them ; but I know that my 
 cousin stayed with us only a very short time, and 
 that I thought him a good deal kinder to me before 
 he dreamed of becoming rich." 
 
 The evening after this conversation Edmond 
 did not come to M. Pause's. The next evening 
 M. Ginguet came again alone and the young clerk 
 had a singular expression ; he was gloomy, seemed 
 embarrassed, and remained near the two friends 
 without saying a word to them. 
 
 " You have something the matter with you again 
 this evening," said Pelagic to him ; " and although 
 you have not a white waistcoat, your face is quite 
 changed ; have they cut down your salary already ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, mademoiselle it has nothing to do 
 with me." 
 
 " Nothing to do with you ? then it becomes 
 more interesting. Come, monsieur, explain your- 
 self." 
 
 "It is only that well, as I came here I met 
 M. Edmond Guerval." 
 
 " My cousin ? " 
 
 "Yes, mademoiselle, your cousin, and he looked 
 as if he was at his wit's end. He was pale, dejected." 
 
 " Good heavens ! is he ill ? " 
 
 " No, mademoiselle, he is not ill but certainly 
 there was something the matter with him. In the 
 first place he took my hand and squeezed it so as 
 to bring tears to my eyes." 
 
 "What then, M. Ginguet? what did he do?
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 35 
 
 You talk to us about your hand and you can see 
 very well that Constance is on thorns ! " 
 
 "Finally, M. Edmond said to me: ( Are you 
 going to M. Pause's this evening? ' On my an- 
 swering in the affirmative, he drew from his pocket 
 a letter and gave it to me, adding, ( Give that to my 
 cousin from me, don't fail to do so.' I promised 
 to perform his commission, and then he disap- 
 peared like a streak of lightning." 
 "And that letter, M. Ginguet?" 
 " It is in my pocket, mademoiselle." 
 " Well, give it to her quickly, why don't you ? " 
 said Pelagic; " that's what you ought to have begun 
 by doing." 
 
 M. Ginguet presented the letter to Constance, 
 and the latter took it with a trembling hand, and 
 read, 
 
 MY DEAR COUSIN : I wished to tempt fortune and my first 
 attempts were fortunate. Emboldened by this beginning per- 
 haps I was so too quickly however, all the chances seemed in 
 my favor, and I believed I should soon be able to place you 
 in a position worthy of you. But fate betrayed my trustfulness. 
 A dreadful fall in stocks that I could not foresee how can I tell 
 you ? I am ruined. If I had only lost what belongs to me 
 I might still be able to console myself, but I owe nearly double 
 what I possess ; I must therefore fail to keep my engagements 
 and so lose my honor. It is that which throws me into despair ! 
 that which kills me. Yes, which kills me ! for having lost honor 
 I cannot live. Good-by, my dear cousin, pity me and do not 
 curse me. Good-by forever, 
 
 EDMOND GUERVAL.
 
 36 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 The letter fell from Constance's hands, she 
 seemed stunned by this unexpected blow. 
 
 " Ruined ! " muttered Ginguet. 
 
 " Ruined ! " muttered Pelagic. 
 
 But Constance resumed her self-possession, and 
 her first act was to exclaim, 
 
 " Good heavens ! he means to die, for he has 
 bidden me good-by forever. To die because he 
 lacks money ! Why, does not what I have belong 
 to him ? Does Edmond doubt my heart ? Oh, I 
 must save him, prevent the execution of his dread- 
 ful plan. Pelagic, my hat, quick ! my shawl ! But 
 what does it matter, I can go as I am. M. Gin- 
 guet, will you take me there, give me your arm. 
 Come, oh, come quickly, it's a question of saving 
 Edmond's life." 
 
 Constance took the young clerk's arm and made 
 him go down the stairs four at a time. Ginguet 
 jumped and stumbled to keep up with her, as he 
 said, 
 
 " Is he loved, this M. Edmond ? Is he loved ? 
 Why, if I could only be as dear as that to Made- 
 moiselle Pelagic I should be capable of asphyxiat- 
 ing myself every day." 
 
 When they reached the street Constance said to 
 M. Ginguet, as they walked along, 
 
 " Lead me, monsieur, and oh, please, make 
 haste, it would be so cruel to get there too late." 
 
 " I will certainly conduct you, mademoiselle, but 
 where do you want me to take you?"
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 37 
 
 " To Edmond's you know where he lives ? " 
 
 " Yes, mademoiselle." 
 
 " If only we find him at home ! " 
 
 "Ah, that is doubtful." 
 
 "In fact, we shall learn perhaps oh, I must 
 see him." 
 
 Ginguet said to himself, "If her cousin is not 
 at home I don't see where we are to look further 
 for him ! " But he did not make this reflection to 
 Constance, whose grief and anxiety seemed to in- 
 crease with each moment. 
 
 They reached Edmond's; Constance left her 
 conductor to run and inquire of the porter, for in 
 great trouble one forgets the convenances, and the 
 young girl had no care for what people might 
 think of her in seeing her go to a young man's 
 lodging. Edmond was not at home ; he had been 
 out for a long time, and had said nothing to the 
 porter to indicate in which direction he had gone. 
 
 Constance felt her breast oppressed by a fright- 
 ful weight ; she returned in despair towards her 
 companion. 
 
 " He is not at home, and they don't know where 
 he has gone." 
 
 " I was afraid it would be so ; when I met him, 
 he did not look at all disposed to go to bed." 
 
 " No matter, we must find him ; come, M. Gin- 
 guet let us walk on." 
 
 " As far as you like, mademoiselle ; but where 
 shall we go ? "
 
 38 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 " To the Bourse." 
 
 " Mademoiselle, no one goes to the Bourse in 
 the evening, it is closed." 
 
 " Into the cafes, to the play how do I know 
 where we must go ? " 
 
 " M. Edmond did not seem to me to be think- 
 ing of going to the theatre." 
 
 " For all that, monsieur, my cousin must be 
 somewhere, and we must find him." 
 
 The young girl led her companion along; they 
 walked haphazard. When a young man of Ed- 
 mond's height or figure passed them, Constance 
 would exclaim, " There he is ! " and she would 
 make M. Ginguet run after the one who had 
 passed them ; but M. Ginguet would come back 
 saying, 
 
 "It was not he, and when I got close up it did 
 not look like him at all." 
 
 When they passed in front of a cafe M. Ginguet 
 must go in to it, also, in order that he might ascer- 
 tain that the one they were looking for was not 
 there. 
 
 For three hours Constance scoured Paris with 
 the young clerk, and she felt her hope vanish at 
 each step ; she did not weep, but she breathed 
 with difficulty, her forehead was burning, and her 
 gaze fixed and mournful. 
 
 M. Ginguet had been into fifty cafes ; he had run 
 after twenty passers-by and by some of them he 
 had been ill-received ; at last he was ready to drop
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 39 
 
 with fatigue, but he dared not say so, for the young 
 girl made no complaint, and a man is unwilling to 
 exhibit less courage than a woman, however much 
 he may wish to do so. 
 
 The half hour after eleven sounded, and M . Gin- 
 guet ventured to say, 
 
 "It is very late ; I am afraid M. Pause and 
 Mademoiselle Pelagic will be uneasy about you." 
 
 " Did you say it was very late ? " 
 
 " Half-past eleven." 
 
 "Then he must be in." 
 
 " M. Pause ? Oh, he has certainly got home 
 by now." 
 
 " My cousin, I mean, monsieur, it is my cousin 
 whom we are in search of, come, let us go back 
 to his place." 
 
 Ginguet dared not refuse, although he thought 
 the errand would be fruitless enough ; but as he 
 walked along with Constance he kept repeating to 
 himself, 
 
 "How this man is loved a fortunate man. 
 And he wishes to kill himself and rails at fate. 
 For all that, there was no need that Love should 
 have been blind ! " 
 
 They had reached Edmond's house, Constance 
 stopped trembling ; at this moment she felt her 
 strength leaving her, for she knew well that if 
 Edmond had not come in she must lose all hope. 
 
 She made up her mind, however; she knocked 
 and went in,
 
 4 o EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 " M. Edmond Guerval has been in about a 
 quarter of an hour," said the porter. 
 
 " He is at home ! " exclaimed Constance, joy- 
 fully. And the young girl immediately went 
 rapidly up the stairs without looking to see that 
 her companion was following her. 
 
 It was time that she did so, for Edmond, hav- 
 ing passed the evening in walking aimlessly about 
 Paris, reflecting deeply as he did so upon his cruel 
 position, had become convinced that there was no 
 way out of it for him but to commit suicide. Cer- 
 tainly that is a more expeditious way of overcom- 
 ing one's difficulties than to endeavor to regain what 
 one has lost by means of work, patience and per- 
 severance ; but in our time patience, perseverance, 
 and love of work are often rarer than a pistol shot, 
 and yet it is asserted that this is a century of enlight- 
 enment and progress. In regard to such conven- 
 tional matters as eating a dinner properly this may 
 be true; but as respects common sense, I take 
 exception to it. 
 
 Edmond, then, had come home firmly resolved 
 to put an end to himself. He had loaded his pis- 
 tols, then he had placed them on a table near him, 
 and given himself up to mournful regrets for his 
 short career. No doubt his pretty cousin occu- 
 pied a large share of his thought; at least, the poor 
 child well deserved to. 
 
 But at the very moment that Edmond took up 
 the pistol, Constance came into the room, seized
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 41 
 
 the hand that held the weapon, and threw herself 
 at his feet, exclaiming, 
 
 " Cousin, do you want to kill me also ? " 
 
 Edmond paused ; he looked at his cousin, who 
 was supplicating him with her beautiful eyes ; emo- 
 tion succeeded to despair and he dropped into a 
 chair, muttering, 
 
 " What, do you wish me to live dishonored, 
 Constance ? And I shall be if I do not meet my 
 engagements." 
 
 " But, cousin, have you forgotten that all I pos- 
 sess is yours. Dispose of my property I wish 
 it, I exact it, in the name of both our mothers, 
 who loved us so much and were so pleased to look 
 upon you as my protector, as the husband whom 
 Heaven destined for me." 
 
 "Constance, what are you thinking of ? Do 
 you mean that I should dispose of your fortune ? 
 If you only knew ! when I shall have paid all I 
 owe, on account of that unlucky and totally un- 
 expected fluctuation in stocks, you will hardly have 
 anything left." 
 
 " And what does that matter I shall be happy 
 then ; do you imagine I should be so in grieving 
 over your death ? " cried Constance. " You will 
 accept, Edmond, you must, I wish it hand me 
 some paper, quick ! and the ink, that I may give 
 you a letter to my banker. Oh, I am so pleased 
 that I can hardly write." 
 
 And the young girl seated herself at a desk ; she
 
 42 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 wrote with such evident delight that her cousin 
 standing near her could only silently admire her; 
 a little farther off, in a corner, M. Ginguet was 
 weeping like a child, and murmuring, 
 
 " What an act ! what devotion ! Here is a man 
 who is really loved ! Ah, Mademoiselle Pelagic, 
 how happy I should be if I could only inspire you 
 with a nineteenth part of that love." 
 
 Constance had finished writing, Ginguet had 
 ceased to weep. Edmond had consented to re- 
 ceive the help offered by his cousin. They were 
 happy, their troubles were forgotten ; they were 
 already making plans for their future happiness, 
 and Constance did not seem to regret the brilliant 
 fortune that her cousin had wished to give her. 
 
 M. Ginguet remarked that it was very late ; they 
 said good-by, promising to see each other on the 
 following day ; then Constance was led back to 
 M. Pause's by her faithful escort, who related at 
 once all that Edmond's cousin had done for him, 
 while the latter, with lowered eyes and confused 
 expression, listened like a criminal who is awaiting 
 his sentence. 
 
 Pelagic kissed her friend as she exclaimed, 
 
 " Well, if your cousin does not adore you, if he 
 doesn't make you the happiest of women, he will 
 show himself an ungrateful fellow ? " 
 
 " I did not think of placing him under an obli- 
 gation when I did it," said Constance. 
 
 As to honest M. Pause, he was much moved
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 43 
 
 as he listened to the story of the young girl's beauti- 
 ful action, and when it was ended he came and 
 took her hand and pressed it affectionately between 
 his own. 
 
 " My darling," he said in a low tone, "there are 
 many pretty things in what you have done in this 
 matter; but it would have been quite as well if 
 your cousin had not thought of becoming a mil- 
 lionnaire. However, there is no doubt that it 
 will be a good lesson for him, and I presume that 
 he will now decide on adopting some profession." 
 
 Edmond, thanks to his cousin's fortune, paid 
 everything that he owed ; but when he had done 
 so, there remained to Constance only eight hun- 
 dred francs income, just as much as Ginguet's 
 salary. 
 
 However, the young girl was quite untroubled 
 by the change in her fortune, the only trouble that 
 she experienced was in being obliged to diminish 
 the amount she had been paying M. Pause. 
 
 She was treated no less kindly by the honest 
 musician. One may be a very poor musician and 
 still have an excellent heart, which is decidedly a 
 compensation.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE BRINGUESINGUE FAMILY. A GRAND DINNER 
 
 " I WONDER why it is that M. Edmond still defers 
 his marriage with his cousin ? " said Pelagic to her- 
 self some time after these events. " First he craved 
 glory, then he had a desire for fortune, now does 
 he not know how to content himself with love?" 
 
 Constance said not a word ; but it is probable 
 that the same subject occupied her thoughts. Since 
 he had dissipated all his property and that of his 
 cousin, Edmond was often sad and dreamy, often 
 he would say to Constance, 
 
 " What sort of fate can I offer you ? I have 
 nothing and I am nothing. What happiness can 
 you hope for in the future with one who seems to 
 be pursued by a fatality ? " 
 
 And Ginguet said to himself, 
 
 " He doesn't want to marry her because he has 
 nothing; he did not want to marry her when he had 
 something, when is he going to marry her, then ? 
 Ah, if only some one loved me, how happy I 
 should be to marry her." 
 
 M. Pause had offered Edmond the place of tenor 
 violin in the orchestra at his theatre ; for although 
 Constance's cousin was not a distinguished instru- 
 
 44
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 45 
 
 mentalist, he knew enough of the tenor violin to 
 keep a place in one of the boulevard orchestras. 
 
 Edmond had responded to this proposition, 
 " What would that lead up to ? " 
 
 " Why, you would earn six hundred francs ! " 
 
 " Why, what the devil do you think I could do 
 with six hundred francs ? " 
 
 " Why, with it, if you were economical you 
 could do a little." 
 
 " No, M. Pause, I cannot play the second vio- 
 lin for six hundred francs, for instead of giving me 
 some taste for music it would make me a mediocre 
 musician and I should so stay forever. When one 
 knows that one can only earn so little one plays 
 accordingly." 
 
 " You are mistaken, my dear fellow ; the man 
 who loves his art never makes such calculations, 
 he seeks to acquire skill and often works harder 
 when he earns little than when he is well paid. I 
 could cite you, in support of what I tell you, sev- 
 eral of our virtuosos, our great artists, who began 
 in orchestras or in the secondary theatres." 
 
 Edmond persisted in refusing the place in the 
 orchestra. Some time after this, honest Pause, who 
 was always looking for some occupation for him, 
 told the young man that he had spoken to one of 
 his friends about him a manufacturer of paper 
 hangi ngs. 
 
 " Do you want me to decorate his paper hang- 
 ings ? " asked Edmond with a bitter smile.
 
 46 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 " No, my dear fellow ; but I was telling my 
 friend that you could paint very pretty genre pic- 
 tures; and he begged me to ask you to make him 
 six chimney boards whatever subjects you like, 
 either interiors or landscapes ; he will pay you 
 fifteen francs a piece." 
 
 "I paint chimney boards," said Edmond, turn- 
 ing scarlet with anger, " I abase my talent to that 
 point and for fifteen francs. M. Pause, don't think 
 of such a thing." 
 
 " Why, my dear fellow, six times fifteen francs 
 are ninety, and besides, what harm is there in paint- 
 ing chimney boards ? I know of some of our great 
 painters who are today members of the Institute, 
 who formerly painted signs. Do you think they 
 have less talent today because of that? Everybody 
 knows that artists are obliged to eat like other 
 people and that before working for fame they 
 must work for their stomachs." 
 
 " You may say what you like, monsieur, but I 
 shall not paint chimney boards, I would much 
 rather make toothpicks." 
 
 " Well, then, my dear fellow, make toothpicks, 
 but at least make something." 
 
 Such conversations as these were not at all en- 
 tertaining to Edmond, and to divert himself after 
 M. Pause's talk Constance's cousin still sometimes 
 went to one of the brilliant gatherings where he 
 had been very much sought after at the time of 
 his speculations on the Bourse, and where he was
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 47 
 
 still well received, because he had not been the 
 means of ruining anyone, was always dressed with 
 taste, had a pretty carriage, good manners, a thou- 
 sand means of making himself agreeable, and in 
 Paris one can live for a long time on this basis. 
 
 At one of these gatherings of people who had 
 the appearance of being wealthy and of whom some, 
 like Edmond, had not a sou, but where every one 
 was perfectly clad, Constance's cousin became ac- 
 quainted with the Bringuesingue family, which 
 was composed of father, mother, and daughter. 
 
 The father was a little man whose height would 
 have exempted him from the conscription ; his 
 head, set rather deeply between his shoulders, his 
 quick eye, his sharp nose, M. Bringuesingue looked 
 as if he wanted to appear jocular and one might 
 have been deceived into thinking he was so. 
 
 Following the custom of little men, he had mar- 
 ried a very big woman who, as she grew older, had 
 become very stout. She could easily have hidden 
 her husband behind her. 
 
 Their daughter took after her father for height 
 and her mother for stoutness. She had been rickety 
 and was rather awkward in her walk. Madame 
 Bringuesingue was taller than her husband and 
 her daughter by a head. 
 
 Here you have their physical description, let us 
 now pass to the mental. 
 
 M. Vendicien-Raoul Bringuesingue was the son 
 of a mustard manufacturer who had made a great
 
 48 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 deal of money, owing to the judicious mingling of 
 different aromatic herbs in the mustards he put up. 
 Thanks to this worthy manufacturer, the daily 
 beef of the bourgeoisie, who still hold to that fun- 
 damental dish, had seemed less insipid. 
 
 M. Bringuesingue, the son, far from diminish- 
 ing his father's reputation, had added to it by some 
 fortunate improvements in the manner of pickling 
 gherkins and had rapidly augmented his fortune. But 
 having only one daughter, and being possessed of 
 a noble ambition, at fifty M. Bringuesingue aban- 
 doned mustard, gherkins, and everything that 
 smelled of vinegar to throw himself into the whirl 
 of fashion and enjoy his fortune. 
 
 M. Bringuesingue having retired entirely from 
 business, had the weakness to wish to make people 
 forget that he had enriched himself thereby. He 
 had a fine apartment in the Chaussee-d'Antin, a 
 man-servant in livery ; he gave evening parties, 
 dinners where they never served mustard so 
 much did he fear reflection in fact, he endeavored 
 to put on all the airs of a great nobleman. 
 
 Madame Bringuesingue was an excellent woman, 
 whose one passion in life had been for dancing, 
 and this she still preserved although she was over 
 forty-five. For the rest she always conformed to 
 her husband's opinions, deeming him a most su- 
 perior man, and she waited for him to speak before 
 expressing an opinion. 
 
 All the affection of the worthy couple was of
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 49 
 
 course lavished on their daughter, who was their 
 only child. Mademoiselle Clodora had rather reg- 
 ular features and her parents thought no one so 
 beautiful as she. They had given her masters in 
 music, drawing and Italian, dancing and geometry, 
 geography and history ; the result of all this was 
 that at sixteen Clodora sang falsely, drew an eye 
 in such a manner that it could easily be mistaken 
 for an ear; her English vocabulary consisted of 
 the word "yes" and her Italian one of the word 
 "signer," she could not dance in time, thought that 
 Basle was in England, and Edinburgh in Switzer- 
 land, and quoted Louis XV as having wished 
 that his subjects might put the fowl in the pot. 
 Monsieur and Madame Bringuesingue, who were 
 incapable of perceiving the lapses their daughter 
 made in conversation, incessantly repeated that 
 Clodora had received an excellent education. 
 
 However, in receiving company, in entertaining 
 his guests well, not being familiar with the usages 
 of polite society, M. Bringuesingue often found 
 himself very much embarrassed, and neither his 
 wife nor his daughter could tell him what to do. 
 One circumstance which he was quick to profit by 
 served him marvellously well. 
 
 His male domestic having been found several 
 times in the cellar completely overcome by drink, 
 M. Bringuesingue had determined to look for an- 
 other, when one day he heard of the death of a rich 
 nobleman who lived in his neighborhood. The 
 
 Vol. XX
 
 50 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 ex-mustard dealer immediately hastened to his 
 hotel to confer with the count's butler and general 
 factotum. ' 
 
 " Were you in the count's service ? " 
 
 " Yes, monsieur." 
 
 " How much did he give you ? " 
 
 " Six hundred francs, clothes, board, lodging and 
 frequent gratuities." 
 
 " I offer you a thousand francs and the same 
 advantages and, what is more, you shall have an 
 authoritative position in my house, only I shall 
 count on you to give me certain information, that 
 is to say, to remind me as to what is customary 
 which I have forgotten ; having lived a long time 
 in the provinces, I am a little rusty for fine Parisian 
 manners. You who were in the service of the 
 count, who associated with all the best people in the 
 capital, must be acquainted with all those things, 
 must put me in the running." 
 
 Comtois, which was the valet's name, accepted 
 M. Bringuesingue's proposition with pleasure; he 
 understood immediately the advantages he would 
 enjoy at his new master's. In fact, Comtois became 
 indispensable to M. Bringuesingue, who never 
 failed to consult his new servant before doing any- 
 thing. 
 
 If he wanted to have a coat built the retired 
 mustard dealer would send for Comtois and ques- 
 tion him. 
 
 " How did the count have his coats made? "
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 51 
 
 "In the very latest fashion, monsieur." 
 
 " And of what color ? " 
 
 " According to his fancy." 
 
 " Very well." 
 
 And M. Bringuesingue, turning towards his 
 tailor, would say to him, 
 
 " Make me a coat in the very latest fashion 
 the color according to my fancy." 
 
 If it was a question of changing the furniture of 
 a drawing-room, of a bedroom, he would call 
 Comtois again. 
 
 " What kind of furniture did the count put in 
 his drawing-room ? " 
 
 " The same as you see everywhere, monsieur, 
 a couch, easy and other chairs and a piano." 
 
 Then M. Bringuesingue would send for an up- 
 holsterer and order furniture for his drawing-room 
 like that of the count. But it was on reception 
 days and the occasions of grand dinners that Com- 
 tois became a valuable man ; it was he who drew 
 up the menu of the repast, who ordered the man- 
 ner in which it should be served, the moment of 
 rising from table, the manner of taking coffee; he 
 it was, also, who directed how the drawing-room 
 should be lighted, where they should put the card 
 tables, how they should greet and receive their 
 company ; in fact, it was he who ordered every- 
 thing, and any one who had come when he was 
 making his arrangements might easily have taken 
 the master for the servant.
 
 52 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 Despite the lessons which he received every day 
 from Comtois, M. Bringuesingue still feared that 
 he should commit some awkwardness before com- 
 pany and had settled on a sign between himself 
 and his servant. When his master did anything 
 unconventional in good company or anything 
 which infringed the rules of etiquette Comtois 
 scratched his nose, and M. Bringuesingue, who 
 nearly always had his eyes on his valet, was then 
 warned that he was leaving the good road, and 
 tried to repair his foolishness. 
 
 This was the Bringuesingue family, who enjoyed 
 twenty-five thousand livres income at the time 
 when Edmond Guerval made their acquaintance. 
 
 Fortune destined that the young man should 
 play the piano for Mademoiselle Clodora to dance 
 with her mamma, that she might not miss her 
 contra-dance, and by some mistake he called the 
 papa M. "de " Bringuesingue. When he had done 
 this, he was found charming by the whole family. 
 Besides, Constance's cousin had all those super- 
 ficial qualities which suffice 'to please in society ; 
 he played the piano well enough for people to 
 dance to ; he sang, he could draw caricatures of 
 everybody in the company with facility, in fact, he 
 had assurance, he talked on every subject, even 
 though he did not understand it he spoke trench- 
 antly, decidedly, or he turned it into ridicule. 
 This is more than is necessary in society to im- 
 pose upon fools or even, sometimes, on men of
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 53 
 
 talent. Edmond, being invited to go to Bringue- 
 singue's did so ; and when he had left, the master 
 of the house said to his servant, 
 
 " What do you think of that young man ? " 
 
 " I think well of him, monsieur ; he has good 
 manners and is distinguished-looking." 
 
 " Comtois thinks he's distinguished-looking," 
 said M. Bringuesingue to his wife, in speaking of 
 Edmond. " I want to invite that young man to 
 dinner. I should like him to come often to our 
 house." 
 
 " We must give a little ball he dances very 
 well." 
 
 "He called me De Bringuesingue ; I don't know 
 whether he thinks I look like a nobleman." 
 
 " Probably he does, my dear." 
 
 Mademoiselle Clodora said nothing, though I 
 do not affirm that she thought the same ; however, 
 she seemed very pleased that Edmond was pleas- 
 ing to her parents. 
 
 Some days later M. Bringuesingue gave a grand 
 dinner and young Guerval was invited. There 
 were some men from financial circles and a large 
 sprinkling of ad venturers, parasites with good man- 
 ners who for a dinner are always ready to fling 
 incense before any one ; then there were some 
 artists and some military men, but no shopkeep- 
 ers ; the Bringuesingue family no longer associated 
 with people of that ilk. 
 
 Upon this occasion Madame Bringuesingue was
 
 54 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 attired in a gown that was too short and exposed 
 her shoes, which pinched her dreadfully, but she 
 hoped to dance, and expected to make a sensation 
 at the ball. Mademoiselle Clodora held herself as 
 straight and stiff as a ramrod, in order to give her- 
 self importance, and her father walked about, not 
 daring to take his eyes off Comtois whenever he 
 wanted to do or say anything. 
 
 Everything was ordered to please and gratify 
 the company, and M. Bringuesingue looked com- 
 placently around his drawing-room, which was 
 furnished precisely as had been that of the deceased 
 count, and said to himself, 
 
 " There is nothing there that smells of mus- 
 tard ! " 
 
 Every time the bell rang, M. Bringuesingue had 
 the habit of running towards the antechamber, but 
 Comtois pulled him back by his coat tail. 
 
 " Monsieur," said the servant, " you should 
 await your guests in your drawing-room, and not 
 go forward to meet every one." 
 
 " Very well, Comtois. I won't stir from my 
 drawing-room. But what must I do when we go 
 to dinner ? " 
 
 "Then you will take a lady's hand and lead the 
 procession." 
 
 " Very well, Comtois ; and then shall I seat my- 
 self at the table the first?" 
 
 " No, you will first of all seat the lady you take 
 in, on your right; and you will choose another to
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 55 
 
 sit at your left. Madame will do the same with 
 two gentlemen." 
 
 " Well, but don't they write the names of the 
 guests on some cards ? " 
 
 "No, monsieur, that is old-fashioned com- 
 mon ; it is not done now. The remainder will 
 place themselves according to their fancy. Of 
 course it is still easy for you to indicate certain 
 places to certain people, so they may be near those 
 with whom they are most congenial." 
 
 " I understand, Comtois, I quite understand all 
 that. Besides, I shall always have an eye on your 
 nose and if I should be about to commit a blun- 
 der you will warn me." 
 
 "Yes, monsieur." 
 
 The company came. M. Bringuesingue greeted 
 people exactly as his servant had taught him ; 
 Madame Bringuesingue made a grimace at each 
 person who came in, because she had to get on her 
 feet and her shoes caused her continual suffering ; 
 but generally speaking they thought she was smil- 
 ing ; Mademoiselle Clodora stood as straight as 
 a Cossack officer and the whole company exchanged 
 the customary compliments, not one word of which 
 they meant which is also customary. 
 
 Edmond Guerval accepted the invitation which 
 he had received ; for the evening before M. Pause 
 had proposed that he should copy some author's 
 manuscripts, and that had put him in such a bad 
 temper that he had great need of distraction.
 
 56 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 They went to take their places at the table, and 
 either by chance or intention they placed Edmond 
 beside Mademoiselle Clodora. 
 
 The first course passed off very well; the guests 
 were amiable, the food well cooked and served, and 
 M. Bringuesingue was delighted with himself, for 
 Comtois had not once put his finger to his nose. 
 
 At the second course, M. Bringuesingue, feel- 
 ing more at his ease, wished to touch glasses in 
 drinking his wife's health. As he held out his 
 glass to his neighbor, he saw that Comtois was 
 scratching his nose; the retired mustard dealer re- 
 mained motionless, daring neither to withdraw nor 
 tender his glass ; then he stammered, 
 
 " I offered to touch glasses however I know 
 very well that that is not done now people in 
 good society do not touch glasses it is bad form." 
 
 But Edmond interrupted M. Bringuesingue, 
 exclaiming, 
 
 " And why should not this old custom, which 
 was held in such high esteem by our good ances- 
 tors now-a-days people want everything to be 
 Gothic, after the style of the middle ages why 
 should we not do as to the customs of our tables 
 as we attempt to do in our costumes ? Really, 
 M. Bringuesingue, your idea is a very good one, 
 and you ought to congratulate yourself on having 
 entered the lists. Come, gentlemen, let us clink 
 our glasses, let us do things in knightly fashion." 
 
 M. Bringuesingue was delighted that his young
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 57 
 
 guest should have skilfully retrieved his error ; they 
 touched their glasses and drank to the happy 
 thought of the master of the house, and that which 
 would have been ridiculous became a mark of good 
 taste, because a young man, suspecting nothing, 
 had applauded instead of laughed at it. 
 
 The dessert arrived, M. Bringuesingue, who 
 now felt very cheerful and who was quite proud of 
 having successfully renewed an ancient custom, 
 proposed a little song. 
 
 As he was going to set the example and let them 
 hear a little couplet he looked at Comtois ; the lat- 
 ter was rubbing his nose of set purpose. 
 
 M. Bringuesingue remained with his mouth 
 open, he looked like a china image and every one 
 was expecting him to begin. But instead of sing- 
 ing M. Bringuesingue said, 
 
 " I proposed to you to sing, but it was only a 
 joke I know very well that people no longer 
 sing at table, it is no longer the custom and then 
 I don't know any songs " 
 
 " By Jove ! Monsieur de Bringuesingue, here 
 you are again with your scruples. You are really 
 too strict an observer of etiquette. Does not the 
 custom of singing at the table also date from the 
 good old times when they at once turned every- 
 thing into a song or ballad ? Why should we 
 of today not do the same ? We have touched our 
 glasses, we may very well sing, for one thing ac- 
 cords with the other. We do but resume the
 
 58 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 fashions of our ancestors. I wager it will come 
 into fashion yet like the ball costume. I am quite 
 willing, I will sing you { Bonne Esperance,' a new 
 ballad by Frederic Berat, the author of ' Ma Nor- 
 mandie' and so many other charming productions, 
 and at table as well as in the drawing-room, I am 
 sure it will afford you pleasure." 
 
 Edmond sang and was highly applauded, another 
 young man did the same, a lady willingly sang 
 and another followed her; in short every one 
 wanted to sing, and M. Bringuesingue was very 
 much delighted with Edmond, who had so skil- 
 fully turned his awkwardness into bright ideas. 
 
 After they had had enough singing they went 
 into the drawing-room. There the card tables were 
 being arranged ; but M. Bringuesingue did not 
 like cards. However, they could not dance, for 
 as yet there were not enough people; but, although 
 Madame Bringuesingue was as lame as possible, 
 she had already placed herself several times and 
 called for a vis-a-vis, they could not form a contra- 
 dance, for most of the guests preferred bouillotte 
 to ladies' chain. 
 
 To amuse his wife and daughter, M. Bringue- 
 singue saw nothing better than to propose a game 
 of hot cockles, and the host had already got down 
 on his knees, and was going to offer his back when 
 he saw his valet in a corner of the drawing-room 
 who, while putting candles on a table and dispos- 
 ing seats, scratched his nose continually.
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 59 
 
 M. Bringuesingue remained on his knees before 
 the company, but he did not offer a back, and 
 when he had again looked at Comtois he decided 
 to pick himself up, saying, 
 
 " No, I really think it would be very bad form 
 to play hot cockles. We must leave such puerile 
 amusements to the good bourgeois of the Rue 
 Saint-Denis but in the Chaussee-d'Antin " 
 
 Edmond who had been about to take part in 
 the parlor games, having his own reasons for avoid- 
 ing cards, again interrupted his host, saying, 
 
 " Well, is no one free to do as he likes, to amuse 
 himself in the Chaussee-d'Antin ? As for me, I 
 think these simple games are far better than bouil- 
 lotte and ecarte ! They make one laugh and one 
 loses no money at them both of which are bene- 
 ficial results. Besides, our greatest men have been 
 fond of the most frivolous recreations. Cardinal 
 Richelieu used to exercise himself in his garden 
 by jumping with his feet close together; Cato was 
 very fond of dancing ; Antiochus played charades 
 with Cleopatra; and good King Henri IV used to 
 walk on all fours with his children on his back." 
 
 "If Henri IV walked on all fours," said 
 M. Bringuesingue, " I don't see why Comtois 
 rubbed his nose when I got down on my knees. 
 They may play hot cockles with my hearty con- 
 sent." 
 
 Edmond had already taken the place of the 
 master of the house; he held his hand on his back
 
 60 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 and each one struck it, laughing heartily, for peo- 
 ple laugh a good deal in these little simple games. 
 This diversion was prolonged for some time to the 
 immense gratification of Mademoiselle Clodora and 
 her father. However, several persons having ar- 
 rived to increase the gathering, Madame Bringue- 
 singue, who was longing to dance and who did not 
 wish to suffer all day in her shoes without having 
 her little feet admired in the evening, found a way 
 to organize a contra-dance and begged Edmond to 
 take his place at the piano. 
 
 Constance's cousin did not allow her to ask him 
 twice ; he played several quadrilles. Madame 
 Bringuesingue was indefatigable ; she had no sooner 
 finished one dance than she looked for a partner 
 to begin again. As gentlemen were not very num- 
 erous in the dance, M. Bringuesingue decided to 
 invite his wife to dance with him, a thing he had 
 not done for a long time. 
 
 But the ex-mustard dealer got mixed up in the 
 figures sometimes and in one of them, when they 
 were playing the music of the "Puritan" quadrille, 
 which, no doubt, he took for " The Little Milk- 
 maid," he ran after the lady who was advancing 
 and retreating opposite him and tried to kiss her. 
 
 The lady tried to escape M. Bringuesingue's arms, 
 but the latter was pursuing her with great leaps 
 when at the entrance to the drawing-room he saw 
 Comtois scratching his nose fit to make it bleed. 
 
 JVL Bringuesingue stopped with one leg in the
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 61 
 
 air and his arm curved. Finally, he decided to 
 place his foot on the floor and exclaimed, 
 
 " I really don't know what I am thinking of! 
 I am so stupid. I thought we were dancing The 
 Little Milkmaid,' but they don't dance that now 
 it's bad form." 
 
 " Pardon me, M. de Bringuesingue," said Ed- 
 mond without leaving the piano, " they ought to 
 dance it again, for old airs are again in favor since 
 Musard has written a gothic quadrille and that 
 was a happy thought of yours to dance 'The Little 
 Milkmaid ' ; you will put it into fashion again." 
 
 After finishing the " Puritan " quadrille, Edmond 
 began to play "The Little Milkmaid" in such a 
 hearty fashion that all were compelled to dance the 
 figure that the host had begun. 
 
 " Decidedly this young man is a good deal 
 sharper than Comtois," said M. Bringuesingue ; 
 "the one does nothing but scratch his nose to warn 
 me that I am doing something stupid, and the 
 other turns everything so that all I do is bright 
 and clever. He calls me ' De Bringuesingue.' 
 Those who hear will do the same, and little by 
 little the ' de ' will become a part of my name, 
 which will end in making a nobleman of me. Oh, 
 if I always had this young man near me I should 
 conduct myself much better in society."
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 A PROPOSITION. SELF-SACRIFICE 
 
 EVERYBODY had gone, and the Bringuesingue 
 family, finding themselves alone, were unsparing 
 in their praises of Edmond Guerval, for, apart 
 from all the good turns he had rendered the mas- 
 ter of the house, he had played the piano and en- 
 gaged in the game of hot cockles in so very 
 obliging a manner that the mother and daughter 
 were delighted with him. 
 
 Meanwhile, M. Bringuesingue gave himself up 
 more than ever to his mania for playing the noble- 
 man, and went a good deal into such society as his 
 twenty-five thousand francs income gained him 
 admission to ; but Edmond was not always there 
 to repair the ex-mustard dealer's mistakes, and then 
 the latter, being duly warned by his servant, did 
 not know how to get out of his predicaments. 
 
 Finally, at a grand dinner given by an advocate, 
 to which M. Bringuesingue had been invited, he 
 fell into so many blunders that Comtois' nose, by 
 dint of scratching, was as red as a cherry ; and on 
 their return home the master quarrelled with his 
 servant. 
 
 " I cannot cut my bread or ask for a little more 
 
 62
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 63 
 
 soup," said M. Bringuesingue to Comtois, " with- 
 out seeing you touch your nose. It disturbs me 
 and embarrasses me, and I don't know what I am 
 doing." 
 
 " No one cuts his bread or asks for more soup," 
 said Comtois, " it is very bad form ; you told me 
 to warn you when you did unconventional things, 
 and I did warn you. It's not my fault that you 
 are always doing them." 
 
 " If M. Edmond had been there he would have 
 managed it so that instead of having done some- 
 thing foolish, I should have done something very 
 witty. That restores my self-confidence, my assur- 
 ance, and enables me to make myself amiable 
 again ; but you bother me, and I don't know where 
 I am." 
 
 " Confound it, monsieur, it is not very enter- 
 taining to me to be so often obliged to warn you 
 that you are committing a solecism. Since I have 
 been in your service my nose has grown one-third 
 larger." 
 
 " That is not true ! " 
 
 " I must have an increase of a hundred crowns 
 or I can't stay with you." 
 
 " You have a thousand crowns from me now, 
 and you do hardly anything but scratch your nose ; 
 it seems to me that is quite enough, and I shall not 
 increase it." 
 
 " Then I shall leave you, monsieur." 
 
 M. Bringuesingue allowed his servant to go with-
 
 64 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 out regrets; since he had seen Edmond applaud 
 all that Comtois blamed, the count's valet had lost 
 much merit in his sight; on the other hand young 
 Guervalhad become indispensable, and nearly every 
 day the Bringuesingue family sent him invitations. 
 
 When Comtois was dismissed M. Bringuesingue 
 said to himself, 
 
 " Although I have acquired very good manners, 
 I feel that sometimes I am still a little embarrassed 
 in society. M. Edmond is the only person who 
 knows how to present my actions there in an ad- 
 vantageous light. If that young man was always 
 with us I should always do the right thing and 
 should be taken altogether for a gentleman ; now 
 how can I attach M. Edmond to us. Hang it! 
 I can give my daughter in marriage to him. The 
 young man has confessed to me that unfortunate 
 speculations have deprived him of his fortune ; but 
 he is very gentlemanly and accustomed to good 
 society, moreover, he always calls me De Bringue- 
 singue. I have but one daughter, and I greatly 
 prefer that she should marry a gentlemanly man, 
 whose fortune she would make, than a rich clown, 
 whose manners would be bad and who would al- 
 ways be joking me about mustard or mushrooms." 
 
 M. Bringuesingue imparted his plan to his wife, 
 who jumped for joy ; for, with a son-in-law who 
 played so well on the piano, she hoped to be able 
 to dance every day. Clodora was also informed 
 of their project, and, like a submissive girl, she
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 65 
 
 curtseyed and answered that she would obey her 
 parents with pleasure. 
 
 It only remained, therefore, to sound the young 
 man. M. Bringuesingue, who did not doubt but 
 what Edmond would be only too happy to marry 
 his daughter, undertook to inform him what he 
 wished to do for his happiness. 
 
 He invited Edmond to lunch tete-a-tete with 
 him, and at dessert he rubbed his hands as he said 
 to his guest, 
 
 " My dear fellow, you are of good family, I 
 know ; you have received a fine education, that is 
 easily seen ; you have wit, and that goes a long 
 way with me ; so, although you have no fortune, 
 I wish to ensure your happiness. With this in 
 view, I will give you my daughter in marriage. She 
 is my only child ; I have twenty-five thousand 
 livres income ; I shall give her half of it ; we will 
 all live together, and you shall manage the house." 
 
 Edmond was astonished at this offer, which was 
 quite unexpected to him. He remained for some 
 moments silent, uncertain ; at length he remem- 
 bered his cousin and answered, 
 
 " I am greatly moved and flattered by your 
 proposition, monsieur, but I cannot marry." 
 
 " You cannot marry ? Perhaps you are already 
 married ? " 
 
 " No, monsieur." 
 
 "In that case I don't see what is to prevent 
 your marrying my daughter." 
 
 Vol. XX
 
 66 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 " Monsieur, I deeply regret the fact, but " 
 
 " But just think of it, my dear fellow ! Made- 
 moiselle Clodora Bringuesingue is a splendid 
 match " 
 
 " That is exactly why " 
 
 " Oh, I understand delicacy on your part; you 
 want to be rich also, and not owe everything to 
 your wife. But I must tell you again, that we care 
 nothing for that. To make money is not the only 
 consideration ; fie ! we'll leave that to parvenus ; 
 a distinguished appearance and the manners of good 
 society, that is what I consider. You suit me ; I 
 have sent Comtois off, I want to follow your ad- 
 vice only. From this moment look upon your- 
 self as one of the family oh, I don't want to 
 hear anything ; reflect upon it, and you will find 
 that you cannot refuse my daughter." 
 
 Edmond left M. Bringuesingue ; and the propo- 
 sition the latter had made him became from that 
 time forth the continual subject of his reflections. 
 
 While all this was passing Constance, who had 
 sacrificed her fortune to her cousin, worked assidu- 
 ously and without complaint beside Pelagic, who 
 continued to tease M. Ginguet. 
 
 Constance wept sometimes, it is true, but it was 
 in the silence of the night when no one could see 
 her tears or hear her sobs, for the young girl could 
 see that every day her cousin abridged his visits 
 to M. Pause's ; and when he was with her, instead 
 of talking to her with the freedom that love permits,
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 67 
 
 Edmond remained cold, cautious, and sometimes 
 even said nothing. At first Constance had attribu- 
 ted this to the mortification which her cousin might 
 experience at his reverses of fortune, but in the 
 depths of her heart something said to her, 
 
 " If he loved me as I love him would he not 
 have something else to think about but the loss of 
 his money ? Am I, then, nothing to him ? and, 
 since I am left to him, why should he not be 
 happy ? " 
 
 Pelagic no longer dared to mention her brides- 
 maid's costume ; M. Ginguet himself dared not 
 sigh aloud, for he feared that it might grieve Con- 
 stance to hear him speak of love in her hearing, 
 when the one she loved so much never spoke of 
 it to her. As for good M. Pause, he was continu- 
 ally looking for employment of some kind for 
 Edmond, and often had something to propose to 
 him ; but in order that he might not have to listen 
 to the old musician Edmond always left before he 
 came back from the theatre. 
 
 Several days passed, during which Edmond did 
 not come regularly ; then his visits became shorter 
 than usual, and he was even more absent-minded 
 and preoccupied. 
 
 " There is certainly something the matter with 
 your cousin," said Pelagic one evening to Con- 
 stance; "he comes here to sit down in a corner and 
 sigh, and hardly speak. No doubt he has some 
 new plan in his head, he wants to make himself
 
 68 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 rich again, and to surprise you with handsome 
 presents when he marries you. I'll wager he thinks 
 of that incessantly." 
 
 Constance shook her head and made no reply 
 to this. Presently came M. Ginguet, who said to 
 the young girls, 
 
 " I know now why M. Edmond is so often in 
 a brown study. I met him this morning and we 
 talked together for a long time. When young men 
 get together they talk about their affairs." 
 
 "For mercy's sake, M. Ginguet, come to the 
 point." 
 
 " M. Edmond mentioned the Bringuesingue 
 family to me, he goes there very often. They are 
 very rich people retired business people who 
 have only one daughter a rather nice-looking 
 young person but she halts a little when she 
 walks." 
 
 "What, then, M. Ginguet?" 
 
 " Finally, Edmond said to me, 'You can't ima- 
 gine, my dear fellow, what M. Bringuesingue has 
 proposed to me?' * By Jove, no, I can't,' I replied, 
 ' in the first place, I am not very good at guessing. I 
 have never so much as guessed a charade or a rebus.' " 
 
 " Oh, M. Ginguet, you abuse our patience," 
 said Pelagic. 
 
 "Excuse me, mademoiselle, I am only repeating 
 our conversation to you. c Well,' said Edmond, 
 * M. Bringuesingue has offered me his daughter in 
 marriage.' '
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 69 
 
 " Daughter ? " said Constance, changing color. 
 
 "You are telling a falsehood, M. Ginguet," said 
 Pelagic ; " M. Edmond could not have told you 
 that." 
 
 " I swear to you, mademoiselle, that it is the 
 exact truth. But don't grieve over it, Mademoi- 
 selle Constance, for your cousin added, * You may 
 well imagine, my dear Ginguet, that I refused. 
 Although I haven't a sou, and Mademoiselle Clo- 
 dora is rich, I could not accept, for I am bound to 
 my cousin by friendship, gratitude, and duty. I 
 look upon her already as my wife. Our mothers 
 betrothed us and ' Good heavens, mademoi- 
 selle ! are you ill ? " 
 
 Constance, in truth, could not support herself; 
 she had let her head fall back on her chair and 
 seemed about to lose consciousness; Pelagic sup- 
 ported her, and made her inhale some salts, saying 
 meanwhile to M. Ginguet, 
 
 " A nice thing for you to come and tell that ! 
 oh, what a gossip you are ! and you never have 
 anything but bad news to tell." 
 
 " Why, mademoiselle, there's nothing bad in 
 that news; on the contrary, M. Edmond has not 
 the slightest intention of marrying anyone but his 
 cousin." 
 
 " All the same, you shouldn't have told that to 
 Constance." 
 
 As the latter opened her eyes, Ginguet exclaimed 
 again,
 
 70 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 " I assure you, mademoiselle, upon my honor, 
 that your cousin said to me : ' If they were to offer 
 me a woman with a million, I would not take her 
 because I cannot. I look upon myself as bound 
 to my cousin and I am incapable of failing in my 
 duty. I would not accept a princess or a duchess, 
 an honest man can but keep his word.' ' 
 
 "That is right that's right, M. Ginguet. I 
 thank you for having told me all this." 
 
 "It gives you pleasure, does it not, mademoi- 
 selle?" 
 
 " Yes, I am very glad to know it." 
 
 Poor Constance spoke no more during the re- 
 mainder of the evening, despite all Pelagie's efforts 
 to enliven and all M. Ginguet's attempts to cheer 
 her by exclaiming from time to time, 
 
 " M. Edmond Guerval is an honest young man, 
 he would refuse the possessor of a gold mine for 
 a wife he looks upon himself as bound to his 
 cousin." 
 
 Pelagic nudged Ginguet and kicked him under 
 the table to silence him every time he adverted to 
 the subject. 
 
 When Constance found herself alone in her 
 room she felt she could abandon herself to her sor- 
 row, for the young girl was under no delusion ; 
 she felt sure that if her cousin had refused the rich 
 match that had been proposed to him it was be- 
 cause he believed himself bound to her to such an 
 extent that he could not dispose of himself.
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 71 
 
 " But it is not love for me that causes him to 
 refuse another," said Constance to herself; " oh, 
 no, for if my cousin loved me he would not be so 
 sad and dreamy when with me. He will fulfil his 
 duty in marrying me, that is all, and he will be 
 unhappy doubly unhappy because I shall have 
 prevented his enjoying the brilliant future which 
 opens out before him. But, because I was once 
 able to oblige him, does he suppose that I wish to 
 be an obstacle to his fortune, that I shall exact from 
 his gratitude the sacrifice of his liberty, his future. 
 I love Edmond too deeply to be willing to deprive 
 him of all the advantages he would find in such a 
 union as the one that is proposed to him. What 
 does it matter if I die of grief later on, provided 
 that my cousin is happy ? What if I should tell 
 him he is free, and advise him to marry this Made- 
 moiselle Clodora? he would not obey me. Oh, 
 no, I know Edmond he would be fearful of caus- 
 ing me pain. My God ! how can I manage so that 
 he may think himself free to marry without griev- 
 ing me ? It is necessary, yes, absolutely necessary, 
 that he should believe that I no longer love him." 
 
 All night poor Constance wept and tried to think 
 by what means she could make her cousin believe 
 that she had ceased to love him, in order that he 
 might not think he was acting badly in marrying 
 some one else. 
 
 Towards morning she had conceived a plan 
 which could not fail to accomplish the end she had
 
 72 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 in view. It was hardly light when she sat down 
 to write a draft of a letter; then, as soon as it was 
 time to go out, she went to a public scribe and had 
 him write the letter from her copy, dictated the 
 address to him, and, with a full heart, hardly able 
 to breathe, she directed her steps towards a pillar 
 post to drop into it the fatal letter. 
 
 The young girl was trembling and hardly had 
 the strength to walk along the street; several times 
 she passed a letter box and could not make up her 
 mind to drop the letter into it ; she felt that the 
 happiness of her whole life would go with it. It 
 was her future and the illusions of her youth that 
 she was going to sacrifice ; her portion would be 
 tears and the memory of a fine action, and at twenty 
 years a great deal of courage is necessary for the 
 accomplishment of so great a sacrifice. There are 
 many people who live and die without the ability 
 to understand such actions. 
 
 However, the morning was passing, and Con- 
 stance had not yet dropped her letter into the post; 
 she scolded herself for her weakness and running 
 towards a box which she saw at the door of a cafe, 
 she tremblingly dropped into it the missive she 
 had dictated. But, then, a mist obscured her sight, 
 and she was obliged to sit down for a moment on 
 a stone bench which stood near. 
 
 This bench she recognized as one on which she 
 had rested on that evening when in M. Ginguet's 
 company she had scoured all Paris in search of
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 73 
 
 Edmond and had obliged her companion to go into 
 all the cafes they had passed. This remembrance 
 brought fresh tears to her eyes, for in looking for 
 Edmond then she had not thought that one day 
 she would voluntarily renounce his love. 
 
 But the sacrifice was not yet complete. Con- 
 stance remembered that she needed a great deal of 
 courage for the part she had yet to perform ; and 
 summoning all her strength she rose from the 
 bench and went home. 
 
 During the course of the day Edmond, who 
 was at home and alone, was reviewing his situation, 
 his cousin's love, and M. Bringuesingue's propo- 
 sition when the porter carried up to him a letter 
 which the postman had just brought. 
 
 Edmond glanced at the writing, which he did 
 not know, and he carelessly took it out of its 
 envelope like one who expects neither good nor 
 bad news. 
 
 The letter bore no name, but Edmond's face 
 changed as he read these words, 
 
 You believe that your cousin Constance loves you, but you 
 are mistaken ; for a long time past her heart has been given to 
 another. If you doubt what is here written, go between seven 
 and eight o'clock this evening to the boulevard Saint-Martin near 
 the Chateau-d'Eau ; you will see your inconstant cousin awaiting 
 your fortunate rival there. Adieu, 
 
 ONE WHO is INTERESTED IN YOUR WELFARE. 
 
 " Constance loves another ! " said Edmond, an- 
 grily crushing the letter in his hands. " That is
 
 74 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 a shameful calumny the writer of this letter is a 
 wretch ! Constance, who is a model of virtue and 
 who has given me such great proofs of her attach- 
 ment Constance deceives ,me ! for it would be 
 deceiving me, her future husband. But it was an 
 anonymous letter, and only mischievous persons 
 write those ; persons who really wish to do any 
 one a service are not afraid to sign their names." 
 
 However, even while he said this, Edmond 
 felt agitated, uneasy; calumny, even when utterly 
 absurd, always finds a way of disturbing our peace. 
 And singular effect of passion and of true love 
 in the hearts of men Edmond, who a few mo- 
 ments previously thought but coldly and gloomily 
 of his union with his cousin; Edmond, who when 
 certain that she loved him had taken so little 
 trouble to show her that he returned her love, 
 Edmond felt jealously and passionately in love 
 with Constance now that he thought she could 
 love another. He walked agitatedly about his 
 room, rereading the note, which at first he had 
 thrown on the floor; he repeated all he had before 
 said as to the little reliance one should place in 
 an anonymous letter, but from time to time he 
 exclaimed, 
 
 " However, what could be the object of the 
 writer in sending me this letter ? Constance for 
 some time past has neither spoken of our marriage 
 nor of love it is true that I have not spoken to 
 her on those subjects either. I have nothing, no
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 75 
 
 occupation, no future ; she may have thought of 
 this, and some one has advised her to forget me. 
 But Constance loved me so dearly ! No, it is 
 impossible ! And then this appointment in the 
 evening, near the Chateau-d'Eau ; she has never 
 done anything of that sort, it is an odious lie. 
 But, as the writer says, I can assure myself as to 
 whether it is true or not with my eyes. Why, it 
 would be an insult to Constance were I to go there, 
 I should not see her. Some one is making game 
 of me. No, I shall certainly not go to assure my- 
 self as to the truth of what they have written to me." 
 
 As he thought thus, time passed slowly for 
 Edmond. He often looked at his watch, he was 
 impatient for the approach of the hour that had 
 been mentioned to him. He could not eat his 
 dinner for he was not hungry ; he longed for the 
 evening, and at seven o'clock was on the boule- 
 vard near the Chateau-d'Eau, although he still 
 kept repeating that he should be wrong to go there. 
 
 A quarter of an hour rolled by, Edmond had 
 seen no one who in the least resembled his cousin; 
 his heart dilated, and he breathed more freely, as 
 he said, 
 
 " By Jove ; how can any one put faith in anony- 
 mous letters ? Those who write them ordinarily 
 deserve all the threats, all the epithets they address 
 to others." 
 
 Suddenly Edmond perceived a woman whose 
 figure recalled that of Constance. He waited, he
 
 76 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 stopped, he felt a frightful weight oppressing his 
 chest. It was almost dark; this woman was ad- 
 vancing with a faltering step, often looking behind 
 her as though she feared she was followed ; all of 
 which indicated that she had come to meet some 
 one. Edmond could hardly breathe, for the wom- 
 an passed by him and, despite the bonnet which 
 hid her face, he recognized Constance. 
 
 "It is she ! " said he, " it is she ! they did not 
 deceive me. But no, I can't believe it, even now; 
 my eyes are deceiving me I must hear her voice." 
 
 And Edmond immediately ran after the person 
 who had just passed ; he reached her, he took her 
 arm. She turned her head ; it was indeed Con- 
 stance and she was so pale and trembling, so agi- 
 tated at seeing her cousin, that it all added to the 
 appearance of her guilt. 
 
 The young girl stammered, "Edmond, is it 
 you ? " and covered her face with her handkerchief. 
 
 " Yes, it is I," answered Edmond in furious 
 tones ; "it is I whom you have deceived whom 
 you no longer love. Be frank, cousin ; tell me 
 what you are here for alone in the evening. 
 What! you are silent? you can find nothing to 
 say to me ? you are overwhelmed ? Then it is 
 really true, Constance ; another man has your love, 
 and it was he whom you hoped to find here ? " 
 
 " I do not seek to deny it," answered Constance 
 in a hardly audible voice. " Yes, cousin, you are 
 now aware of the truth. I have ceased to love you.
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 77 
 
 For a long time past I have wanted to tell you so, 
 but I dared not. Forgive me and forget me. 
 Good-by, Edmond, it is useless for us to meet 
 again." 
 
 As she finished these words, Constance fled. It 
 was time the poor little thing should depart, for 
 sobs were stifling her voice ; and, if Edmond had 
 not been blinded by jealousy he would have thought 
 it very singular that his cousin should have wept 
 so bitterly when she told him that she had ceased 
 to love him. 
 
 But Edmond had heard, had understood but one 
 thing, and that was that his cousin had ceased to 
 love him, and that for a long time she had wanted 
 to confess it to him. Edmond felt his heart 
 wounded, for he had believed in Constance's love ; 
 and it was perhaps this positive certainty, this too 
 great confidence in a love which dated from infancy 
 which had stifled and almost extinguished in his 
 breast the tender feeling he had had for his cousin. 
 One goes to sleep in the certainty of a perfect hap- 
 piness, but one is wakeful when one has some un- 
 easiness as to its possession. 
 
 Stunned by the blow he had received, Edmond 
 remained on the boulevard ; he had allowed his 
 cousin to depart without making the slightest effort 
 to detain her. 
 
 " But why should I detain her," thought he, as 
 he looked sadly around him ; " has she not said 
 that it would be useless for us to meet again ? "
 
 78 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 A throng of reflections assailed Edmond ; in 
 a moment he recalled all his past conduct, his indif- 
 ference, his coldness to Constance, the impediments 
 he had put in the way of their marriage, the suc- 
 cessive delays, when he had been engaged for so 
 long to be his cousin's husband ; his plans for ac- 
 quiring fame and fortune, which had only resulted 
 in his ruin, and which he never would have formed 
 had he been contented with a happiness more real 
 than anything he now had in prospect. 
 
 " I have lost Constance's heart through my own 
 fault," said Edmond to himself sighing ; " my con- 
 duct has been very bad I have much with which 
 to reproach myself however, had she loved me 
 as much as I thought she did, she would have for- 
 given me all that." 
 
 But spite and jealousy again took possession of 
 his soul. 
 
 " What a fool I am," he exclaimed, " to grieve, 
 to give myself up to regrets, I must forget her as 
 soon as possible. A brilliant future is offered me, 
 which nothing now prevents me from accepting. 
 In the midst of the pleasures which fortune will 
 bring I will lose the remembrance of my unfaith- 
 ful cousin." 
 
 He called her unfaithful who had sacrificed to 
 him all she possessed. But jealousy is ever unjust ; 
 it stifles and extinguishes gratitude ; indeed, there 
 are not a few people who have no need of jealousy 
 to make them ungrateful.
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 79 
 
 Edmond went in search of M. Bringuesingue, 
 and without further preamble he called to him as 
 soon as he saw him, 
 
 " Monsieur, I have changed my mind ; I have 
 decided on accepting your daughter's hand, and 
 whenever you like I will become your son-in-law." 
 
 " By Jove ! my dear fellow, I was quite sure it 
 would end in this way, you could not seriously 
 think of refusing Clodora, for she has received an 
 excellent education, and will some day or other 
 have an income of twenty-five thousand livres, you 
 deserve that I should reproach you for having 
 seemed to hesitate for a moment even but, since 
 you have consented, it is needless, I do not want 
 to scold you, that would be serving the mustard 
 after the dinner. Oh, by Jove! how did I come 
 to say that ? That proverb is in the worst pos- 
 sible taste I don't know what I can be thinking 
 of. I meant to say that there, I don't know what 
 I meant to say. Kiss me, son-in-law, and come 
 and kiss your mother-in-law and your future wife." 
 
 Edmond allowed himself to be led to the per- 
 son he was going to call his wife, and while kissing 
 her he thought of his cousin and sighed deeply. 
 The image of Constance never left him for a mo- 
 ment; it was graven in the depths of his heart, it 
 followed him everywhere; in vain he sought to get 
 rid of it, to distract himself his cousin was ever 
 in his mind's eye, so beautiful, so good, so loving! 
 He saw her as she was when her mother united
 
 8o EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 them, saying, "Here is your betrothed wife"; he 
 saw her again throwing herself at his knees, and 
 staying his hand at the moment when, in despair, 
 he was trying to take his life. 
 
 " My God ! what a treasure I have lost," he said 
 to himself, "and I hardly took the trouble to think 
 about her when I was sure of possessing her." 
 
 But all these reflections did not prevent his mar- 
 riage to Mademoiselle Clodora Bringuesingue at 
 the expiration of a fortnight.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 MARRIAGE 
 
 PiLAGiE and her uncle were surprised that 
 Edmond no longer came to M. Pause's house, 
 they could not account for his conduct. 
 
 Although greatly changed and suffering deeply 
 since the evening on which she had gone to the 
 Chateau-d'Eau, Constance hid her trouble ; she 
 endeavored to lock her grief in the depths of her 
 heart, and she never pronounced her cousin's name. 
 When Pelagic blamed him, which happened nearly 
 every evening, as it grew late without Edmond 
 appearing, Constance would answer quietly, 
 
 " If my cousin no longer comes to see us, it is 
 probably because he is otherwise engaged or 
 pleasure calls him elsewhere. Why should you 
 wish him to come and bore himself here with us, 
 when he has a thousand opportunities to distract 
 himself in society ? " 
 
 " To bore himself with us ! Why should your 
 cousin feel bored when with you, to whom he owes 
 everything his honor, his existence? with you 
 who are so good to him ? with you whom he is 
 going to marry ? Really, Constance, I cannot under- 
 stand the tranquillity with which you bear your 
 
 Vol. XX 81
 
 82 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 cousin's unworthy neglect. In your place I 
 should write to him : f Monsieur, you are a wretch, 
 you are an ungrateful, ill-bred man ! ' 
 
 " Why, Pelagic, do you think that is the way 
 to bring back a wandering heart ? " 
 
 " No," murmured M. Ginguet, as he turned 
 over the leaves of a book, " one should never write 
 such things as that. It is very unconventional." 
 
 " M. Ginguet, I didn't ask your opinion, I 
 repeat, M. Edmond is an ungrateful wretch, and 
 is treating his cousin shamefully." 
 
 " Perhaps you may be wrong in blaming him, 
 my dear Pelagic ; you do not know, no, you can't 
 know what motives are actuating him. My cousin 
 is free to do as he pleases ; I should be sorry for 
 him to think, because I once obliged him, that he 
 must be the slave of his gratitude. Our parents 
 wished that we should marry, it is true, but we 
 have lost them, and since that time many events 
 have transpired. It seems to me that I ought to 
 regard those plans of our youth as a dream, and 
 Edmond probably looks upon it in that light also." 
 
 " That is different ! If you think your cousin 
 is right not to come and see you, not even to in- 
 quire whether you are alive, then, I have nothing 
 more to say and I should be wrong to blame 
 him." 
 
 Pelagic said nothing more. She did not speak 
 of Edmond for some time after this ; but in the 
 depths of her heart she felt her impatience, her
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 83 
 
 anger increase ; for she was sure that Constance 
 was concealing the grief she experienced at her 
 cousin's neglect. What else could it be that had 
 made her so dreamy, so sad, and which had faded 
 the pink color from her cheeks, formerly so fresh 
 and round and which now had grown so thin and 
 so frightfully pale ? 
 
 Pelagic, who was dying to know what had be- 
 come of Edmond, had several times said secretly 
 to M. Ginguet, 
 
 " Try to learn what he is doing, what has become 
 of him ; inquire about him, go to his lodging, and 
 tell me what you learn." 
 
 M. Ginguet had obeyed Mademoiselle Pelagic, 
 but up to this time had learned nothing except that 
 Edmond was not living at his former lodging. 
 
 One evening when the two young girls were ply- 
 ing their needles beside M. Pause, who had been 
 kept from the theatre by a slight attack of gout, 
 M. Ginguet arrived looking quite upset and with 
 his eyes starting out of his head. His emotion was 
 so evident that good M. Pause, who ordinarily 
 noticed nothing, was the first to say to him, 
 
 " My dear fellow, have you also been seized with 
 an attack of gout on the way here ? " 
 
 "No, monsieur, no but I would much rather 
 have the gout I would much rather have I 
 don't know what I wouldn't rather have than " 
 
 " Have you lost your place ? " inquired Con- 
 stance.
 
 84 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 " No, mademoiselle, on the contrary, I expect 
 shortly to have my salary increased raised to 
 twelve hundred francs. My superiors are very 
 well satisfied with me." 
 
 "Then what makes you look so scared ? " said 
 Pelagic, unmindful of the signs Ginguet made to 
 her when Constance was not looking. 
 
 "Why, because I've learned some news, fright- 
 ful news it is shameful ! after what he said to me 
 that other time too. After all, it is perhaps quite 
 as well that Mademoiselle Constance should know 
 it." 
 
 " I ? " said Constance fixing her eyes on the 
 young clerk, while Pelagic, who was beginning to 
 divine the nature of the news was making signs to 
 Ginguet to be silent. But the latter was exas- 
 perated and would not be silenced ; he walked up 
 and down the room, striking the furniture with his 
 fists as he repeated, 
 
 " Yes, it is shameful ! it is conduct quite un- 
 worthy of a man who has the least spark of gal- 
 lantry ; one has engagements or one has not, and 
 if one has them he ought to respect them. One 
 should not trifle with love ; in my opinion, there 
 is nothing that is more worthy of respect. I know 
 people think me foolish, but, all the same, I would 
 rather be foolish than insensitive." 
 
 " My dear fellow ! " said M. Pause, "there are 
 many pretty things in what you have just said ; 
 but that does not put us in possession of facts,
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 85 
 
 and Constance, as well as the rest of us, is impa- 
 tient that you should explain yourself more clearly." 
 
 "Well, then, Monsieur Pause it is I 
 learned this evening that mademoiselle's cousin is 
 married to Mademoiselle Clodora Bringuesingue." 
 
 " Married ! " burst from uncle and niece at the 
 same time. Constance said nothing; but her head 
 drooped sorrowfully. 
 
 " That is impossible, M. Ginguet," said Pelagic 
 after a moment ; " some one has deceived you, is 
 making game of you." 
 
 " No, mademoiselle, no one is making game of 
 me ; it is only too true ; when I was told such a 
 thing as that, don't you suppose I should make 
 sure that it was true? I went to inquire about it at 
 the house where M. Edmond is living now (he 
 lives with his father and mother-in-law), and in 
 fact, he has been married to Mademoiselle Bringue- 
 singue for the past month." 
 
 " Why, such conduct is infamous," said Pelagic. 
 " My poor Constance ! to forsake you like that ! 
 and still you say nothing you do not curse him. 
 Oh, you are too good a hundred times too good. 
 Oh, these men ! who would love them ? But 
 I will never leave you, never forsake you, dear, I 
 will try to console you and I shall never marry, 
 so as not to be separated from you, for everything 
 must give way to you ! " 
 
 So saying, Pelagic kissed Constance, and wept, 
 and hugged her, and the latter, who had kept
 
 86 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 back her tears for a long time, supported her 
 head on her friend's shoulder and felt a little 
 solaced as she gave free vent to her sorrow ; for 
 although she had quite expected this event, for 
 which she herself had prepared the way, Con- 
 stance had not sufficient courage to learn without 
 emotion that her sacrifice was consummated, that 
 her cousin was entirely lost to her. 
 
 M. Pause said nothing, but he was deeply moved, 
 and no longer felt the suffering he experienced from 
 his gout. M. Ginguet wept, and as he wiped his 
 eyes, muttered between his teeth, 
 
 " Because one man conducts himself ill that is 
 no reason for detesting them all in a lump ; 
 and then to vow she will never marry ! as if that 
 would give me any hope." 
 
 It was again Constance who was obliged to con- 
 sole everybody ; she had quelled her grief and she 
 appeared resigned as she said, 
 
 " But why are you all bemoaning me thus ? I 
 assure you I had long anticipated this event. I never 
 had any desire but that my cousin should be happy, 
 and I hope he will be so with the person he has 
 married. With me he would perhaps have ex- 
 perienced regrets, weariness. I had nothing to 
 offer him but poverty ; should I think it a crime 
 that he preferred fortune ? Oh, no, I swear to you 
 I would not have had him do otherwise ; I am not 
 unhappy, I have never been ambitious, and I have 
 true friends. But I ask you a favor let there be
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 87 
 
 no more question of my cousin; probably, we shall 
 not see him again. Well, I will try to forget him, 
 and the past shall be as nothing to me." 
 
 They promised Constance to obey her; they all 
 admired the courage and resignation of the young 
 girl ; but they did not share her partiality for 
 Edmond, whose conduct appeared to them inex- 
 cusable. Honest M. Pause blamed him, M. Gin- 
 guet despised him, and Pelagic reviled him. 
 
 However, Edmond was married and living in 
 the bosom of the Bringuesingue family. In the 
 first days, when he was as yet stunned by all that 
 had happened to him and the new ties he had 
 assumed, he had paid little attention to what was 
 going on around him ; but, his emotion being 
 calmed, Edmond began to reflect and to criticise 
 the persons with whom he lived. 
 
 The examination naturally began with his wife; 
 Clodora was good-looking enough as to her face, 
 but she had one of those expressionless physiog- 
 nomies, or, we will say rather, she had a face and 
 not a physiognomy ; of her brilliant education 
 nothing remained in her head, and her conversation 
 was very limited. In the first days of their union, 
 Edmond had attributed the paucity of her replies 
 to timidity ; but after six weeks of marriage she 
 might have dared to talk a little to her husband. 
 
 One day Edmond, being alone with his wife, 
 wished to consult her as to what use he should 
 make of their fortune.
 
 88 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 " My dear wife," said he, " your father has 
 placed your dowry, which consists of some two 
 hundred and fifty thousand francs, at my disposal; 
 do you think we ought to content ourselves with 
 spending the interest ? or are you of the opinion 
 that I should try and increase our fortune ? " 
 
 Clodora opened her eyes wide, looked at her 
 husband in astonishment, then, fixing her gaze on 
 the tips of her boots, she answered, 
 
 " Ah mercy I don't know." 
 
 " But I really ask your opinion ; as it is your 
 property that is in question, I don't wish to do 
 anything without consulting you. Are you am- 
 bitious ? " 
 
 " Ambitious ? I don't know no one has ever 
 spoken of it to me." 
 
 "Are you satisfied with what we have? Have 
 you formed any other desires ? Would you like 
 your husband to become a stockbroker ? a banker ? 
 a notary ? " 
 
 " Oh, it is all the same to me." 
 
 Edmond tapped his foot impatiently and bit his 
 lips with vexation. The young woman was alarmed 
 and recoiled from him, saying, 
 
 " What is the matter with you ? what makes you 
 scowl like that ? " 
 
 " There is nothing the matter with me, madame, 
 absolutely nothing." 
 
 And the young man went off, heaving a deep 
 sigh.
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 89 
 
 " My wife is most decidedly stupid," he said to 
 himself. 
 
 Madame Bringuesingue had been delighted to 
 seeEdmond marry her daughter, because M. Guer- 
 val played contra-dances very well indeed on the 
 piano; you are aware that dancing was a passion 
 with Clodora's mother. 
 
 When he should be her son-in-law, living in the 
 house with his wife's parents, Madame Bringue- 
 singue flattered herself that Edmond would play 
 contra-dances for her all day long and that she could 
 begin to dance immediately after breakfast. In fact 
 Edmond could scarcely come into the drawing- 
 room in the morning but Madame Bringuesingue 
 would say to him, " My dear son-in-law, play 
 a little contra-dance for my daughter and I, we'll 
 dance vis-a-vis." 
 
 Edmond dared not refuse, and Madame Bringue- 
 singue would set herself to advancing and retiring 
 with Clodora. Edmond, who thought it singular 
 to see his wife and his mother-in-law dancing thus 
 in the morning, would not play for long at a time. 
 But when it happened that visitors came and they 
 could dance a set of four, Madame Bringuesingue 
 would run to Edmond again and exclaim, 
 
 " Son-in-law, play a quadrille, there are four of 
 us. My daughter and I have some squires ; any 
 tune that you like will do very well." 
 
 There was no way to refuse ; the mother-in-law 
 was tenacious, she would lead Edmond by the hand,
 
 90 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 she would make him sit down; and the latter was 
 obliged to play a contra-dance, which he often did 
 ill-humoredly. 
 
 " Was it to have an orchestra continually at her 
 orders," he would say to himself, " that Madame 
 Bringuesingue gave me her daughter? But if she 
 thinks that I shall pass my time in playing for her 
 to dance, she will find she is very much mistaken." 
 
 As to M. Bringuesingue, he could not pass a 
 single day away from his son-in-law ; if he went 
 into society, to a dinner, a ball, he took Edmond 
 with him ; when he entertained, held a reception, 
 he always found it necessary that Edmond should 
 be beside him ; that gave confidence and self-as- 
 surance to the retired mustard-maker, who was 
 not afraid, then, to put in his word or venture an 
 opinion in conversation, being fully assured that 
 with his son-in-law's aid he should always be able 
 to say very good things and have excellent ideas. 
 
 But very soon it became dreadfully tiresome to 
 Edmond to have to accompany his father-in-law 
 everywhere. Since he had been married to Made- 
 moiselle Bringuesingue, he had not enjoyed a 
 moment's liberty. At home his wife and his 
 mother-in-law were incessantly demanding that he 
 should play dance music for them, and if he wanted 
 to go out his father-in-law never failed to accom- 
 pany him. 
 
 " What a hole I have got myself into," mused 
 Edmond. " Surely, it was my evil genius which
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 91 
 
 brought me into contact with the Bringuesingue 
 family. Oh, my cousin ! If I had married you 
 how happy I should have been ; for you were 
 pretty, you were gentle, and you possessed some 
 mind, three things that are rarely found together. 
 But you had ceased to love me! another had your 
 heart. In truth, if I had been your husband you 
 would never have known him who stole your love 
 from me." 
 
 A year elapsed. At M. Pause's, life went on 
 quietly and uniformly ; work, conversation, read- 
 ing filled all their time. Constance was sad, but 
 resigned, and a smile sometimes played about her 
 pale lips. They never spoke of Edmond, at least, 
 not before her ; and the young girl tried to appear 
 as though she had forgotten him. 
 
 M. Pause was wholly occupied with his 'cello, 
 and M. Ginguet with Pelagic; the latter continued 
 to play a thousand tricks on the young clerk, who 
 had now been advanced to twelve hundred francs. 
 
 In the Bringuesingue family they were far from 
 enjoying a similar tranquillity ; Clodora complained 
 that her husband was ill-tempered with her; the 
 mother-in-law complained that he often refused to 
 play for her to dance ; and the father-in-law also 
 complained because lately Edmond had allowed 
 him to say or do things for which he had been 
 laughed at, without turning them into marks of 
 wit. 
 
 Edmond had never been in love with his wife,
 
 and he had taken an aversion to Monsieur and 
 Madame Bringuesingue. To distract him from 
 the dreariness of his home life the idea came to 
 him to make speculations, not at the Bourse, but in 
 a small way, buying property that seemed cheap, in 
 the hope of turning a little money by the sale of it. 
 
 Unfortunately, Edmond understood no more 
 of business than he did of the fluctuations of stock. 
 He paid ready money for what he bought, and 
 sold it on time or on notes; he was delighted when 
 he sold at a profit; but often the assets he received 
 were never liquidated, and this apprentice speculator 
 was done out of his money and his expenses. 
 Then he would go home in a very bad humor and 
 receive his mother-in-law very ill when she came 
 to beg him to play a contra-dance, as he did his 
 father-in-law when he wished to take him out to 
 spend the evening. 
 
 Instead of giving up these enterprises in which 
 he was so unsuccessful, Edmond persevered in 
 them in the self-opinionated way too many men 
 have in regard to matters of which they know and 
 understand nothing. His self-respect was involved ; 
 later on he wanted to recover the money he had 
 lost, and he risked larger sums ; he gave an ear 
 to all the propositions which schemers made to 
 him ; and in trying to recoup himself he managed 
 to dissipate his wife's dowry; like those gamblers 
 who, having once begun to lose, never leave a game 
 until their pockets are quite empty.
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 93 
 
 One day in the course of his peregrinations, 
 which he prolonged as much as was possible, so as 
 not to be with his wife's family, Edmond met 
 M. Ginguet, who was just leaving his office. The 
 latter turned away, so as not to speak to Constance's 
 cousin, whose conduct had seemed to the young 
 clerk lacking in delicacy ; but Edmond ran after 
 him and caught Ginguet. He took him by the 
 arm, saying, 
 
 " Why, it's a long time since I saw you. How 
 many things have happened since then. It pleases 
 and pains me at the same time to find myself again 
 with you. But you looked as if you were running 
 away from me, why was that ? " 
 
 " By Jove, monsieur ! " said Ginguet, hesitat- 
 ingly, " it is because, since you have married, and 
 abandoned your poor cousin who loved you so 
 dearly, I do not care to be counted among your 
 friends." 
 
 " My cousin ! Ah, M. Ginguet, you are like 
 everybody else, you judge by appearances. Did 
 I not tell you that I would not accept any alliance 
 that was offered me ; that I looked upon myself 
 as engaged to Constance ? " 
 
 " Exactly so, you told me that and you have 
 acted quite contrary to what you said." 
 
 " And what if my cousin was the first to break 
 our promises ? What if she said to me, { You are 
 free because for a long time past I have ceased to 
 love you ' ? Well, monsieur, that was just what
 
 94 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 she did say. But I should not have believed it, 
 even then, had not other circumstances proved that 
 she was unfaithful to me ; I surprised her one even- 
 ing at a rendezvous." 
 
 " Mademoiselle Constance ? " 
 
 " Yes, monsieur, yes, Constance, and, confused 
 by my presence, she judged it fruitless to pretend 
 further. That is the truth, monsieur ; finding my 
 cousin had ceased to love me I married for spite, 
 in anger and I feel now that such marriages 
 never bring happiness. So you see, M. Ginguet, 
 it was not I who failed in keeping my engage- 
 ment. Good-by. You are more fortunate than 
 I, for no doubt you still see my cousin, and despite 
 the wrong she has done me I feel that it would 
 give me great pleasure to see her again. I could 
 talk to her, at least, and she would not always 
 answer, f I don't know ! ' or { It is all the same to 
 me ' ; but there, I mustn't think of her any longer ; 
 we are separated forever." 
 
 Edmond's eyes almost filled with tears as he pro- 
 nounced these words ; wishing to hide his emotion, 
 he squeezed Ginguet's hand and departed. The 
 young clerk remained there quite stupefied by what 
 he had heard ; and as his face always expressed all 
 that he felt, when he went that evening, as usual, to 
 M. Pause's, Pelagic easily saw that something new 
 had happened. The young man kept silent before 
 Constance ; he made signs to the young girl with 
 his eyes, she could not understand what he meant
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 95 
 
 but it increased her curiosity. Constance noticed 
 some of these signs, Ginguet's uneasiness had struck 
 her also. Guessing that he could not explain him- 
 self before her, she made a pretext of needing an 
 embroidery design which was in her bedroom and 
 left Ginguet with Pelagic ; immediately the latter 
 demanded of him what he had learned that was 
 new and why Constance should not hear it. 
 
 " What have I learned ? " said Ginguet rolling 
 up his eyes to the ceiling. " Ah, mademoiselle, 
 such things ! I haven't got over it yet, by Jove ! 
 Who would have suspected it? a young person so 
 well brought up ! " 
 
 " Please, please ! explain yourself more clearly." 
 
 After gazing upward again and striking his hands 
 one in the other, M. Ginguet decided to tell Pela- 
 gie of his meeting Edmond and all that the latter 
 had said to him concerning Constance. 
 
 As the young man proceeded, Pelagic became 
 more greatly agitated ; he saw that she could hardly 
 contain herself. She listened attentively, however, 
 for she did not wish to lose a single word ; but her 
 reddened cheeks, the fire in her eyes, her labored 
 breathing expressed all the indignation she felt. 
 
 " How dreadful ! " said Pelagie when M. Gin- 
 guet had done speaking, " what a shameful cal- 
 umny. It was not enough, then, that he should 
 lightly abandon her who had sacrificed all for him, 
 but he must defame her, dishonor her in the eyes 
 of the world, my Constance, my good, my sweet
 
 96 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 Constance, the model of all the virtues, whose heart 
 never knew any but noble and generous sen- 
 timents, it is Constance that he dares to accuse. 
 And you, monsieur, you could stand in cold blood 
 to hear such atrocious calumnies, you did not de- 
 fend my darling ? did not make him retract all that 
 he told you ? " 
 
 Ginguet was all of a tremble, for never had he 
 seen Pelagic so angry before. 
 
 " Mademoiselle I could not," he stammered. 
 " I did not know." 
 
 " You could not defend Constance, my dearest 
 friend ? You are a man, and you allow a woman 
 to be traduced ? Listen, M. Ginguet, I have but 
 one thing to say to you, you assert that you love 
 me, that you wish to marry me ? " 
 
 " Ah, mademoiselle, that would be the height 
 of felicity for me." 
 
 "Well, then, go and find Constance's cousin, 
 make him confess that what he told you about his 
 cousin were lying calumnies ; make him contradict 
 them in writing and bring the paper to me ; or 
 force him to fight with you and kill him to punish 
 him for his unworthy lies. You hear me, mon- 
 sieur! bring back Edmond's retraction; or, failing 
 that, come when you have vanquished him and I 
 will give you my hand." 
 
 "What, mademoiselle, you want " 
 
 " That you should challenge and fight Edmond ? 
 Yes, monsieur. If you do not do what I ask of
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 97 
 
 you it is useless for you to think of paying further 
 court to me I will never be your wife. Well, 
 monsieur, do you hesitate ? " 
 
 " No, mademoiselle ; no, I do not hesitate. I 
 will fight, most certainly, although I do not know 
 how to fight a duel. But what if I am killed, 
 mademoiselle? " 
 
 " Then Edmond would be still more despicable, 
 but you who will have died in upholding a noble 
 cause, you who will have sacrificed yourself for my 
 friend you will have all my regrets, you will 
 dwell in my memory, and every day I will go to 
 your grave and weep and put flowers on it." 
 
 "Ah, I understand ; you will be very fond of me 
 when I am dead ! Come, that is still a conso- 
 lation. It is decided, mademoiselle; tomorrow I 
 will fight with M. Edmond." 
 
 " But be careful, not a word of all this before 
 Constance." 
 
 " I will not open my mouth about it again, 
 mademoiselle." 
 
 At this moment Constance returned. Suspect- 
 ing that the matter concerned Edmond, she had 
 been unable to resist her curiosity, and she had lis- 
 tened to and heard all the conversation between 
 Pelagic and M. Ginguet. However, she looked 
 as if she knew nothing and all the rest of the even- 
 ing she pretended to feel very tranquil. Pelagic, on 
 the contrary, gave way from time to time to exclam- 
 ations of anger and impatience, and M. Ginguet 
 
 Vol. XX
 
 98 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 heaved great sighs, which indicated that he was not 
 highly pleased with what he was going to do upon 
 the following day. 
 
 As they parted, Constance shook hands with the 
 young clerk in friendly fashion ; the latter said 
 good-by, as though he were afraid of never seeing 
 them again, although Pelagic did her best, by 
 glances, to keep up his courage. 
 
 The next day, early in the morning, Ginguet got 
 ready to seek for Edmond at his home ; he talked 
 to himself as he did so and exhorted himself to be 
 brave; when he felt himself weakening, he thought 
 of Pelagic and then his love gave him courage, one 
 feeling is nearly always the auxiliary of the other. 
 
 At the moment when he was leaving his rooms, 
 holding in his hand a case of pistols which he had 
 borrowed from a neighbor, Ginguet was stopped 
 by his porter, who gave him a letter. The young 
 man opened it and read, 
 
 I overheard your conversation with Pelagic yesterday ; you 
 must not fight a duel for me, M. Ginguet ; Edmond has not 
 calumniated me, he has told you nothing but the truth. Good- 
 by ; tell Pelagic and her uncle that I shall always love them, 
 but I must leave them ; for when they know all, they will not 
 think me worthy to live with them. 
 
 CONSTANCE. 
 
 Ginguet, as he finished this letter, let his box of 
 pistols fall to the ground ; he read it again, to 
 assure himself that he was not mistaken, then he 
 hurried to carry back to his neighbor the weapons
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 99 
 
 he had borrowed, and ran to Pelagic, who was with 
 her uncle ; first of all, he asked them where Con- 
 stance was. 
 
 " She went out very early this morning," said 
 M. Pause, "no doubt to carry back her work to 
 the lingerie shop ; but she has not returned yet." 
 
 Then Ginguet gave Pelagic the letter he had 
 received. The latter wept disconsolately and told 
 her uncle all that had passed the evening before. 
 M. Pause blamed his niece's conduct in wishing to 
 force Ginguet to fight, but he could not yet be- 
 lieve that Constance was guilty. 
 
 " No, no ; she is not ! " cried Pelagic, " and the 
 letter in which she accuses herself only proves to 
 me that she feared a combat would take place, and 
 that her cousin might fall ; for she loves him still, 
 she has never ceased to desire his happiness, I am 
 quite sure of it. But where has she gone? M. Gin- 
 guet, you positively must find Constance ; I warn 
 you that you will not be my husband until you 
 have restored my unfortunate friend to me." 
 
 " But, mademoiselle, am I to blame that Con- 
 stance has left you ? " 
 
 "That has nothing to do with it, monsieur. 
 I can only be happy when she is near me, and as I 
 wish to be happy, in order to marry, the matter is 
 quite settled." 
 
 Poor Ginguet went out, saying, 
 
 " I shall have a good deal of trouble before I 
 become Mademoiselle Pelagie's husband."
 
 ioo EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 However, during the day he begun his search. 
 Every moment of time that his office duties left 
 free to him he employed in running about the vari- 
 ous neighborhoods to try and discover Constance, 
 but he learned nothing, and as he returned to 
 Pelagic, unable to give her any news of her dar- 
 ling, the young girl made a very wry face at him. 
 
 While this was going on, other events were tak- 
 ing place in the Bringuesingue family. 
 
 The father-in-law continually wanted his son-in- 
 law to accompany him into society ; but one day 
 Edmond had been the first to make fun of some 
 breach of manners by M. Bringuesingue. The 
 latter had committed several solecisms which would 
 have passed unobserved had not his son-in-law 
 called attention to them. A violent quarrel had 
 followed. 
 
 " I gave my daughter to you that you might 
 supply me with wit," said M. Bringuesingue. " I 
 sent Comtois away because of you, and he was at 
 least willing to rub his nose when I committed any 
 blunder ; but you take upon yourself to laugh 
 when- 1 get involved in a phrase ; things cannot go 
 on like this." 
 
 " You are never willing to sit down to the piano 
 when I wish to dance," said Madame Bringue- 
 singue,"or else you play so fast that it is impossi- 
 ble to go in time and one is tired at once. That's 
 not the way to behave with your mother-in-law." 
 
 " You never want to take me out walking," said
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 101 
 
 Clodora in her turn, "and you know I am very fond 
 of walking." 
 
 To all this Edmond had answered, 
 
 " My dear father-in-law, when you offered your 
 daughter to me in marriage you should have in- 
 formed me that I was to be your mentor also. But 
 it is too late to repair your education ; believe me 
 and do not seek to imitate great noblemen, you 
 will only succeed in making people laugh at you. 
 My dear mother-in-law, I do not blame you for 
 liking to dance, but I cannot pass my life in serv- 
 ing as your orchestra. As to you, madame, if 
 I don't take you walking more often it is because 
 you are continually yawning when I speak to you ; 
 from which I conclude that neither my company 
 nor my conversation is pleasing to you." 
 
 Edmond's answer did not calm their minds ; 
 and it grew worse when they were assailed on all 
 sides by men to whom Edmond owed money. 
 When they learned that he had dissipated nearly 
 all his wife's dowry, Clodora wept, her mother 
 fainted, and M. Bringuesingue wanted to put his 
 son-in-law in prison until he had restored the sum 
 which he had so lightly spent ; but as the father- 
 in-law could not do this, he contented himself with 
 ordering Edmond out of the house and telling 
 him never to come back to it so long as he was 
 poor, and to no longer consider Clodora as his 
 wife. 
 
 Edmond had the right to take his wife away
 
 102 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 with him, but he was not tempted to insist on it ; 
 he left Clodora with her parents, and departed from 
 the Bringuesingue family, having but one regret 
 that he was no longer a bachelor. 
 
 Edmond established himself in a little attic room, 
 and there set to work making pictures which were 
 of hardly more artistic value than chimney boards, 
 but he found a sale for them and lived by means 
 of them ; for, disgusted with pleasure, caring no 
 longer for society, and having no friends, Edmond 
 hardly left his room, and passed all his time in 
 working. He was astonished at the pleasure he 
 felt in this new kind of life ; he was quite surprised 
 that he should be happy while so assiduously busy. 
 
 " If I had not formerly refused M. Pause's 
 offers," he said, " I feel that I might have still 
 been happy beside Constance ; with work and 
 order and economy we need not have known pov- 
 erty. My self-conceit has been my undoing! I 
 refused the happiness that was near me and passed 
 my life in doing foolish things, because I always 
 thought I knew better than other people. I have 
 consumed the property my mother left me, I have 
 ruined my cousin, I have dissipated my wife's for- 
 tune, because I believed myself a poet, a musician, 
 a speculator, and with no vocation for any of those 
 things, inspired only by the same idea which, when 
 I was young, made me say to my comrades at 
 school : { Oh, if I like, I can do so-and-so as well 
 as you.' '
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 103 
 
 These reflections were rather tardy, but it is 
 always a merit to recognize one's faults. There 
 are so many people whom experience does not 
 teach. 
 
 Edmond had been painting his little pictures 
 for nearly a year when he received a letter from 
 M. Bringuesingue announcing that his daughter 
 Clodora had died from eating too much nougat; 
 but that before she died she had thought of her 
 husband, and had exacted a promise from her 
 parents that they would make Edmond their heir. 
 Monsieur and Madame Bringuesingue had sworn 
 to their daughter that they would gratify her desires 
 on condition that their son-in-law should ask noth- 
 ing of them as long as they lived. 
 
 Edmond answered M. Bringuesingue that he 
 was touched by the last remembrance of his wife, 
 and begged him to dispose of his fortune as he 
 pleased. Edmond was really becoming an artist ; 
 he no longer counted on riches as happiness ; he 
 had acquired a taste for work, what he did was 
 better, and he got more pay. After a time he did 
 really well, and there was a demand for his pictures ; 
 then he left his attic room and took a small apart- 
 ment in which he had a studio. 
 
 Edmond had only lived in his new lodging 
 - where he kept very much to himself for three 
 months when one evening an old woman came 
 and knocked at his door. She was a neighbor 
 who lived on the floor above Edmond, but the
 
 io 4 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 latter was totally unacquainted with the persons 
 who lived in the same house as himself. 
 
 The good woman was in tears ; she said to the 
 young man, 
 
 " Please, monsieur, be kind enough to come and 
 help me care for a young woman who is very ill, 
 she lives above here on the same landing as 
 myself. She lives alone, seldom goes out, works 
 all day ; she sees nobody but me, and she has 
 obliged me in a thousand ways ; but the day before 
 yesterday she fell ill, and to-day she is in a terrible 
 fever delirious. I don't know what to give her, 
 and I don't like to leave her alone while I go for 
 the doctor." 
 
 Edmond immediately followed the old neighbor; 
 she led him to the invalid's room, where every- 
 thing was very simple and modest, but neat and 
 well-arranged. The young man, without under- 
 standing the reason, felt greatly moved as he 
 approached the young woman's bed ; but was 
 completely overwhelmed when he saw that the 
 sick woman he had come to aid was his cousin. 
 
 " Constance ! " cried Edmond. 
 
 " You know this young lady," said the neighbor. 
 
 " Know her ? she is my cousin ; used to be my 
 companion, and was for a long time my best friend. 
 Constance ! poor Constance ! but she doesn't hear 
 me or recognize me. Madame, go and get a doc- 
 tor quickly. 1 shall establish myself here, for I 
 shan't leave my cousin till she is out of danger."
 
 
 om go< 
 
 u K 
 
 He knelt beside Constance's bed. 
 PHOTOGRAVURE FROM ORIGINAL DRAWING BY WILLIAM GLACKENS.
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 105 
 
 The old woman left ; he remained alone beside 
 Constance, who was violently delirious, and who 
 often pronounced Edmond's name. The latter 
 listened attentively to the invalid's ravings and 
 presently he distinguished these words, 
 
 "He thought me guilty Great God! he 
 thought I loved another than he. Why it was 
 that he might be free. That letter that note. 
 It was I who dictated it. I have a copy of it there 
 in the memorandum book he gave me. It is all 
 that I received from him, and I wrote it there ; I 
 did it so he would be happy." 
 
 So saying the invalid pointed with her finger to a 
 little box that was on the commode. Edmond, 
 who for the first time had the thought that his 
 cousin had said she was guilty that she might re- 
 store his liberty, felt the tears moisten his eyes at 
 the idea of such devotion; he ran to the box, 
 opened it, found there a memorandum book he 
 had formerly given his cousin, and in one of the 
 pockets the draft of a letter in his cousin's hand- 
 writing. He read it. It was the original of the 
 letter he had received in which the writer offered 
 to prove to him that Constance did not love him. 
 
 Edmond understood all his cousin's generosity, 
 and that she, after giving him her fortune, had 
 sacrificed to him also that which is the first with a 
 woman her honor and her reputation. He 
 knelt beside Constance's bed ; he took her hand 
 and bathed it with tears, asking her to pardon him
 
 io6 EDMOND AND HIS COUSIN 
 
 for having thought her guilty, and cursing himself 
 for having brought misfortune upon a woman who 
 had so well deserved all his love. But Constance 
 did not hear; her delirium was unabated, and her 
 state increased Edmond's regrets and despair. 
 
 The old neighbor brought a doctor, who declared 
 that he could not answer for the invalid's recovery 
 and departed after writing his prescriptions. 
 
 Constance passed a cruel night ; Edmond did 
 not close an eye, but the neighbor could not resist 
 her weariness, she slept soundly. 
 
 But a remembrance struck him, and, as soon as 
 it was daylight and the neighbor had awakened, 
 Edmond went out and ran without stopping to 
 M. Pause's ; there he told all that had happened, 
 all that he knew of his cousin's beautiful devotion, 
 and he had not finished his story when Pelagic, 
 who had listened attentively, hastened to put on 
 her bonnet and shawl, and said to him, 
 
 " Take me to her. Ah, I knew her better than 
 you and I did not for a moment believe her guilty." 
 
 Nine days later Constance, who was still deliri- 
 ous, struggling incessantly between life and death, 
 experienced a salutary crisis. Deep slumber had 
 supervened, and this had been followed by a light 
 sleep, restful and restorative ; and when Constance 
 again opened her eyes she smiled as one who has 
 already forgotten her sufferings. But imagine her 
 surprise at seeing Pelagic, good M. Pause, her 
 cousin, and even M. Ginguet grouped around her.
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 107 
 
 "Is it a dream ? " said Constance shutting her 
 eyes for fear of seeing an illusion melt away. 
 
 " No," Edmond answered pressing her hand 
 softly ; " the past alone is a dream, but you will 
 forget it, cousin ; you have already been so gener- 
 ous to me that I am sure you will continue so still. 
 I know your devotion, and Heaven has rendered 
 me free to entirely repair the wrong I have done. 
 Once more, Constance, the past is but a dream, 
 and it is your affianced husband who is beside you 
 now, as on the day when our two mothers united 
 our hands and our future." 
 
 Constance could not answer, she was shedding 
 tears of happiness, and although the doctors for- 
 bid anything of an emotional nature for convales- 
 cents, in this case it hastened the invalid's cure. 
 
 Then Edmond married his cousin, then M.Gin- 
 guet looked at Pelagie, sighing, and said to her, 
 
 " It is not my fault if some one else found your 
 friend ; I walked two or three leagues in Paris 
 every day to look for her." 
 
 Pelagie's only answer was to place her hand in 
 Ginguet's ; and in truth the poor bachelor had well 
 earned it. I do not affirm that Pelagie always fol- 
 lowed her husband's wishes ; but I can certify that 
 M. Ginguet never had any will but that of his wife.
 
 PETIT-TRICK THE BRETON 
 
 PETIT-TRICK was a true child of Brittany, that 
 is to say, he was hot-headed, possessed a lively 
 determination ancl a quick wit, and his speech was 
 sometimes rather blunt; he was courageous and 
 faithful withal, for that country has produced more 
 men of noble qualities than I could cite here. 
 
 And, in speaking of fidelity, we do not intend 
 here to speak of love and of those delightful vows 
 that are made between two lovers, but rather of 
 that admirable devotion which consists in a man's 
 cleaving to his friends in misfortune, his masters 
 in exile, his princes in adversity. 
 
 But every medal has its reverse side, as you very 
 well know ; besides, there is nothing perfect in 
 nature. So there is nothing strange in the fact that 
 Petit-Trick also had his weak side, since we all 
 have ours ; it is certain even that there are some 
 people who have no good side. 
 
 The weak point in Trick was vanity ; he had 
 immense confidence in himself and was assured 
 that no one could deceive him. 
 
 Poor fellow ! what an error ! what an insane delu- 
 sion ! Men of the greatest minds, geniuses even, 
 have been abused and duped ere now. 
 
 MB
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 109 
 
 It is the fate of poor humankind to be deceived ; 
 and some people go so far as to say that we should 
 be very unhappy if we were not. 
 
 But as Petit-Trick was only fifteen years old, 
 and was a Breton, we must therefore excuse the 
 great confidence he possessed as to his own saga- 
 city. We see in the world every day people whom 
 age and experience have not rendered so rational ; 
 if youth were possessed of wisdom at the start how 
 much of it would remain in old age ? 
 
 Petit-Trick was desirous of going to Paris to try 
 to make his fortune. This was a very natural wish, 
 which almost invariably arises in the minds of those 
 persons who have not been favored by fate ; and a 
 great many rich people conduct themselves in this 
 respect precisely like their poorer fellows. 
 
 Jean- Jacques said, "It is essential to be happy, 
 dear Emile ; that is the first need of man." 
 
 But in our day they vary this phrase of Rous- 
 seau's, and they say, " It is essential to be rich." 
 For they think that without money there is no 
 means of being happy. 
 
 Let us return to Petit-Trick. His parents had 
 been in business, but they had not amassed money ; 
 what is more, they had often been the dupes of 
 schemers and rascals. The youth said to him- 
 self, 
 
 " I shall be shrewder than they, or luckier ; I 
 shan't allow myself to be deceived by anybody, and 
 I shall make my way rapidly in Paris."
 
 no PETIT-TRICK THE BRETON 
 
 An old uncle, the only relation who remained 
 to Trick, consented to send him to the capital of 
 France and managed to obtain a situation for him 
 as shop boy in a kind of bric-a-brac shop. 
 
 They gave the young man his lodging and 
 board, which was very frugal, and twenty sous a 
 week, not inclusive of the profits ; that is to say, 
 the small sums he received for beer money from 
 the customers to whom he carried goods. The 
 situation was a modest one, but Petit-Trick thought 
 it magnificent. He thanked his uncle, packed his 
 effects in a carpet bag and climbed on to the roof 
 of a coach where a seat had been kept for him. 
 
 Trick's lively, roguish, open countenance seemed 
 to make a very agreeable impression on a traveller 
 who was seated beside him. This traveller was 
 not at all like the young Breton, his shifty face, 
 his small, evil eyes did not indicate stupidity, but 
 they did not inspire confidence ; in fact, the smile 
 on his thin lips was sarcastic and perfidious. Believe 
 me, you should mistrust thin lips but don't place 
 great confidence in any others. 
 
 Petit-Trick, nevertheless, told all his business 
 to his companion on the coach, and the latter an- 
 swered this recital by giving what seemed to be 
 very sincere advice. 
 
 " Young man," said he, "you are going to Paris, 
 be on your guard. In great capitals there are al- 
 ways a good many thieves, and Paris does not lack 
 them. In an immense city, where so many people
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK in 
 
 wake up without knowing how they are going to 
 get food for the day, you can comprehend that 
 many robberies, swindles, and pickpocketings are 
 committed. The capitals most renowned for their 
 beauty and the privileges and pleasures which they 
 afford have the gloomy privilege also of attracting 
 within their precincts the most skilful swindlers ; 
 wherever there is a crowd you may be sure there 
 are thieves ; it is a sad truth, but it is a truth. 
 
 " Be on your guard against all the tricks they may 
 try to play on you. I am not speaking of robberies 
 with weapons or by means of ladders or breaking 
 in, those are among the category of vulgar crimes 
 and are common all over the country, but there 
 are robberies in Paris against which it is necessary 
 to be furnished with prudence." 
 
 Petit-Trick listened smilingly to his companion, 
 exclaiming from time to time, 
 
 " Oh, monsieur, there is no danger. I shall not 
 let myself be caught. I bet I should recognize 
 a thief a mile away." 
 
 "Ah, so you think, my young friend; that is 
 a confidence that may be fatal to you. But let us 
 see, since you are so certain of being on your guard 
 against thieves, do you know what a <vol au bon- 
 jour''is? an American confidence thief? Do you 
 know what a f vol au pot ' is ? " 
 
 Little Trick opened his eyes wide, then he shook 
 his head, exclaiming, 
 
 *A lodging-house thief.
 
 ii2 PETIT-TRICK THE BRETON 
 
 " Bah, that's foolish talk, that is, the kind of 
 thing they tell children to frighten them." 
 
 " I have no desire to frighten you, my young 
 friend, I only wish to enlighten your inexperience. 
 Listen to me; among the thieves that frequent 
 Paris the first to be mentioned is the one called 
 c au bonjour.' I will explain to you what that 
 means, for it may serve you on occasion. In the 
 morning in Paris in a house where there are often 
 a great number of tenants, the porter chats with a 
 maid or a neighbor or he goes across the street to 
 get his milk from the milkwoman, or he sweeps the 
 back of his courtyard or feeds his magpie (in Paris 
 porters nearly always keep a magpie or a paro- 
 quet, or a dog, or three cats) ; in short, they are so 
 very busy in the mornings that they do not pay 
 much attention to the people who come into the 
 house. 
 
 " A 'worker ' goes into the house and very lightly 
 ascends the stairs, looking at all the doors, and it 
 is rarely that he does not see one with the key left 
 in it; for some bachelor who has been up late says 
 to his porter, ' Here's my key, give it to-morrow to 
 my charwoman; I don't want to get up to let her 
 in to her work.' In the morning the charwoman 
 goes up, but when she goes down to get the coffee 
 and rolls and milk she invariably leaves the key in 
 the lock, very often the maids do the same, or it is 
 the porter who takes up the newspaper and forgets 
 the key in the door, or more often still it is the
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 113 
 
 tenant himself who says, ' Leave my key on the 
 outside, so that I may not have to disturb myself 
 if any one comes to see me.' ' 
 
 Petit-Trick shouted with laughter as he said, 
 " Oh, I shan't be as stupid as all that, I shan't." 
 " You think so ! At length the ' worker ' sees a 
 key ; he opens the door very gently and goes into 
 the room. A gentleman is lying on his bed, snor- 
 ing in perfect security. Perhaps he is dreaming of 
 a gold mine or that he has inherited a relative's 
 millions, or he has become a sub-prefect or some 
 one has sent him a box of jams from Bar. 
 
 " While he is enjoying such sweet dreams the 
 ' worker' lightly picks up a watch and seizes some 
 money that is in a desk and departs, taking every 
 possible precaution not to awaken the sleeper, 
 boldly leaves the house, and passes the porter's 
 lodge humming one of Rossini's arias." 
 
 " Well, I shan't let myself be robbed like that," 
 said Trick, " I'm sure I'm too wide awake for that ; 
 I sleep so lightly that I can hear the scampering 
 of a mouse." 
 
 " Really ? my dear fellow ; I must congratulate 
 you on the possession of such a faculty as that. 
 But suppose after going in at a door the thief 
 should come in contact with some one who is very 
 wide awake, do you think he is taken? not at all. 
 * Who's there ? ' asks the person who has heard 
 his door open, or who sees some one unknown to 
 him come in. The thief pretends to be surprised 
 
 Vol. XX
 
 n 4 PETIT-TRICK THE BRETON 
 
 and says, c Pardon me, but I want M.Schicoff, den- 
 tist.' ' Don't know him. There isn't a dentist in the 
 house.' f Oh, a thousand pardons, monsieur ; I must 
 have mistaken the number. Sorry to have dis- 
 turbed you.' And the robber disappears like light- 
 ning, while the tenant of the apartment racks his 
 memory as to whether he has dentists for neighbors 
 and says, * Schicoff that's a Russian name, it seems 
 that Russia furnishes us with dentists also.' ' 
 
 " Monsieur," said Trick after listening to his 
 companion, " I should see at once by a person's 
 face whether or no he was a thief; then I should 
 jump on him and I should stop him. Oh, I'm 
 not a coward, I ain't." 
 
 " Devil take it ! " said the traveller fixing his 
 little evil eyes on the youth, "do you suppose you 
 could recognize a thief by merely looking at him?" 
 
 "Yes, monsieur." 
 
 "Hang it, what a fine fellow you are! Come, 
 I'm very pleased to know one who is so sharp as 
 you are. All the same, I've never taught you what 
 f robbery au bonjour' is, and I should like to tell 
 you what * robbery a 1'Americaine' is, for it's very 
 prevalent in Paris now, the surprising thing being 
 that they can find dupes there." 
 
 " Oh, it's not worth while troubling yourself, 
 monsieur." 
 
 " Do you know what it is then ? " 
 
 " No, monsieur." 
 
 " Then let me tell you. The thief walks quietly
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 115 
 
 about Paris like a simple idler ; he watches a man 
 carrying a bag of money, for which purpose he 
 stations himself in the vicinity of the treasury or 
 the bank ; in these neighborhoods men carrying 
 money are as common as the omnibuses. The 
 thief sees one, he accosts him, pretending to be a 
 foreigner and to be in need of changing some gold 
 into silver. A confederate passes who pretends to 
 want to seize the occasion to do some good busi- 
 ness ; for his part the man who carries the bag of 
 money does not wish to let this piece of luck escape 
 him. They go into a wine shop. The pretended 
 foreigner, who speaks ajargon of several languages, 
 counts out his gold against the silver; the confeder- 
 ate pretends to go out and look for some more crown 
 pieces and does not come back. The foreigner as- 
 serts that he has carried off a piece of gold and 
 rushes after him. The gentlemen do not come 
 back. The man with the bag pays for what they 
 have had and goes to a money-changer to sell his 
 gold. Arrived there, he perceives that they have 
 robbed him of his rolls of good coin, and that noth- 
 ing remains in his bag but lead pipe or sous." 
 
 "Good heavens, monsieur, all these people allow 
 themselves to be caught too easily ; they have no 
 business to be such simpletons." 
 
 " Do you wish me to tell you of other kinds of 
 robbery that are rife in Paris ? " 
 
 " It is needless, monsieur, you have told me 
 quite enough. Besides, I have an idea that the
 
 n6 PETIT-TRICK THE BRETON 
 
 thieves would not have the slightest desire to brush 
 against me." 
 
 " As you like, my dear young friend." 
 
 This exceedingly officious gentleman said no 
 more ; he turned away, and during the rest of the 
 journey slept, or pretended to sleep. As to Trick, 
 he slept perfectly well without a pillow, which it 
 is mightily convenient to be able to do when one 
 lacks that article. 
 
 They reached Paris. Trick's companion alighted 
 before they reached the barrier, after again bidding 
 Petit-Trick to remember his advice. 
 
 The young Breton had hardly reached the great 
 city when he looked at the address of the dealer 
 in novelties, and read, 
 
 " M. Fripard, Rue aux Ours." 
 
 Trick got some one to point out the Rue aux 
 Ours ; then, with his carpet bag on his back, he 
 hurried to M. Fripard's. The bric-a-brac dealer 
 was a little, shabby, yellow old man, who had worn 
 the same frock coat for sixteen years, a fact which 
 demonstrates his economical turn of mind. He 
 received the young Breton rather harshly. 
 
 "You are going to be my clerk," said he, "but 
 take care ! if you lose anything, if you allow any- 
 one to steal anything from you, remember, I shall 
 take it out of your pay." 
 
 "That is understood," answered Trick; and to 
 himself he added, "That won't prevent my saving 
 money."
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 117 
 
 " You will begin immediately to become ac- 
 quainted with the business. You will keep my 
 books ; they tell me you write well ? " 
 
 " Yes, monsieur." 
 
 " You must write very close so as to use less 
 paper. Can you write with steel pens ? " 
 
 " Yes, monsieur." 
 
 " Very well, I will supply you with some. But 
 you are not going to work in that good coat ? " 
 
 "Oh, no, monsieur, I have a jacket and a blouse, 
 too ; I have everything that is necessary, I am well 
 fitted out." 
 
 " Then get your blouse immediately. Don't 
 take it off except on Sundays; and even on those 
 days, if you take my advice, you'll content your- 
 self with turning it." 
 
 Petit-Trick, saying to himself that his patron 
 pushed his economy to extremes, set to work to 
 open his bag, which on coming in he had placed 
 in a corner of the shop. 
 
 Suddenly an exclamation of amazement escaped 
 the young Breton ; old Fripard was alarmed, and 
 turning towards him, said anxiously, 
 
 " Have you already broken something ? " 
 
 " No, monsieur, it's not that ; but see here, my 
 carpet bag is empty, and I had in it eight shirts, 
 twelve handkerchiefs, three waistcoats, two pairs 
 of trousers, two jackets, and a blouse." 1 
 
 The old shopkeeper looked in the bag, which 
 contained nothing but sawdust.
 
 n8 PETIT-TRICK THE BRETON 
 
 "Your uncle wished to give you a lesson in econ- 
 omy, I suppose," said M. Fripard, "he thinks what 
 you stand up in enough for you. 
 
 "No, monsieur, no; I did my own packing, and 
 I'm sure I had all I have told you. And now there 
 is nothing but sawdust ah, here is a paper with 
 something written on it." 
 
 Trick opened the paper and read, 
 
 I have told you to be on your guard against robbers, you didn't 
 care to believe me, but the good advice I gave you is worth 
 a great deal more than the contents of your bag. 
 
 " Why, the rascally thief! " cried Trick, " my 
 companion during the journey has robbed me." 
 
 Old Fripard made a grimace, saying, 
 
 " My good fellow, this does not prove you to 
 be very sharp, and I should perhaps do better not 
 to take you into my employ ; for I fear you will 
 allow me to be robbed also." 
 
 Trick promised the old man to be constantly 
 on his guard and to place confidence in no one, 
 and Fripard consented to keep him, saying, 
 
 " Fortunately for you, your coat is nearly new, 
 and you can wear it for ten years as it is without 
 having it turned." 
 
 " Yes, but I hope to grow within the next ten 
 years, and my coat will not grow," said Trick, 
 sighing. 
 
 By great good fortune the young Breton had 
 not put his money in his carpet bag ; with what
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 119 
 
 little he had he bought some new linen, and he 
 had soon forgotten this first misadventure. 
 
 Petit-Trick passed eight months at the old nov- 
 elty dealer's, and as during all that time he had 
 not allowed himself to be once caught napping 
 his confidence in himself had returned, and with it 
 the vanity and bragging which were his chief faults. 
 
 The young apprentice was still earning only four 
 francs a month, which was very little ; but his mas- 
 ter obliged him to be economical and did not allow 
 him the slightest distraction or pleasure. 
 
 One fine morning a very well-dressed gentle- 
 man went into the novelty dealer's shop, having 
 seen in the window a handsome umbrella, almost 
 new. This individual examined the umbrella and 
 inquired the price of it. 
 
 "Thirty-six francs," answered M. Fripard, "and 
 from that I will abate nothing. This umbrella is 
 covered with magnificent taffeta, the wood is choice; 
 the tortoiseshell knob is encrusted with gold. 
 Thirty-six francs is a mere nothing for it." 
 
 " Let some one carry it for me ; follow me, for 
 I am going home." 
 
 As the gentleman had a cane it was natural that 
 he should not wish to load himself with an um- 
 brella also ; besides, one may be a very honest man 
 and not have thirty-six francs in his pockets to 
 pay for a purchase made " ex abrupto." 
 
 Old Fripard gave the fine umbrella to Petit- 
 Trick, but he whispered to him,
 
 120 PETIT-TRICK THE BRETON 
 
 " Above all, do not leave this object without 
 having received its equivalent." 
 
 Trick nodded his head affirmatively ; he put the 
 umbrella under his arm and followed the gentle- 
 man, saying, 
 
 "You may be quite easy, master; I'm not one 
 to be caught; I let them give me sawdust once, 
 it is true, but if I had held my bag during the 
 whole journey that would not have happened." 
 
 The fine gentleman walked for some distance; 
 at length he stopped at a house, of which the car- 
 riage gate was open, he fumbled in his pockets and 
 exclaimed, 
 
 " Devil take it! I've left my snuffbox in your 
 shop. I must have done so. I remember very 
 well now that I took a pinch of snuff; I must have 
 left it on a counter. I set great store by that snuff- 
 box, it has a little thing of Teniers' stuck on the 
 top which comes to me from an aunt who stood 
 to me in the place of a mother. Young man, give 
 me that umbrella and kindly go back in search of 
 my snuffbox." 
 
 Trick became red up to the ears, and he held 
 the umbrella still more tightly under his arm ; for 
 he remembered the orders he had received from 
 his employer. 
 
 The dandy resumed very graciously, 
 
 " I have guessed the cause of your embarrass- 
 ment, young man, you are afraid to leave the um- 
 brella with me without being paid for it. I do not
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 121 
 
 wonder at your caution, Paris has so many thieves 
 that people have to be upon their guard, especially 
 when they are in business. Wait, my young friend, 
 here are two twenty-franc pieces, that is rather 
 more than I owe you, but remember my snuffbox 
 and the four francs which remain will be for your- 
 self. This is where I live, you will ask for 
 M. Breloque ; go quickly and I shall be greatly 
 obliged." 
 
 Petit-Trick gave him the umbrella at once. He 
 took the two pieces the man gave him and set 
 off running, delighted at earning in one day what 
 he ordinarily earned in a month, and making up 
 his mind to enjoy himself greatly on the following 
 Sunday with his four francs. 
 
 He arrived at the shop in joyous mood and 
 immediately began to rummage about the shop. 
 
 " Where is that gentleman's snuffbox ? he left 
 it here he is sure of it. You must have found 
 his snuffbox, there's a little picture by Teniers 
 on it." 
 
 "I've found nothing," cried old Fripard ; "but 
 you idiot, what have you done with the umbrella ? 
 Have you in spite of my orders delivered an article 
 worth thirty-six francs without being paid for it. 
 Well, if you have I shall send you away." 
 
 " Don't you be afraid, master, I ain't such a 
 simpleton as that, I ain't. Wait, here are forty 
 francs in two gold pieces that monsieur gave me 
 to pay you, and the change is to be for me if
 
 122 PETIT-TRICK THE BRETON 
 
 I find the snuffbox ; hang it, I should very much 
 like to find it." And Trick set vigorously to work 
 to look for it. 
 
 But the shopkeeper had taken the two pieces 
 of gold which had been given him in payment, 
 their weight seemed to him suspicious. He ex- 
 amined them closely, rubbed them with his finger, 
 uttered an exclamation of anger and kicked his 
 young clerk, who was still looking for the snuffbox 
 under the counters. 
 
 " There, you little rascal ! " cried old Fripard, 
 " take that for your drink money ; these are two 
 twenty-sous pieces that have been gilded, and badly 
 gilded at that. I have been robbed." 
 
 Trick was stunned for a moment, but soon left 
 the shop running; he remembered in what street, 
 at what house he had left the fine gentleman ; he 
 reached it, recognized the gateway, went in, and 
 asked the porter for " M. Breloque." The porter 
 answered, 
 
 "There has never been a Breloque in this house." 
 
 Trick gave a description of the gentleman and 
 the umbrella, but the porter did not seem to know 
 what he was talking about. 
 
 The poor fellow returned weeping to Fripard, 
 who said to him, 
 
 " You have thirty-six francs to remit to me for 
 the object sold ; you have given me two, and 
 thirty-four remain to be paid. You have already 
 earned thirty-two francs here ; you will pay me
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 123 
 
 those and go. I shall lose forty sous by that, but 
 I would much rather do so than have you remain 
 longer." 
 
 Trick gave up his savings, and left the bric-a- 
 brac dealer's, asking himself what he was to do. 
 
 Petit-Trick remembered then, that in running 
 his errands he had made acquaintance with a young 
 man employed in a novelty shop, who had given 
 him his address ; he hurried off to find him, that 
 he might confide his troubles to him. 
 
 The young novelty clerk presented Petit-Trick: 
 to his employer and informed the latter of the 
 predicament in which the poor lad stood, and the 
 merchant consented to take Trick as an extra clerk. 
 
 So here was the young Breton placed in a big 
 novelty shop, where he was not likely to regret 
 the bric-a-brac shop. He conducted himself so 
 zealously, showed so much aptitude for work, that 
 at the end of six weeks his employer allotted him 
 a salary of twelve francs a month. 
 
 Twelve francs a month ! it was three times as 
 much as he had earned at old Fripard's ; Trick 
 never doubted but that he was on his way to 
 fortune. 
 
 He had been in the novelty shop for six months, 
 and there is no need to say that his confidence in 
 himself was restored and that he often exclaimed, 
 
 " I would not advise any one to try to take me 
 in now." 
 
 However, Trick's duty was to do the errands
 
 i2 4 PETIT-TRICK THE BRETON 
 
 and carry home to the customers the goods they 
 had chosen. 
 
 One day he left his shop holding under his arm 
 two pretty French cashmere shawls, carefully 
 wrapped and tied with twine. 
 
 A well-dressed individual, who for some time 
 past had been following the young clerk, soon 
 accosted him, he spoke a jargon of German and 
 French, and it often happened that he spoke both 
 languages at once. He bowed to Trick, saying, 
 
 " My goot monsir, pardon, forgif me for speak- 
 ing to von I do not know, but I am a foreigner, 
 and I haf not any acquaintances here." 
 
 The young clerk began to laugh, and said, 
 
 " Hang it, any one could understand that you 
 are a foreigner, you speak French like a chimney- 
 sweep." 
 
 " Yes, yes, like a shimney Forgif me, leedle 
 monsir, you haf a pretty face which inspires mooch 
 gonfidence, and if you vill oblige me mit some in- 
 formation, I vill gif you fife francs for yourself." 
 
 As he finished these words, the foreigner drew 
 from his pocket a handful of hundred-sous pieces 
 and of napoleons, and the young clerk, who had 
 now become accustomed to handling gold and sil- 
 ver, ascertained that the pieces were not false. 
 
 Dazzled by the sight of so many coins, and ask- 
 ing nothing better than to earn five francs if he 
 could do so in a manner that was not reprehen- 
 sible, Trick exclaimed,
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 125 
 
 " What service do you ask of me, foreigner ? 
 speak ; and if possible I am ready to oblige you." 
 
 "That is quite possible, leedle monsir. I, a 
 foreigner, came to Paris to amuse myself, look you, 
 and I am still bored, mein herr ! I should like for 
 you to show me the way to one of the little the- 
 atres where they play farces which will give one 
 a good laugh. Do you oonterstandt ? " 
 
 " Yes, I understand ; it is easy enough ; there 
 are plenty of theatres in Paris where one can amuse 
 one's self. For instance, the Cirque, Seraphin, 
 urtius, or even the Delassements-comiques 
 those gentlemen in the shop tell me that they give 
 little vaudevilles even at 1'Opera." 
 
 "Very well, sapremann ! I should like to go 
 to that theatre; will you show me the way there? " 
 
 " With pleasure ; come along." 
 
 Petit-Trick walked off and the foreigner followed 
 him. Suddenly, the latter said to the young man, 
 
 " See here ! I have a big sum of money about 
 me in gold, which I should like to hide, so I 
 do not take id to the theatre mit me for fear of 
 robbers ; show me the way, if you please, to the 
 canal banks, to a part where few people bass. Do 
 you oonterstandt why ? " 
 
 " That's easy enough," said Trick, " the canal 
 is right behind the small theatres." 
 
 They reached the water's edge in a spot where, 
 as yet, no houses had been built. The foreigner 
 stopped before a heap of stones, saying,
 
 126 PETIT-TRICK THE BRETON 
 
 " I should like to hide my treasure here, help 
 me, leedle monsir." 
 
 Trick yielded to the stranger's fancy ; he helped 
 to hide a good round sum under the stones, while 
 no one was passing by the water. The treasure 
 hidden, they set off walking again. 
 
 They drew near to the boulevards, and the little 
 clerk was about to show his companion the theatre 
 he wished to go to, when the latter stopped again, 
 saying, 
 
 " Allow me to be excused. Tevil take id ! I am 
 uneasy. I am afraidt some von vill steal my 
 money." 
 
 " Hang it ! I told you you were doing a foolish 
 thing." 
 
 " I must really ged id again. Leedle monsir, you 
 know where id vas hid, oblige me by going to get 
 id, and bring it back to me, then I vill pay you the 
 price agreed on mit us both." 
 
 " Just as you like," said Trick, preparing to run, 
 but the stranger stopped him, saying, 
 
 " One minud, you are going to ged my gold, 
 bud berhaps you don'd come back. Pardon, bud 
 I don'd know you, and they told me that in Paris 
 they trick so many foreigners." 
 
 " That's true," said Trick laughing, "they took 
 me in even." 
 
 " Leedle monsir, leave mit me the backet you 
 haf oonder your arm as a security to me." 
 
 Trick reflected : the two shawls he was carrying
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 127 
 
 were worth eight hundred francs. The stranger 
 had hidden about a million francs in gold, he gave 
 him the packet, exclaiming, 
 
 " That is right ; keep that, and wait here for 
 me. I shan't be long." 
 
 Petit-Trick set off running. He reached the 
 canal banks and recognized the place where he had 
 helped to hide the treasure ; he pulled away the 
 stones and rooted among them there was noth- 
 ing there. A confederate had already regained the 
 money, and " leedle monsir," after removing all 
 the neighboring stones, ran to the place where he 
 had left the queer-speaking man and of course 
 failed to find him. 
 
 The poor fellow went back weeping to his shop, 
 where his shopmates told him he had been the 
 victim of robbery "au pot" and his employer dis- 
 charged him. 
 
 Petit-Trick returned then to his old uncle, say- 
 ing to himself, 
 
 " I have had enough of Paris ! What an ugly 
 town it is ; what lots of mud, dirt, people, car- 
 riages, omnibuses, shops, ragamuffins, loafers, idlers 
 and thieves. I shall go back to my old uncle, and 
 my beautiful, good Brittany. There, at least, one 
 knows with whom one is dealing ; one is not al- 
 ways making blunders, and with a little wit one 
 isn't obliged to be constantly on his guard, which 
 is very tiring even for the cleverest people." 
 
 You see, young Trick, in spite of all that had
 
 128 PETIT-TRICK THE BRETON 
 
 happened to him, was hardly cured as yet of the 
 good opinion he held of himself; in his anger he 
 laid it all to the big city, and blamed it for all the 
 faults he had himself committed. But this is our 
 usual custom ; we mortals will never confess our- 
 selves in the wrong, at least, unless we have a great 
 deal of both mind and merit ; in the latter case we 
 frankly confess our errors, because we do not fear 
 that that will make us pass for fools. 
 
 When Petit-Trick had returned to his beloved 
 Brittany he did not relate to his old uncle how 
 things had gone with him in Paris ; he presented 
 himself as a victim of events and circumstances. 
 The old uncle believed, or pretended to believe 
 him, which comes almost to the same thing. Then, 
 eighteen months after his nephew's return, the old 
 man died, naming Trick as his sole heir. But it 
 came about that the old uncle, who had always 
 lived very modestly, and who for that reason had 
 been thought poorer than he was, left Petit-Trick 
 a good round fortune, enough to enable him to 
 live very comfortably, in good bank notes and in 
 gold pieces which he had hidden in the bottom of 
 a chest. 
 
 The pieces of gold, to tell the truth, bore divers 
 effigies ; there were louis with the portrait of the 
 unfortunate Louis XVI, then there were twenty- 
 franc pieces issued under the Republic, then napo- 
 leons, and pieces coined in the reigns of Charles X 
 and Louis XVIII, etc., etc.
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 129 
 
 Of all these pieces of gold the ones which Petit- 
 Trick seemed fondest of were the ones which bore 
 the portrait of Louis XVI, whether because, as a 
 Breton, he bore an attachment to that dynasty, or 
 whether it was because that piece was worth twenty- 
 four francs while the others were worth only twenty, 
 we have never rightly known there are so many 
 things in this world that we never rightly know. 
 
 Here was Trick, then, at the age of eighteen 
 years, free of all control, and the possessor of a 
 very pretty fortune. 
 
 It was more necessary than ever that he should 
 not allow himself to be trapped, and that he might 
 not be so, what do you imagine Trick thought of 
 doing ? I will give you a hundred guesses, I will 
 give you a thousand. 
 
 But as I see that you will never guess, I prefer 
 to tell you outright he thought of taking a wife ; 
 here was an idea for him to have. Certainly woman 
 is the prettiest, most seductive, most provoking 
 creature that one can meet on the face of the earth ; 
 I, at least, have never found anything more desira- 
 ble, and I think men generally will be of my opin- 
 ion ; but it is precisely because woman possesses 
 so many attractions, so many charms, that it is 
 folly to think of marrying, putting one's self in 
 chains, at eighteen ; above all is this the case when 
 one has never known love. Marriage demands 
 experience a great deal of experience on the 
 part of the husband, be it understood. 
 
 Vol. XX
 
 ijo PETIT-TRICK THE BRETON 
 
 " And why on the part of the husband only ? " 
 the ladies perhaps will exclaim. 
 
 " Ah, mesdames, because if you also had expe- 
 rience, you probably would none of us." 
 
 Trick said to himself, 
 
 " I am going to choose a little woman who will 
 be able to render me happy. I know what is 
 necessary, I cannot deceive myself there. 
 
 " I am cheerful, so I ought to take a wife who 
 is jolly ; I have wit, and I shan't make such a mis- 
 take as to marry a stupid woman ; I am shrewd, 
 and my wife must be full of mischief; I am fond 
 of good eating, and I want a wife who has a good 
 appetite ; I love music, and I want a wife who can 
 accompany my singing and has a correct ear ; in 
 fact, I am well-built and have a nice enough face 
 and it is indispensable that my better-half should be 
 pretty and well-made, so that our children will be 
 little cupids." 
 
 You see Petit-Trick had a predeliction for ho- 
 moeopathy. There are people who think that in 
 marriage contrasts are better than resemblances. 
 
 Certain it is, for instance, that if two stubborn 
 people marry they will pass their days in disputing 
 without ever wishing to yield. Two talkative peo- 
 ple will have almost as much trouble in agreeing 
 together. Two married people of choleric dispo- 
 sition will break everything around them ; two 
 greedy people will dispute over the same morsel. 
 
 But if vivacity is allied to indifference, wit to
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 131 
 
 stupidity, avarice to prodigality, cheerfulness to 
 sadness, incompatibility of temper will be the inevi- 
 table result of such a union. It is a very trouble- 
 some question, so we will return to Trick who, 
 like all people who have great confidence in them- 
 selves, was never at a loss. 
 
 At eighteen years of age, M. Trick flattered 
 himself that he knew women. What fatuity ! there 
 are many men who have lived and died without 
 being able to comprehend them. Philosophers, 
 sages, savants, men of wit, and men who were suc- 
 cessful with the fair sex, have said or written a 
 great many things about women ; and the greater 
 part of their opinions differ so widely the one from 
 the other that, after consulting, reading, and pon- 
 dering them, one is as far off as ever. 
 
 But young Trick had more confidence in him- 
 self than in all the rest of the world put together ; 
 and although he had consulted neither Cato, nor 
 Origen, nor Tertullian, nor Saint Bernard, nor Ca- 
 tullus, nor Juvenal, nor Virgil, nor Confucius, nor 
 Tibullus, nor Voltaire, nor La Fontaine, nor Boi- 
 leau he was certain of making a good choice. 
 
 But, in the neighborhood where he lived, Trick 
 had cast his eyes upon a young person who might 
 be about his own age. She was a provoking little 
 brunette with velvety black eyes, long lashes, and 
 well-defined, well-arched eyebrows ; her whole per- 
 son breathed cheerfulness, pleasure, mischief and 
 coquetry ; her slender waist was rounded and
 
 PETIT-TRICK THE BRETON 
 
 supple and denoted that she was graceful in all her 
 movements. Lively in humor, jolly and full of 
 fun, Mademoiselle Pelagic, this was the name of 
 the young girl, was most attractive and winning at 
 the first glance ; without doubt, though, one should 
 not marry a woman for no better reason than the 
 impression she produces at first sight. 
 
 People say that when they are reasonable, but 
 this dangerous first glance usually does its work, 
 and one cannot easily efface the impression made 
 by it. 
 
 Mademoiselle Pelagic lived with an old para- 
 lytic aunt. Is there a feebler restraint for a young 
 girl than an old aunt who cannot stir from her arm- 
 chair ? Mademoiselle Pelagic quite often left her 
 aunt to the servant's care and went by herself 
 about the country, sometimes on foot, sometimes 
 on horseback ; the young person sat her horse like 
 a pupil of Boucher or Franconi ; she often shot 
 small birds and she smoked cigarettes. 
 
 Trick had noticed all this and he was delighted. 
 After following Mademoiselle Pelagic, with both 
 eyes and feet, for a long time, Trick accosted her 
 one day at the edge of a little wood, where she had 
 dismounted to allow her horse to get his breath. 
 
 The youth approached the seductive Amazon. 
 
 " Excuse my temerity," said he, " but I have 
 long desired to make your acquaintance. I am 
 called Trick, and I live on an estate in your neigh- 
 borhood."
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 133 
 
 Mademoiselle Pelagic knew Petit-Trick well ; 
 she had noticed that for a long time past he had fol- 
 lowed her everywhere, that he incessantly dogged 
 her steps ; and she guessed the reason exactly. 
 
 Where is the woman, the lady, the widow, the 
 young girl, who is not aware when she has made 
 a conquest ? unless, indeed, in the case of one of 
 those timid lovers who only follow their charmers 
 afar off, who only look furtively at them, and dare 
 not touch them with the tip of a finger. But this 
 kind of lover is becoming rare, there is even reason 
 for thinking that the species is altogether lost. 
 
 Mademoiselle Pelagic smiled encouragingly on 
 young Trick, and answered, 
 
 " You are not unknown to me, monsieur; I 
 knew that you were my neighbor, and I have seen 
 you several times in my walks." 
 
 " Mademoiselle, what I have to say to you may 
 seem somewhat premature and very bold ; but when 
 one's happiness is in question, I have always thought 
 one should act quickly." 
 
 " That is my opinion also, monsieur ; so speak, 
 and do not be afraid to explain yourself." 
 
 " Mademoiselle, since I inherited my uncle's 
 property one thing only has been lacking to make 
 me completely happy." 
 
 " What is this thing monsieur ? " 
 
 " A wife, mademoiselle." 
 
 " You are perfectly right, monsieur a man 
 without a wife is like a body without a mind."
 
 134 PETIT-TRICK THE BRETON 
 
 Young Trick might have thought this remark 
 rather unflattering, especially from the mouth of 
 a young lady ; but, far from that, he was delighted 
 at this answer, and exclaimed, 
 
 " You speak like an angel, mademoiselle. Yes, 
 I am the body looking for a soul. Will you be 
 mine, ravishing Pelagic ? or, to speak plainly, will 
 you be my wife ? I lay my name, my person, and 
 my fortune, at your feet." 
 
 Pelagic looked at the young man with an ex- 
 pression that might have been interpreted to mean 
 several things ; at last she answered, 
 
 " You are in love with me, then ? " 
 
 " Madly in love." 
 
 " And how long is it since you began to love 
 me?" 
 
 " Six weeks." 
 
 " And you haven't told me till today you 
 must have thought about it a good deal ! " 
 
 "It was because I didn't dare." 
 
 " Ha, ha, ha ! a timid man seems to me like a 
 lame horse, if you leave him to himself he's sure 
 to throw you to the ground." 
 
 Trick was delighted with this reflection also. 
 
 " Mademoiselle," he said, " I am not lame, trust 
 yourself to me, and you will never lack support. 
 Can you grant me what I ask ? Will you allow me 
 to hope ? " 
 
 " You may hope, to be sure, that never does any 
 harm. As to accepting you for a husband pos-
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 135 
 
 sibly I may. However, I must learn your dispo- 
 sition first, that I may know if you will suit me. 
 Can you ride a horse ? " 
 
 " A little, mademoiselle." 
 
 " You will mount behind me, we shall see if you 
 know how to keep on." 
 
 And without waiting for Trick to answer, Ma- 
 demoiselle Pelagic jumped lightly on her courser. 
 The young man took much longer to mount ; at 
 last he was seated on the crupper of the saddle. 
 
 " Hold tight to me," said Pelagic, "for I warn 
 you I like to go fast." 
 
 " Oh, mademoiselle," answered Trick, clasping 
 the Amazon's tiny waist, " go at a gallop, go as 
 fast as you like, as fast as he can lay legs to the 
 ground even ; I shall be only too happy to ride 
 on horseback with you." 
 
 Pelagic struck her horse with her riding crop, 
 and he darted off at lightning speed. Trick held 
 the horsewoman tight round the waist, but he 
 bounded on the crupper in such a way as to cause 
 him to make some very singular grimaces. Pres- 
 ently Mademoiselle Pelagie's courser, unaccus- 
 tomed to carry two persons, began to gambol and 
 prance ; and Trick, to whom this new kind of 
 exercise was unexpected, let go of his partner and 
 rolled in the dust. 
 
 " You haven't a very sure seat," said Pelagic 
 laughing, " but 1 will give you some lessons. Have 
 you a horse ? "
 
 136 PETIT-TRICK THE BRETON 
 
 " No, mademoiselle." 
 
 " You must buy a handsome, lively, well-trained 
 one for me, and I will give you this one, which 
 never gambols when he carries only one person." 
 
 The next day, Trick offered the handsome Am- 
 azon a very pretty horse. Two days later made- 
 moiselle made Trick give her a beautiful pearl 
 collarette, and some days later some diamond ear- 
 rings. 
 
 The young girl was full of fancies, and she ex- 
 claimed, 
 
 " To please me, you will first of all have to sat- 
 isfy my caprices ; I shall never believe in the love 
 of a man who fails to gratify all my desires." 
 
 " She must be certain that I love her," said 
 Trick to himself, " for I always hasten to give her 
 everything for which she expresses the slightest 
 wish ; but I am quite certain that she is grateful, 
 and that in return she is madly in love with me." 
 Later on, Trick said to Pelagic, 
 
 " When shall we be married ? " 
 
 " By and by, but I want to study your disposi- 
 tion a little more," answered the damsel. 
 
 The only thing that displeased Trick was that 
 Mademoiselle Pelagic received a good many young 
 men at her house. 
 
 " If they are lovers," said Trick to the young 
 girl, " why don't you dismiss them ? for since you 
 like me you can't like them also." 
 
 This reasoning was entirely illogical, for we
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 137 
 
 always like a good many people at the same time ; 
 but Pelagic laughingly answered, 
 
 " These young men come to see my aunt ; she 
 loves company, and, as it gives her pleasure to have 
 people come to the house, I am too good a niece 
 to deprive her of it." 
 
 But one fine morning Trick took it into his 
 head to get up sooner than usual, to see the sun 
 rise ; and as he passed through a dense bit of wood, 
 he came upon Mademoiselle Pelagic beneath a tree 
 with a handsome young fellow, also watching the 
 sun rise. 
 
 Trick became white, yellow, red and blue with 
 anger at having been thus duped. As to the young 
 Amazon, she only laughed, and said, 
 
 " Oh, so you watch people, do you ? decidedly 
 I shan't marry you, you are too suspicious, and 
 then you don't know how to keep your seat on 
 horseback." 
 
 " I am out of pocket so far as my presents are 
 concerned," said Trick to himself, as he turned 
 towards home again. " But it was very fortunate 
 that I found her out before marriage instead of 
 after. Come, I was mistaken in her. I thought 
 that young girl was rather free in her actions, but 
 I am beginning to see that she is too much so. It 
 is owing to her aunt, who is paralytic. I shan't pay 
 my addresses again to a damsel whose parents are 
 helpless. How fortunate it was that I got up early 
 this morning. I shall look for another wife, but
 
 138 PETIT-TRICK THE BRETON 
 
 this time I shall not allow myself to be taken in, 
 I shall be more careful. Mademoiselle was much 
 too flighty, and her manners smacked of the stable, 
 they were very masculine. A timid, modest wom- 
 an is much better. Oh, I shall find what I want, 
 only I must be quick about it." 
 
 Young Trick was in a hurry to assume marital 
 chains ; he recognized the happiness of marriage, 
 he thought as Voltaire has written, 
 
 . . . Women were made by heaven, 
 Turbid souls of men to leaven ; 
 To make them better and to give relief, 
 To calm their humors and dispel their grief. 
 
 However, Mademoiselle Pelagic had taken sin- 
 gular measures to correct Petit-Trick's early rising. 
 But at eighteen years of age one soon forgets a 
 misadventure. 
 
 A short time after this the young man learned 
 that in a pretty bourgeoise house, inhabited by an 
 old couple of independent means, there was a young 
 lady of marriageable age, and that this damsel, 
 whom people cited for her youth and beauty, 
 passed also for a model of virtue. 
 
 Trick went boldly one day to the Romorantin 
 couple, presented himself as a neighbor desiring 
 to make acquaintance, and for the first time saw 
 Mademoiselle Seraphinette. 
 
 Picture to yourself a blonde with blue eyes, a 
 small, thin-lipped mouth ; a modest forehead on
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 139 
 
 which her beautiful hair fell in thick curls, while 
 others fell on her neck and shoulders, which were 
 dazzlingly white ; picture to yourself a young 
 person who was short and thin, quite tiny, in fact, 
 with small, arched feet and modest, girlish carriage; 
 who lowered her eyes when any one looked at her, 
 who blushed when any one spoke to her, who was 
 embarrassed when she had to answer, and you 
 will have an idea of mademoiselle as she was. 
 
 When he saw the old gentleman's daughter, 
 Trick immediately felt smitten, charmed, seduced, 
 inflamed. 
 
 You think, perhaps, that Trick was very suscep- 
 tible, but I can only tell you that he was at that 
 time but eighteen and a half years old ; and that 
 at that age a man is usually as quickly inflamed as 
 a package of matches; that besides, a man should 
 always be inflamed at the sight of beauty ; that 
 God has created him so. Ask the ladies what a 
 man is who is no longer influenced by beauty, and 
 they will tell you that he is a very undesirable 
 person in any society. 
 
 "This is the woman for me, so innocent, so 
 modest, so gentle, so well-behaved with her eyes 
 almost always downcast ! What a difference be- 
 tween her and that perfidious Pelagic, whose eyes 
 had a trick of staring as though they would pierce 
 through my waistcoat even, and who walked 
 almost like a man. I will marry this young girl. 
 I like to think that she may perhaps find me agree-
 
 i 4 o PETIT-TRICK THE BRETON 
 
 able ; she has not yet looked me in the face 
 but I think she did glance at my profile. Then 
 she has such an obedient, submissive deportment 
 towards her parents, that when the latter say to 
 her, { You are to become Madame Trick,' I wager 
 she will answer, * With pleasure, papa ; when ever 
 you like, mamma.' ' 
 
 Trick hastened to prefer his suit to her parents. 
 
 M. Romorantin was a tall, thin old man, yellow, 
 dry, who looked a good deal like a crow; his wife 
 was a little woman, rather humpbacked and very 
 bandy-legged, and might have taken the part of 
 the fairy Carabosse. 
 
 Seraphinette's parents questioned Trick very 
 closely as to his position, his fortune, then they 
 permitted him to hope, saying, 
 
 "In the mean time we will visit you at your 
 house, in order that we may assure ourselves as to 
 your position." 
 
 Trick welcomed this proposition with joy. He 
 invited the family Romorantin to look upon his 
 house as their own, and to come and dine with him 
 as often as possible. 
 
 It is necessary to say that this old gentleman 
 who looked so much like a crow had a decided 
 liking for the table, and that Madame Carabosse, 
 his wife, was, despite her age, extraordinarily 
 coquettish. 
 
 M. Romorantin therefore installed himself at 
 Trick's ; he sat down at the table there at noon,
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 141 
 
 and remained at it until it was time to go to bed ; 
 whence they had to lead him, sometimes they had 
 to carry him home because his legs entirely refused 
 their office. 
 
 As to Madame Romorantin, it was necessary, 
 in order to win her good graces, that young Trick 
 should present her with some ornament or jewel, 
 or some trifle that was in fashion, every day. But 
 then Trick sometimes had permission to take a 
 turn in the garden alone with Mademoiselle Sera- 
 phinette. This was a great favor, for the elderly 
 coquette often said, 
 
 " My daughter has been brought up with a care 
 that is very rare now-a-days. She has received a 
 fine education, but she has taken all her lessons 
 under our eyes. We have never left her alone with 
 one of her masters, even when he was ninety years 
 old. Seraphinette is a musician, a painter; she 
 knows geography, geometry, algebra, astronomy, 
 indeed she stands very high in astronomy, there's 
 not a star in the heavens but she has its name at 
 the tip of her tongue. She will no doubt become 
 capable of predicting eclipses and comets. But 
 as her master in that science was a very handsome 
 bachelor, I thought she knew enough astronomy 
 and need pursue the study no further. Our daugh- 
 ter is a treasure, and you must show yourself wor- 
 thy of possessing her." 
 
 Trick neglected nothing that was likely to in- 
 duce them to give him their treasute ; he let old
 
 142 PETIT-TRICK THE BRETON 
 
 Romorantin get tipsy every day with the best wine 
 in his cellar ; he almost ruined himself in giving 
 presents to Madame Carabosse, and at last they 
 promised Seraphinette to him, and allowed him to 
 declare his love. 
 
 When Trick told the modest little blonde that 
 he adored her and was about to become her hus- 
 band, she only lowered her eyes and dropped a 
 curtsey, as she answered, 
 
 " Just as you like, monsieur." 
 
 This "just as you like " seemed rather vague to 
 the young man, who answered, trying to show in 
 his voice all the love he experienced, 
 
 " Why, mademoiselle, will it not please you 
 also?" ' 
 
 " Oh, it's all the same to me, monsieur." 
 
 " Oh, it is all the same to you whom you marry? 
 You have not the slightest liking for me, then ? " 
 
 " I don't know, monsieur." 
 
 "Ah, you don't know whether you love me? " 
 
 " Oh, I love everybody, monsieur." 
 
 Instead of finding little that was reassuring in 
 this reply of his future spouse, Trick only saw in 
 it the expression of an innocence of the highest 
 order ; he jumped with joy he would have fallen 
 on Seraphinette's neck had he dared, but respect 
 restrained him, and he contented himself with kiss- 
 ing her hand respectfully, and saying to her, 
 
 ". Mademoiselle, you will be the cream of wives 
 and I that of husbands ! "
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 143 
 
 Trick did not for a moment imagine that such 
 a union might turn out badly. He was at the 
 height of his wishes. The same day he made a 
 magnificent present to the old lady, who said to 
 him, 
 
 "You will be my son-in-law next week." 
 
 In the evening he brought home his future 
 father-in-law, who said nothing, but who kissed 
 him as they parted in a manner truly pathetic. 
 
 At the moment of re-entering his house Trick 
 perceived that he had kept the key of his future 
 father-in-law's garden in his pocket. Then an idea 
 presented itself. 
 
 " Now," said he to himself, " old Romorantin 
 will be snoring, and his wife will probably be doing 
 the same, what if I should go back to their house ? 
 Mademoiselle Seraphinette's window looks on the 
 garden and she is on the groundfloor ; the young 
 girl cannot have gone to sleep yet, one doesn't go 
 to sleep so quickly when one is on the point of 
 marriage ; I shall knock softly on the window, she 
 will open it, and we will talk for a little, I in the 
 garden and she at her window ; that will be quite 
 proper, and after all, as I am to marry this lovely 
 child in a week, there is no great harm in my going 
 to talk with her a little in the moonlight the 
 weather is delightful, one can see almost as well as 
 in the broad daylight." 
 
 Trick then returned towards the dwelling of the 
 Romorantin family. By the help of the key which
 
 144 PETIT-TRICK THE BRETON 
 
 he possessed, he opened the gate and soon found 
 himself in the interior of the garden, which was in 
 the front of the house and was quite large ; there 
 was a lawn, some flower-beds, a kitchen-garden, 
 and then a part which had been made into an 
 English garden ; that is to say, there was shrub- 
 bery there, winding paths, clumps of bushes, and 
 a thousand little turns which almost made it into 
 a labyrinth. 
 
 In crossing this part of the garden, Trick thought 
 he heard some one speaking near him, he stopped, 
 the sound came from a lilac bush which was then 
 full under the moonlight ; Trick, being in the 
 shadow, did not fear being seen. A sound which 
 very much resembled several kisses rapidly suc- 
 ceeding each other, strongly aroused our young 
 lover's curiosity, and parting the foliage he then 
 perceived Mademoiselle Seraphinette, seated very 
 near a handsome fellow who had his arm around 
 her. 
 
 " I have taught you to know," he was saying, 
 " nearly all the planets ; the Great Bear, the Shep- 
 herd, the Three Kings and a host of others not 
 half so bright as your eyes ; now if we sit here and 
 observe the moon in it's varying phases, the idiot 
 you are going to marry will have nothing to teach 
 you by way of astronomy." 
 
 So saying, the professor again showered kisses 
 on the young girl, who seemed to receive and re- 
 turn them very willingly.
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 145 
 
 Trick remained for a moment petrified at this 
 evidence of the fair Seraphinette's duplicity ; but 
 he soon made up his mind how to take it, and 
 bursting into a shout of laughter, he went off sing- 
 ing a rather naughty song very apropos of the 
 occasion. 
 
 And the next day when the old crow came to 
 get tipsy at his house, he showed him to the door. 
 
 However, these two adventures had somewhat 
 abated young Trick's vanity ; he was really com- 
 pelled to confess that he had been taken in, and 
 that he was not so knowing about women as he 
 had thought. 
 
 Had he been altogether frank, he would have 
 said that he knew nothing at all about them. 
 
 Any one else would have stopped there, and 
 would have given up the idea of marrying. But 
 Trick was bent on doing so, and they say no one 
 can escape his destiny. 
 
 Having one day met a very plain widow, of 
 whom it was said, however, that she had made her 
 deceased husband happy, Trick offered himself, and 
 the proposal being agreeable to the widow, at the 
 end of a fortnight they were married. 
 
 " Confound it," said Trick, the day after his 
 wedding, " I have done well to take a wife who is 
 not handsome, I shall at least be easy as to her 
 fidelity ; I know well that it is vexatious enough 
 to be obliged to take an ugly one so I may be 
 sure she will be faithful to me ; but, after all, one 
 
 Vol. XX
 
 146 PETIT-TRICK THE BRETON 
 
 gets used to a face, while I shall never get wiser 
 by being taken in." 
 
 Two months after his marriage, Trick, going 
 down by chance into his cellar, where he hardly 
 ever went, surprised his wife there flirting in the 
 most outrageous way with a neighbor who had 
 offered to come and cork his bottles. 
 
 " Hang it ! " said Trick to himself, striking his 
 forehead ; " since I cannot prevent the very thing 
 I wanted to avoid, I had much better have taken 
 a pretty one." 
 
 And Trick, leaving his wife there, went off by 
 himself to live in a remote spot, saying to him- 
 self, 
 
 " I will never look on a woman, I will never 
 have anything more to do with a woman like 
 that ; it would be devilish nice if I should be taken 
 in again." 
 
 Trick held to' this stubbornly. He would not 
 understand that in this lower world the happiest 
 people are those who allow themselves to be the 
 most easily taken in. 
 
 "Vanitas vanitatum et omnia vanitas!"
 
 A COUNTRY EXCURSION 
 
 " I SHOULD like you to have a day's pleasuring, 
 tomorrow, you and the children ; it's a devilish hard 
 thing to get you to go out; when you have passed a 
 couple of hours at the Tuileries in the morning 
 there's an end of it, there's your whole day gone ; 
 you make everybody go home again, and in the 
 evening you think that you have enjoyed yourself." 
 
 " But, my dear " 
 
 " But, my dearest, permit me to speak first ; one 
 must not grow egotistical and live only for one's 
 self. Our daughter is now over fifteen years old, 
 and at that age a girl likes to go out, to walk about, 
 and to see something beside her mother's skirts." 
 
 " My dear, you know very well we have some 
 people coming, and Leonore " 
 
 " Yes, I know we are expecting company, among 
 them that young genre painter who affects the 
 romantic, for which reason he has allowed his whisk- 
 ers to grow and has a bunch of hair on his lower 
 lip. Whether he be classic or romantic is all the 
 same to me, provided he earns money. If he really 
 loves Leonore, we shall see ; I do not say that I 
 will or will not give her to him, there is plenty of 
 time to think about that. But now, to return to 
 
 47 
 
 V
 
 148 A COUNTRY EXCURSION 
 
 my plan for tomorrow. We must have a little 
 jaunt, we must go to some festival in the outskirts 
 of Paris. A village fete is so very pleasing. But 
 you know nothing as to that, you never want to 
 pass the barriers ; however, it seems to me that the 
 inhabitants of Paris ought to be acquainted with 
 the outskirts, at least, besides, they really belong 
 to Paris ; people get their newspapers at noon in- 
 stead of at eight o'clock, and they pay four sous 
 postage on their letters instead of three, that is the 
 only difference ; we have many men of talent and 
 merit, such as poets, painters, publishers even 
 that is to say, retired publishers who live in the 
 suburbs now because they can live cheaper there, 
 where they pay a sou a pound less for meat. You 
 must know there is great economy in that. On 
 two hundred pounds of meat consumed during the 
 year, there is ten francs saved. It is true a man 
 must spend quite twenty-five francs in cab hire to 
 go back and forth to Paris, but, all the same, it is 
 very economical to live in the country we shall 
 go there tomorrow." 
 
 " I am not a great walker, and " 
 " We'll take an omnibus or a hackney coach ; 
 are there not conveyances everywhere now ? Pres- 
 ently we shall be able to go round the world for 
 six sous. Why, here's our daughter jumping for 
 joy already, and Alexandre, poor boy, how he is 
 going to enjoy himself in the country hey ! " 
 " Oh, yes, papa."
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 149 
 
 " That's all settled, then ; now you must arrange 
 everything so as to be ready to start not later than 
 noon, for one must not set out at four o'clock in 
 the afternoon to go to dine in the country. I'll 
 go and inquire where there is a village festival in 
 progress. You will see something you never saw 
 before, Madame Barbeau, and you must tell me 
 how you like it." 
 
 M. Barbeau had left his wife ; you think, per- 
 haps, that he went to obtain information for the 
 next day and to settle upon the locality to which 
 he should take his family ? Not at all, M. Bar- 
 beau had not taken ten steps after leaving home 
 before he had quite forgotten all he had said to 
 his wife of his plan for the morrow. 
 
 He met a friend,^first of all, took his arm, wished 
 him good-day, and inquired about his health, with- 
 out leaving his friend time to answer. Then he 
 entered into conversation, if one can call that con- 
 versation where one person does all the talking ; 
 and note well this fact, M. Barbeau incessantly 
 recalled new incidents which led to other stories, 
 which necessitated further explanations in such a 
 manner that it seemed as though he would never 
 be done. No one could remember the point from 
 whence he started, in fact, he often forgot it himself; 
 for apropos of a play at the varieties he would 
 ramble off to Belgium or pates de Lesage ; his 
 discourse was exactly like the " Arabian Nights," 
 one story led to another, and that to several others.
 
 150 A COUNTRY EXCURSION 
 
 I defy any one to get away from him, and when 
 by chance one wished to slip in the slightest re- 
 mark or reflection, M. Barbeau would stop him, 
 saying, 
 
 " Pardon me, I had not finished." 
 
 But for all this, M. Barbeau was a good liver, 
 a jolly, straightforward, rotund man, in mind as 
 well as physiognomy ; cheerful, jovial, amiable 
 even, except to chatty people, who never could get 
 on with him. 
 
 He was a retired publisher, and had known 
 many men of talent ; he could recall a word of one, 
 a trait of another ; he loved to bring them in in 
 his conversation, which was amusing to those who 
 cared to listen to him. He had done a great deal 
 of business, of which he had forgotten the disa- 
 greeable and remembered only the pleasant epi- 
 sodes. He was of a happy disposition ; never 
 uneasy in advance, never so even in difficult mo- 
 ments ; absent-minded, careless, seeing only the 
 good side, even in the most vexatious things. 
 When his business went badly, when he had a thou- 
 sand reasons for being troubled in the present and 
 uneasy as to the future, what did M. Barbeau ? 
 Why, as soon as it was light he left his house and 
 went off to pass his whole day in playing dominos. 
 But he remained friendly with everybody ; that is 
 the best praise that can be accorded him. 
 
 Madame Barbeau was as quiet as her husband 
 was lively, and as the extremes thus met, it was a
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 151 
 
 proof that they were in accord. Their daughter 
 was fifteen years old, she was timid and spoke lit- 
 tle ; their son was ten, and already made as much 
 noise as his father. This was the whole family. 
 On the following day, it being Sunday, the mamma 
 and the children were ready, dressed to go out, at 
 eleven o'clock in the morning; but it was past 
 noon and they waited vainly for M. Barbeau, who 
 had gone out very early, saying he would not be 
 five minutes absent. 
 
 The genre painter had come to pay a visit to 
 the ladies and had asked permission to accompany 
 them on their excursion into the country, he wanted 
 to make some sketches there. 
 
 But time passed and the head of the family did 
 not return. The young girl sighed as she looked 
 at the clock ; the painter sighed as he looked at 
 the young girl, and the little boy looked at his 
 new trousers. Only the mamma preserved her 
 good-humored expression, after keeping house for 
 twenty years she was used to awaiting her husband. 
 
 At length, just as it was striking two, M. Bar- 
 beau came in with a little, dry, withered man who 
 bowed graciously to the whole family, while the 
 retired publisher exclaimed, 
 
 " Here I am. Just imagine, I totally forgot our 
 country excursion, I met a man with whom I 
 lunched, a man whom I hadn't seen for a dozen 
 years at least, and a good many adventures had 
 befallen him, which he has been telling me, and
 
 152 A COUNTRY EXCURSION 
 
 which I will relate to you on the way. After lunch 
 we were walking quietly to the Palais-Royal ; there 
 I met Grigou here, who said to me as we chatted, 
 'It's a very fine day, I should like to go to the 
 country.' Thereupon I smote my forehead and 
 exclaimed, 
 
 " 'Good heavens ! and they are all expecting me 
 at the house to go to a village festival.' I proposed 
 to Grigou to come with us and he accepted ; the 
 more fools there are, the more everybody will laugh. 
 Come, wife, send some one for a carriage, and be 
 sure and tell the maid to get a large one." 
 
 The carriage came ; although it was large, the 
 party had some trouble in stowing themselves away 
 in it, because M. Barbeau himself almost took up 
 one side of the vehicle. They did the best they 
 could by putting the children on one seat with their 
 mother, while M. Grigou was almost hidden be- 
 hind M. Barbeau, to whom he said, " I shall be 
 stifled," and the latter answered him, " You're all 
 right try not to move too much." 
 
 " Where are we to go ? " asked the coachman. 
 
 At this very natural question, each looked at 
 the other, and Madame Barbeau said to her hus- 
 band, 
 
 "Well, my dear, where are we going ? " 
 
 " Devil take me ! if I know anything about it! 
 Coachman, where is there a fete champetre today?" 
 
 The coachman reflected for some time, then he 
 answered,
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 153 
 
 " Mercy ! there is one at Tivoli, at la Chau- 
 miere." 
 
 " That won't do ; we want to go into the coun- 
 try, to some place where they are having a junket." 
 
 " Oh, that's different. Would you like me to 
 take you to Batignolles to Father Lathuille's ? " 
 
 " We know Father Lathuille ; one dines well at 
 his place, but that is not quite far enough out in 
 the country for us." 
 
 " I think there is a fete at Belleville." 
 
 " Let's go to Belleville, then ; off we go ! " 
 
 " But," suggested M. Grigou, trying to show 
 himself from behind M. Barbeau's back, " Belle- 
 ville is not very countrified, it's like a Parisian 
 faubourg ; we can do better than that." 
 
 " Come, you always differ in opinion from the 
 rest of us. We must amuse ourselves at Belle- 
 ville, we shall see the fete. Let me manage the 
 thing, and don't move about so much." 
 
 The little man said nothing more ; he only tried 
 to get an arm free, in order that he might draw his 
 handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his face. 
 
 During the whole ride M. Barbeau related the 
 adventures of the friend he had met in the morn- 
 ing. They let him talk on without interrupting 
 him ; this being the family custom. The young 
 painter looked at Leonore, while he seemed to be 
 absorbed in her father's stories. As to Friend 
 Grigou, he was not always content to be a listener ; 
 he liked also to relate his story, to say his word,
 
 154 A COUNTRY EXCURSION 
 
 but he let Barbeau talk in the carriage, saying to' 
 himself, 
 
 " I shall have my turn when we get into the 
 fields." 
 
 They soon reached Belleville. The coachman 
 stopped before the He d' Amour. The party 
 alighted, dismissed the carriage, and walked for a 
 short distance along the principal street of the vil- 
 lage, looking for some signs of a festival. But all 
 was very quiet ; there was not even a shop where 
 they sold gingerbread or cream-cakes. The mamma 
 walked sedately along, holding her daughter's arm ; 
 the little boy marched in the middle of the gutter 
 and tried to get himself dirty, that he might at 
 least be doing something ; the painter in vain 
 sought a country site in the principal street of 
 Belleville, and Grigou looked around him in a very 
 bad humor, muttering, 
 
 " Is this what they call the country ? " 
 
 Suddenly, M. Barbeau stopped in front of the 
 party, saying, 
 
 " Here we've been, for the past fifteen minutes, 
 walking along like imbeciles ; do you call this 
 amusing ? " 
 
 " Not at all." 
 
 " I should say not." 
 
 " And so should I, the coachman is a stupid- 
 head, there's no fete here ; but we are not obliged 
 to stay. Let's go up the village and go to the 
 Romainville wood, perhaps there's a fete there."
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 155 
 
 ' " Romainville ! I don't like that wood," said 
 M. Grigou ; " once when I wanted to have a 
 chestnut " 
 
 " Come, Grigou, you are never of the same opin- 
 ion as anybody else, it is necessary to put one's 
 self aside in society ; you always want your own 
 way ! it's ridiculous ! " 
 
 "Why, it appears to me, on the contrary " 
 
 " We will go to Romainville ; that is settled." 
 
 They left Belleville, crossed the Saint-Fargeau 
 park, they were in the country. 
 
 " Oh, papa, a donkey ! " shouted the little boy. 
 
 " Do you want to ride a donkey ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, papa ! " 
 
 " We'll hire one, then, we must amuse ourselves 
 in the country ! Nonore will ride also and you, 
 wife?" 
 
 " Why, the idea ! are you mad, M. Barbeau ? " 
 
 "Would you like a horse better? I'll hire you 
 a little pony." 
 
 " Neither a horse nor a donkey ; as if I should 
 be able to hold on ! " 
 
 " Grigou, you'll have a horse ? " 
 
 " Me ? I haven't mounted one for I don't know 
 how long wait a bit " 
 
 "It's not worth while, I'll go and hire some 
 horses." 
 
 M. Barbeau had two donkeys and two horses 
 saddled. His son and his daughter mounted on 
 the quieter animals. M. Grigou wished in vain to
 
 156 A COUNTRY EXCURSION 
 
 resist. His friend got him on horseback despite 
 himself; then he bestrode the other courser and the 
 procession started, followed by the mamma, whose 
 feet were already very bad, and the genre painter, 
 who would have liked to stop to sketch a view. 
 
 M. Barbeau and his friend soon lost sight of the 
 donkeys. They entered the wood, and in a slop- 
 ing path which M. Barbeau thought best to take 
 at a trot, Friend Grigou shot over his horse's head, 
 the animal's front legs failing him. 
 
 " I was sure that would happen to me," ex- 
 claimed Grigou, calling for help and uttering 
 mournful groans. 
 
 " What's the matter with you ? " said M. Bar- 
 beau, coming back. 
 
 " You see very well I fell." 
 
 " Because you don't know how to stick on." 
 
 " Why, this confounded horse threw me." 
 
 "It is that you don't know how to hold your 
 horse." 
 
 " It is your fault ! " 
 
 " Come, you are not hurt. That's nothing ; in 
 the country one must amuse one's self. Let's go 
 back and find the ladies." 
 
 " Let us go back ; but I shan't mount again ; 
 I shall lead my horse by the bridle." 
 
 "You are too timid." 
 
 The gentlemen returned towards the edge of the 
 wood ; they saw a donkey rolling on the sand after 
 throwing the lady who was riding him, and who
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 157 
 
 had fallen in such a way that the skirt of her dress 
 hid her face. 
 
 " By Jove ! that's delightful," cried M. Bar- 
 beau. " Look there, Grigou, what a pity Belle- 
 feuille is not here. What a pretty genre picture he 
 would make of that ! " 
 
 Grigou sought his spectacles that he might the 
 better see this picture, but before he had found 
 them Madame Barbeau came running on the op- 
 posite side and had drawn down the skirt which 
 hid the features of the young person who had fal- 
 len ; then M. Barbeau saw it was his daughter on 
 the ground, and he did not think it quite so funny. 
 He got down from his horse and ran to his wife, 
 who was wringing her hands and crying. 
 
 " What is the matter here ? " 
 
 " My daughter has had a fall this ugly donkey 
 insisted on lying down." 
 
 " I know all that. Are you hurt, Leonore, my 
 dear?" 
 
 " Oh, dear no, papa ! " 
 
 "Then don't think any more of it." 
 
 " Don't think any more of it ! That is easy 
 for you to say," said the mamma; "but my daugh- 
 ter fell in a very disagreeable manner." 
 
 " I know all that. Did Bellefeuille see her, do 
 you think? " 
 
 " No," answered madame, " thank heaven he 
 had remained behind." 
 
 " Then there is no harm done. All's well.
 
 158 A COUNTRY EXCURSION 
 
 Hello, Bellefeuille ! my dear fellow, have the kind- 
 ness to take back these horses and this donkey, 
 we've had enough of them. We'll sit down and 
 roll on the grass while we wait for you." 
 
 The young artist was not at all delighted at this 
 commission, but he dared not refuse ; he started 
 on a horse, leading the donkey and the other horse 
 by the bridle. M. Barbeau shouted to him that 
 he looked as if he were imitating Franconi. 
 
 " We'll go into that restaurant down there, and 
 inquire if there's a fete about here," said M. Bar- 
 beau. 
 
 " I see nothing to indicate one," said Grigou, 
 " but I am already hungry." 
 
 " However, it is not dinner time yet, we have 
 lots of time." 
 
 " Lots of time ! because you've had a good 
 luncheon you're not in a hurry." 
 
 " My wife is waiting for us on the grass with her 
 daughter. I'll go and find out if there's a festival 
 about here, and where it is held." 
 
 Madame Barbeau wished nothing better than to 
 sit and rest with her daughter, and Grigou fol- 
 lowed his friend Barbeau. 
 
 The restaurateur to whom they presented them- 
 selves was as talkative as M. Barbeau ; in answer 
 to a single question he involved himself so far in 
 his phrases that he could not get out of the tangle ; 
 in giving a direction, he began by describing the 
 whole neighborhood ; and when anyone asked him
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 159 
 
 if he could give them dinner he enumerated the 
 number of dishes he could prepare, and those he 
 had invented, and even gave a recipe for the sauce, 
 and all that in order to inform his customer that 
 he had nothing but roast veal. 
 
 M. Barbeau got into a perspiration with im- 
 patience, he interrupted the man abruptly in the 
 middle of a description of a dessert dish of his own 
 composition, and said to him, 
 
 "I have been asking you for an hour if there is 
 a fete at Romainville, if we shall find a good din- 
 ner at your place, and instead of answering me you 
 talk about sweetmeats, jams, and jellies. Do you 
 suppose I came to you to learn cooking ? " 
 
 "Monsieur what is it? what have I done? 
 have I insulted you ? If I have insulted you, 
 monsieur, I am a man and I will give you every 
 satisfaction." 
 
 " Go to the devil ! why, you're proposing a duel 
 to me now. We won't dine here, for you talk too 
 much and don't attend to your business." 
 
 M. Barbeau left the restaurant followed by Gri- 
 gou, who said, 
 
 " We must dine somewhere, however." 
 
 They seated themselves on the grass. M. Belle- 
 feuille came back with little Alexandre, who wrig- 
 gled as he walked, because he had torn his trousers 
 while riding the donkey and was afraid his mamma 
 would see it. But just then mother and daughter 
 were admiring the very fine walnuts on a tree at a
 
 little distance from where they were seated, and 
 M. Barbeau was deep in a story which was not at all 
 amusing to Grigou because there was no end to it. 
 
 " I must tell you, then," said the retired pub- 
 lisher, " that one day being in the country with 
 some friends we took upon ourselves to make a 
 big, jolly fellow called Duloiret tipsy he had just 
 come up from his province." 
 
 " Duloiret ! why, I knew him ! " cried Grigou. 
 
 "That's all right, but the fact that you knew 
 him has no bearing on my story." 
 
 "Yes, but I know what they made him do, and 
 to prove it, I'll tell you the story, and " 
 
 " No, permit me, I ought to know better than 
 you, and I believe I can tell it better also." 
 
 And without awaiting his friend Grigou's per- 
 mission, M. Barbeau resumed his anecdote, which 
 would necessarily lead to a dozen others. How- 
 ever, in the midst of his recital the father of the 
 family perceived that his son and daughter were 
 absorbed in something else ; he said to them, 
 
 " What are you looking up into the air for, 
 while I am speaking ? " 
 
 " Those are walnuts over there and very fine 
 ones." 
 
 "Mamma, do you want me to climb the tree?" 
 exclaimed little Alexandre. 
 
 " No, my friend," said papa, " you have torn 
 your trousers enough already; if you should climb 
 the trees you would enlarge the rent so as not to
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 161 
 
 be able to go back to Paris. Grigou, come and get 
 some nuts for the ladies, you see Bellefeuille is mak- 
 ing his sketches ; you aren't very gallant, Grigou." 
 " Why don't you climb up yourself? " 
 " I am not light like you." 
 " But is it permitted to climb the trees ?" 
 " To get a few nuts ? Why, don't be afraid." 
 Grigou decided to climb up and beat down a 
 few nuts; he preferred to do it to listening to 
 M. Barbeau's stories. 
 
 The latter extended himself on the grass beside 
 Bellefeuille, and said to him, 
 
 " If I were a painter I would sketch all the 
 natural things I could see." 
 
 " Monsieur, that is not so easy, to " 
 " Pardon me, allow me to unfold my idea, I 
 have had a few happy thoughts in my life. I have 
 often given an author a subject, an idea, for a book, 
 and those books always sold well." 
 
 " Why, a book, monsieur, is not at all " 
 " I hadn't finished, my dear fellow. Hold, look 
 at these people who are passing before us. It is 
 Paris in the country, here." 
 
 "That is to say, these are bourgeois, workmen." 
 " That's what they are, and if I were a man of 
 letters or a painter I would profit by it. Wait, 
 here are a couple coming along; these are inhabi- 
 tants of Paris, as it is Sunday they are very well 
 dressed. They put their heads too near together 
 when they speak, and look at each other too often, 
 
 Vol. XX
 
 162 A COUNTRY EXCURSION 
 
 to be man and wife. The young man is pouting 
 a little; the lady was perhaps unwilling to go into 
 the wood with him. But they are going into a 
 restaurant, they will have a private room and make 
 it all up again. He seems like a dealer in novel- 
 ties and lingerie ; notice what a choice collarette 
 the lady has on, and that the young man's waist- 
 coat and trousers are made of new stuff. 
 
 " Who are these going down there laughing and 
 jumping and making noise and dust ? It is un- 
 necessary to ask, they are grisettes, but grisettes of 
 the second order; they are none the less cheerful for 
 having set aside all ceremony. There are five of 
 them, and not a single poor little man among 
 them, but that does not prevent them from laugh- 
 ing, from having a thoroughly good time ; these 
 damsels would not think they were amusing them- 
 selves if they did not make as much noise as an 
 army in retreat ; they poke fun at everyone they 
 meet ; there, they are stopping now, and consulting 
 as they look at the eating-house. I'll wager they 
 are counting what money they have among the five 
 to see if they can go in to dinner there. They 
 open their bags, they calculate. You see the re- 
 sult ; instead of going into the best restaurant here- 
 abouts, they turn towards a little inn ; their means 
 will not permit them more than home-made wine 
 and omelette and bacon. But they will indemnify 
 themselves this evening in making the first imbe- 
 cile who wants to court them pay for beer or punch.
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 163 
 
 " Then all the week, while binding shoes or 
 making buttonholes, they will remember the pleas- 
 ures of Sunday. They must have some philoso- 
 phy, or a great fund of good-humor, to make one 
 day's pleasure suffice for a whole week. It is true 
 there are some rich people, and people of position, 
 who don't amuse themselves one day out of seven 
 even. There is compensation for everything. 
 
 "Ah, here are some of the natives; they are 
 strong and robust, but they are ugly. In general 
 the peasants on the outskirts of Paris are not pretty, 
 nor does one see anywhere such picturesque head- 
 gear as in Normandy or Franche-Comte. These 
 flat caps are not at all becoming, and these peas- 
 ants always wear short gowns which do not allow 
 one to see whether they are well-made or not. The 
 peasant who is with them has put on his police hel- 
 met, to show that he is in the National Guard ; since 
 it is deemed well that these good people should 
 be drilled, they believe, even when working, that 
 it is their duty to assume something of a military 
 appearance, and wherefore ? it is not a crime to be 
 more at one's ease in a blouse than in a uniform. 
 
 " But here is a workman in his Sunday clothes, 
 who is bringing his family here ; he's drawing a lit- 
 tle wicker carriage containing his two last babies, 
 with the provisions for dinner. His wife is behind 
 him ; she carries nothing, but it is easy to be seen 
 that in the near future one of the youngsters in the 
 go-cart will be ousted from his proud position by
 
 164 A COUNTRY EXCURSION 
 
 a newcomer; she is cross and disagreeable, com- 
 plains all along the road, and never speaks to her 
 husband except to say, f Take care ! you are jolt- 
 ing it over the stones ; you'll upset them. How 
 carelessly you do draw it.' And the poor man, who 
 is bathed in perspiration, tries to persuade himself 
 that he is enjoying his Sunday, and works like a 
 convict during the week to procure this pleasant 
 diversion. 
 
 " Why, here's a cavalcade ! Why, my dear Belle- 
 feuille, is not that worth the trouble of sketching ? 
 these horsemen with otter-skin caps and ragged 
 neckties. As they have no straps to their trous- 
 ers, those garments are pulled almost up to their 
 knees, and as they have no stockings in their shoes 
 they show their naked legs to the passers-by, which 
 on horseback produces a very pretty effect. On 
 seeing these horsemen in tatters one is tempted to 
 say, ' Instead of hiring a horse at thirty sous an 
 hour, would it not be better if you were to buy 
 some stockings ? ' They might answer you, { Don't 
 meddle in what doesn't concern you.' That's 
 right; that's why I say nothing to them." 
 
 While M. Barbeau was making his original re- 
 view, which he had not yet completed, Friend 
 Grigou had directed his steps towards the walnut 
 tree at which he was throwing stones ; how this 
 game reminded him of his youth ! he was delighted, 
 and every time a walnut fell at his feet he shouted, 
 " There's another ! v He had launched his twen-
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 165 
 
 tieth stone, and picked up his eighth walnut, which 
 does not say much for his skill, when a little man, 
 decorated with a tin badge, armed with a great 
 sabre, and having a three-cornered hat on his head, 
 of which the point was placed exactly over the nose, 
 dashed at him and seized him by the collar, shout- 
 ing* 
 
 "Ah, I've caught you at it ! Such brazon effron- 
 tery on a Sunday, and before everybody. Come 
 along to prison, Parisian." 
 
 Grigou tried to excuse himself and to get away ; 
 but the keeper, who was usually half seas over on 
 week days, on Sundays got completely tipsy and 
 would not listen to reason or let go of his man. 
 Several peasants had already come running, and 
 they were not sparing of their insults to Grigou. 
 Peasants are always delighted when they can molest 
 city people. To hear them one would think that 
 the inhabitants of Paris came to the country only 
 to pillage and destroy ; however, these farm labor- 
 ers and ploughmen, who are pictured to us some- 
 times as possessed of all the domestic virtues, while 
 they really are, for the most part, envious, jealous, 
 suspicious, crafty, and scheming, what would they 
 do with their produce if the people of the cities, 
 whom they incessantly berail, would not buy it? 
 No doubt the dwellers in the cities would be equally 
 inconvenienced if the country folk did not culti- 
 vate the fruits of the earth for them. But what 
 does that prove ? That we all have need one of the
 
 i66 A COUNTRY EXCURSION 
 
 other. Is that any reason why we should tear 
 each other to pieces continually ? 
 
 Grigou's shouts had been heard by the party on 
 the grass. M. Barbeau rose, and ran to the midst 
 of the group. He asked, inquired, allowed no one 
 to answer ; but he easily guessed what was the mat- 
 ter when he saw the rural guard holding Grigou 
 by the collar. 
 
 " What are you going to do ? Take a man to 
 prison for a walnut ? " 
 
 " Monsieur, it is " 
 
 " I can see what it is very well. Is it worth 
 while to make such an uproar about a small mat- 
 ter like that ? " 
 
 "Oh, when a " 
 
 "You want us to compensate you, eh? Well, 
 here is a hundred sous, go and leave us in peace." 
 
 The keeper waved away the five-franc piece, 
 perhaps because there were people around him, and 
 the peasants shouted, 
 
 " You must take him before the mayor at Ro- 
 mainville. All these wicked Parisians come to rob 
 us" 
 
 " You are very fortunate that the Parisians, 
 whom you insult, buy your milk and your pota- 
 toes." 
 
 " Why, if they didn't buy them we should eat 
 them, that is all." 
 
 " Yes, and then how would you buy shoes and 
 clothing and wine, and pay your taxes ? "
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 167 
 
 The churls had no answer to this, but they 
 shouted again, 
 
 " Bring him to the mayor ; bring him to the 
 mayor." And the rural guard, who was getting 
 quite softened at seeing Grigou ready to cry, put 
 on his hat hindside before and led off his prisoner. 
 
 " Let us go to the mayor," said M. Barbeau. 
 
 "What? What is the matter?" demanded 
 Madame Barbeau, who came up at that moment 
 with the rest of the party. 
 
 " Nothing of any moment. We are going to 
 Romainville, before the mayor, for a couple of wal- 
 nuts that Grigou knocked off a tree. It's rather 
 an unpleasant joke ; but we have nothing to do, 
 it will be a walk for us, and perhaps we shall see 
 a fete when we get to the village." 
 
 The company was by no means delighted at the 
 prospect of this walk ; but as M. Barbeau had 
 already gone on with the accused and the witnesses, 
 they could do nothing but follow. On the way 
 M. Barbeau tried to prove to the peasants that 
 they were wrong to arrest a man on account of a 
 walnut, and thereupon he cited to them twenty 
 anecdotes of undoubted veracity ; while Grigou 
 kept saying in a low tone, 
 
 " You are the cause of all this it was you 
 who " 
 
 M. Barbeau cut him short by nudging him in 
 the side with his elbow and whispered, " Be silent, 
 you are injuring your case."
 
 i68 A COUNTRY EXCURSION 
 
 They reached the village of Romainville, where 
 there was no more appearance of a fete than at 
 Belleville. They went to the mayor's house, es- 
 corted by all the children in the place, these, added 
 to the peasants who were conducting Grigou, and 
 the rest of our party, made a very nice little pro- 
 cession, of which M. Barbeau looked like the 
 leader. He walked proudly with his head up, pero- 
 rating as he went along ; he had frightened the 
 rural guard, who began to be afraid he had made 
 a blunder, and even the peasants thought that a 
 man who talked so much must end in being in the 
 right. In fact, any one would have sworn it was 
 M. Barbeau who had had Grigou arrested. They 
 reached the mayor's house ; he was not at home, 
 he was at the town hall. 
 
 " Come to the town hall," cried Barbeau. But 
 as Madame Barbeau and her children were weary, 
 the family seated itself on a stone bench with 
 M. Bellefeuille, who prepared to sketch the en- 
 trance to a milk house. 
 
 They reached the town hall ; the mayor was not 
 there. A neighbor informed them that he had 
 gone to Father Antoine's, where there was a dis- 
 pute between some of the drinkers. 
 
 The rural guard and the peasants looked at each 
 other undecidedly, it was easy to be seen that they 
 were tired of walking about with their prisoner, 
 and that, with some conciliatory words and a few 
 glasses of wine, all might be amicably settled. But
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 169 
 
 Barbeau would not understand this ; without lis- 
 tening to Grigou, who pulled him by his coat, he 
 cried, 
 
 " Come to Father Antoine's. We must see the 
 mayor. I shall be pleased to see him. They would 
 arrest this gentleman, and we must have justice." 
 
 " Why," said Grigou, in a low tone " as they 
 seem kindly disposed now " 
 
 " That's nothing to do with it ; come to Father 
 Antoine's ; I will not be walked about like this 
 for nothing! This cannot be passed off like this." 
 
 They arrived at Father Antoine's, who sold 
 cakes, bacon, and wine. The mayor had left, the 
 quarrel being ended. Mother Antoine believed he 
 had gone back to the town hall to give judgment 
 in the matter of Jean-Marie and Gaspard, who had 
 a well in common, and who never could agree as 
 to whose turn it was to supply a new rope. 
 
 "Then we'll go back to the town hall," said 
 M. Barbeau. But the rural guard, who was 
 accustomed to rest and drink at Father Antoine's, 
 had already taken his seat at a table ; the peasants 
 did the same, saying, 
 
 "Oh, well, there's nothin' to do but let the 
 gentleman go ; he won't take the walnuts again. 
 We've had enough walking for to-day. That's so, 
 ain't it, keeper ? " 
 
 The keeper answered, as he poured out some 
 wine, " Yes we've had enough of it for this 
 time."
 
 1 7 o A COUNTRY EXCURSION 
 
 Grigou was delighted, he was about to thank 
 everybody, when Barbeau came between him and 
 the guard saying, 
 
 " I don't understand this at all, gentlemen, you 
 cannot arrest a man for nothing. I want to return 
 to the town hall." 
 
 At these words Grigou became purple with 
 anger ; he exclaimed in his turn, 
 
 "Hang it, M. Barbeau, that is too much! 
 When this unhappy business is settled, when these 
 gentlemen are willing to forget my heedlessness, 
 you must drag me to the mayor, forsooth ! " 
 
 "Yes, monsieur; because I like things to be done 
 regularly, because I detest arbitrariness and " 
 
 " Go to the devil with your arbitrariness ! It 
 was you who told me to thwack down the walnuts." 
 
 " And what does that prove ? " 
 
 " That you get people into scrapes and leave 
 them there." 
 
 " You see well that I'm getting you out of it." 
 
 " You are a pigheaded, obstinate fellow ! " 
 
 " And you are an idiot ! " 
 
 The dispute between them grew so warm that 
 the guard and the peasants were obliged to inter- 
 pose between the two friends. At length their 
 spirits quieted down. Barbeau seated himself be- 
 side the guard, ordered wine, and paid for every- 
 body. Grigou treated to some cakes with strong 
 butter. They ate and drank and became good 
 friends.
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 171 
 
 While talking and drinking, M. Barbeau said 
 to the peasants, 
 
 " Where are they holding the fete ? " 
 
 "The fete? why there's no fete at Romainville, 
 today ! " 
 
 "There's no fete at Romainville? The devil ! 
 that is what we came here for, however." 
 
 " There's a fete at Bagnolet." 
 
 " Ah, that's lucky ! we'll go and see the fete at 
 Bagnolet it's not very far, I think?" 
 
 " No, a short quarter of a league. Go down 
 the highway as far as a road on the left and you 
 are there." 
 
 " Come, Grigou, a last cup, and we'll be off; 
 our party are waiting for us on a stone bench. 
 Good-by, my good fellows ; your good health ! I 
 bear you no grudge." 
 
 M. Barbeau and Grigou at length left Father 
 Antoine's, and the retired publisher said to his 
 friend, 
 
 "You see everything came out well, I was very 
 calm." 
 
 " It's not your fault it didn't turn out worse." 
 
 " Let it drop ! you didn't understand my tac- 
 tics ; if I had looked like a blubberer, as you did, 
 we should still be their prisoners ! " 
 
 They rejoined the party. Bellefeuille had had 
 time to sketch three cows and all the courtyard. 
 
 "We are going to Bagnolet," cried M. Barbeau 
 as soon as he came within hailing distance of his
 
 172 A COUNTRY EXCURSION 
 
 wife. "It's a charming village, not two steps off 
 and all down hill." 
 
 "To Bagnolet!" said Madame Barbeau; "why, 
 what are you thinking of, monsieur? It's getting 
 dark." 
 
 " What does that matter to us ? I think, dearest, 
 you need not be afraid with me." 
 
 " But we are very tired." 
 
 " It's all going down hill, I tell you." 
 
 " We are dying of hunger." 
 
 " We will dine at Bagnolet." 
 
 No one replied, and they set out on their way 
 and arrived at the entrance to Bagnolet at night- 
 fall. This charming village is composed of but 
 one narrow street and that nearly as long as the 
 Faubourg Saint-Martin. As they advanced they 
 heard a hubbub which seemed to be increasing, 
 they could not distinguish if it was laughter, cries, 
 or songs, but it was going on continually. 
 
 " Good enough ! one can tell there's a fete here," 
 said Barbeau; "do you hear those jolly fellows, how 
 they are amusing themselves ? " 
 
 "I don't know if they are amusing themselves," 
 responded Madame Barbeau ; " but that noise 
 frightens me. One would say they were fighting." 
 
 " It frightens me too," said Nonore, pressing 
 against her mother. 
 
 "If they are fighting," said Grigou, " I should 
 like it quite as well if we did not see the fete." 
 
 " Come, now, you are dreaming. Laughing,
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 173 
 
 dancing, does that frighten you? Come along, 
 I'll be responsible for everything." 
 
 They reached the square of the place, where the 
 festival was in progress. This square was large, 
 like that of the Chevalier-du-Guet in Paris. In 
 a little corner, that had been sanded and roped off, 
 two violins and a tambourine made music for the 
 youth of the place to dance to. Opposite the en- 
 closure were two trucks on wheels, one containing 
 gingerbread, the other sausages. The whole was 
 lighted with lanterns placed on the ground and 
 candles surrounded with paper. 
 
 At the moment the party arrived, a scuffle was 
 taking place between the peasants, of whom the 
 greater part were tipsy. The countrywomen had 
 immediately sought refuge in another direction, 
 from whence they looked on at the gentlemen 
 fighting. But at last the dispute was settled, the 
 ladies came back, the men took their partners and 
 resumed the dance they had left. 
 
 "You can see they are enjoying themselves 
 here," said M. Barbeau. " They make some noise, 
 it is true, because peasants have not the habit of 
 speaking gently." 
 
 "This, then, is what they call a fete cham- 
 petre ? " said Grigou. 
 
 " Wait a bit, we haven't seen everything yet. 
 But first of all we must look for an eating-house." 
 
 They sought, they looked everywhere, but there 
 was no more of an eating-house at Bagnolet than
 
 i 7 4 A COUNTRY EXCURSION 
 
 there was a fete at Romainville. They discovered, 
 however, a small public house over the door of 
 which was written, " Rustic garden and landscape." 
 
 " Do you understand what that means ? " asked 
 M. Barbeau of the painter. 
 
 " By Jove, no ! " 
 
 " Nor I ; but all the same we will go in here, and 
 we'll ask for a f landscape ' where we can get some- 
 thing to eat." 
 
 They entered the drinking-shop but could not 
 stay in the room, for the smell of ale made them 
 ill ; they passed into the rustic garden behind the 
 house, and there the wine merchant asserted that 
 they saw a landscape, for he had pasted on the 
 wall at the bottom of his garden some paper at 
 thirteen sous a roll, on which were printed canaries 
 and paroquets. 
 
 The party, who were famished with hunger, 
 stopped at a table which stood in front of the 
 " landscape " and asked what they could have for 
 dinner. There was nothing for them but some 
 lightly salted pork and some fresh eggs, everything 
 else had been devoured by the peasants who had 
 come to the fete. This repast, washed down by 
 Bagnolet wine, seemed very rustic indeed to the 
 Parisians. They hastily despatched it, and left the 
 " landscape." 
 
 The ball was in full progress and after cramming 
 the party with gingerbread by way of dessert, 
 M. Barbeau positively wanted to make them dance.
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 175 
 
 He drew his wife along in spite of her resistance, 
 Bellefeuille took Nonore's hand, and there they 
 were in the sanded enclosure. The orchestra started, 
 the peasants had started before ; the dance was ex- 
 ceedingly lively, when suddenly some other peas- 
 ants came up, looking furious, and shouted to those 
 who were cutting their capers, " We told you not 
 to dance with our wives ! " and without awaiting 
 an answer they punched the dancers right and left. 
 The latter replied in kind, all the countrymen at 
 the fete came running to take part with one side 
 or the other, and the combat became general. The 
 women fled, shrieking, the children howled, but 
 the violins could still be heard above the din. In 
 the midst of the confusion caused by the sudden 
 onset of the peasants, and the rain of blows they 
 were showering on each other, Madame Barbeau 
 had lost her husband and her daughter had been 
 separated from her partner, and they had some 
 trouble in leaving the enclosure. They called the 
 husband and father, but their voices were lost in 
 those of the peasants who were shouting to separate 
 the combatants. At the corner of the square these 
 ladies came upon Grigou,who had just been picked 
 up by two men, and on whom four peasants had 
 been fighting furiously for five minutes. Grigou 
 was completely knocked up ; but he found enough 
 strength to leave the fete and the village. Then 
 M. Bellefeuille appeared, he had lost his hat, but 
 he had found little Alexandre and brought him to
 
 1 76 A COUNTRY EXCURSION 
 
 his mother. Only M. Barbeau was missing, without 
 whom they could not leave Bagnolet ; he came at 
 length without a necktie, with his collar torn, but 
 still in a good-humor. 
 
 " Oh, the madmen, how they are going it ! " cried 
 he, as he rejoined his wife. 
 
 " Oh, my dear, where have you been ? I was 
 very uneasy." 
 
 " I have been fighting." 
 
 "With whom?" 
 
 " I haven't the least idea ; but, by Jove ! every- 
 body was fighting, and I did like the others, I tried 
 a round with two or three of them, and then they 
 made way for me." 
 
 " Good heavens ! what a country excursion." 
 
 " Do you want to leave here ? " 
 
 " Yes, monsieur, and as quickly as possible." 
 
 " Well, let's get on the way then. But I don't 
 promise you we shall find a carriage at the barriere." 
 
 " Ah, M. Barbeau," groaned Grigou, " you'll 
 never again get me to a festival in the outskirts of 
 Paris."
 
 THE SLIDES OF A MAGIC LANTERN 
 
 ATTENTION, messieurs and mesdames, we have 
 the honor to present to you first the picture of a 
 country festival in the outskirts of Paris. 
 
 The fete is at Loges, near Saint-Germain ; this 
 fete being one of the most brilliant and select, 
 because, being farther from the capital than Saint- 
 Cloud, Vincennes, Pantin and other places, the 
 simple bourgeois of Paris cannot go there afoot, 
 carrying a pasty in a napkin and a fine melon 
 under his arm. To go to Loges one must have a 
 carriage ; every one cannot afford that. 
 
 See this line of landaus, caleches, tilburys. The 
 company would be select if all these vehicles be- 
 longed to the ones who came in them. 
 
 Let us go a little deeper into the wood ; but we 
 must be careful not to fall over the roasts which 
 have been placed here and there in these cooking- 
 pots on the grass. The welkin rings with the joy- 
 ful shouts of the peasants and the gay laughter of 
 the citizens. On all sides are people laughing, 
 dancing, or eating. These hastily prepared tents 
 belong to travelling restaurateurs ; you may see 
 pyramids of partridges, pigeons, and sausages ; that 
 which you would care nothing for in the city seems 
 
 Vol. XX 177
 
 178 SLIDES FROM A LANTERN 
 
 delightful to you in the country ; these fine ladies, 
 even, do not disdain a piece of veal cooked on the 
 grass and often seasoned with dust. 
 
 But see on the right what a brilliant ball, this is 
 for the fashionable people ; the villagers are not 
 admitted there. They are dancing, though they 
 do not look as though they were ; but it is good 
 form now to dance as though one were not dan- 
 cing; on the other hand, they look languishing 
 and put on finical airs, they whisper in their part- 
 ner's ears, or squeeze her hand very delicately. 
 
 Look to the left ; that is a village ball and is 
 distinctly opposed to the other ; the peasant men 
 see who can jump highest, the peasant women 
 shake and joggle ; if they don't keep time to the 
 music, at least it is easy to be seen they are dan- 
 cing. The first is the polite ball, the second is the 
 natural. Let us pass to another picture. 
 
 I have the honor to present to you the studio 
 of a celebrated painter. If you would like to see 
 a picture of the most unstudied and admired dis- 
 order examine the interior of this studio, while the 
 artist, giving full scope to his genius, finishes a his- 
 torical picture which must still further augment 
 his reputation. 
 
 Look at this table placed to the right, on which 
 are the remains of a breakfast ; lest this disorder 
 frighten you, remember that it was to the confu- 
 sion of tongues of the builders of the tower of 
 Babel that we owe the birth of divers idioms, and
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 179 
 
 remember also that in the midst of contrasts one 
 often finds lessons of philosophy. This table will 
 furnish several. 
 
 See this colored bottle, and this flask which came 
 from a fashionable woman's bag ; the head of the 
 Venus de Medici on a piece of cheese ; the mod- 
 el's dirty, crumpled bonnet covering the head of 
 a Roman emperor ; some ham in a Greek helmet ; 
 three finger-joint bones on a penny roll ; a Diana's 
 foot on the thighbone of an Antinous ; a bottle of 
 oil on a silk handkerchief; some vermilion on a 
 Death's head ; some cigars wrapped up in a Greek 
 tunic, and a volume of Beranger's songs on the 
 Holy Bible. 
 
 This table shows us the nothingness of human 
 grandeur. It is with men as with things. A time 
 will come when we shall find ourselves placed near 
 a being to whom we were utter strangers. 
 
 But forgive me, messieurs and mesdames, I for- 
 get sometimes that I ought to show you the magic 
 lantern and not point morals for you. My love 
 of talking leads me astray sometimes. Let us pass 
 to another picture. 
 
 See this enchanting scene, embellished by nature; 
 how green are these trees, how flowery these meads, 
 how transparent these waters, and how blue these 
 skies ; it is the " interior of the moon " taken from 
 the Pont des Arts. This is an exactly correct rep- 
 resentation ; the artist with a telescope, which car- 
 ried him to this place, was able to distinguish the
 
 i8o SLIDES FROM A LANTERN 
 
 inhabitants of the moon so clearly that he per- 
 ceived even those who had gone down to their 
 cellars, for they have cellars in the moon and they 
 drink wine there made from seedless grapes which 
 are very common in that country. The fare there 
 is very good, people live well there and the luna- 
 tics are very plump. There are many very agree- 
 able things in this country. It is daylight there 
 forty-eight hours at a time and the evenings are 
 very short; this is no doubt why they have not 
 yet introduced lighting by gas. The houses are as 
 high as the towers of Notre Dame, and the small- 
 est trees are higher than the houses. But you 
 wish perhaps to know something of the customs 
 of the inhabitants ; let us examine the details of 
 the picture. 
 
 Notice this young girl at the window of this 
 house ; her looks are constantly turned towards the 
 same point. First of all her face expresses pleasure; 
 it shines in her eyes, a vivid carnation colors her 
 cheeks and she passes her pretty little fingers 
 through her ringlets in order to repair the havoc 
 the wind has made in her tresses. She is singing 
 in a low tone, and smiling as she looks at the road 
 by which the one she is waiting for will come. 
 But for some moments she has not sung. Her 
 hair floats in abandonment the color has fled from 
 her cheeks; her eyes express fear, uneasiness, the 
 falling and rising of her breast is quickened, her 
 heart palpitates; he comes not, although the hour
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 181 
 
 he had appointed is long past. A thousand 
 thoughts agitate her ; a thousand suspicions are 
 presented to her mind. Where is he ? What is he 
 doing now ? Thus terminate all her conjectures. 
 How painful is suspense! Each moment is more 
 than a century and the imagination augments the 
 suffering of the heart. Perhaps he is with a rival ; 
 he has made her the sweetest vows, he has lavished 
 the tenderest caresses upon her. Poor little thing. 
 Her tears are already falling. Why, what sudden 
 change is this J Why this joyful expression even 
 in the midst of her tears ? and this sweet blush 
 which colors her charming face ? She smiles with 
 delight, for she sees him; she would like to scold 
 him for that hour of suspense ; but her heart will 
 not allow her, past evil is but a bad dream. In love 
 a moment's happiness causes one to forget a cen- 
 tury of pain. 
 
 Now you see, ladies, how women love in the 
 moon; it is for you to say whether you experience 
 the same torments and fears when you are expect- 
 ing the one you love. 
 
 But let us penetrate into this boudoir. What 
 ails this young woman ? She is sad, she sighs, she 
 is grieved. Has her husband been unfaithful ? 
 No, her husband does not trouble her. Is her 
 cashmere shawl less handsome than her friend's ? 
 Has some one neglected to invite her to dance at 
 the last ball? It is much worse than that; she 
 has found a white hair. A white hair ! and she is
 
 1 82 SLIDES FROM A LANTERN 
 
 only twenty-nine! In vain her maid has assured 
 her it was only a light-colored one. " No, no ! " she 
 exclaims, " It is white, I am sure of it. White hairs 
 at twenty-nine! Why, it is cruel, it's frightful. I 
 am already growing old, then. What times we are 
 living in. But there is Madame Valmont, whose 
 hair is as black as ebony at forty-five. She has 
 it dyed, perhaps." 
 
 " Madame," said her lady's maid, " Made- 
 moiselle Isaure, who is only twenty-five is obliged 
 to wear a front, oh, there are other things beside 
 age that whiten the hair." 
 
 This speech consoled the young woman a little. 
 So you see, mesdames, that in the moon white 
 hairs alarm beauty ; to whom, however, they im- 
 part a venerable appearance. But ladies do not 
 care so much about being respected; they want to 
 be loved and admired. It is the ladies in the 
 moon of whom I speak. 
 
 Let us now give a little attention to the gentle- 
 men; who is this stout gentleman, walking about 
 this beautiful garden, with an air of importance that 
 is altogether comical ? This is M. Jonas, who, at 
 forty years of age, said to himself, 
 
 "It is very singular, I have mental ability, 
 means, and good personal appearance, and yet 
 I succeed in nothing ; I fail in every business that I 
 undertake. I have no friends, nobody pays any 
 attention to me. I must marry a pretty woman, 
 that will give me importance in society."
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 183 
 
 In fact, M. Jonas did marry; his wife is cheer- 
 ful, lively, agreeable ; she is passionately fond of 
 music and dancing, and M. Jonas' house has be- 
 come the haunt of young men of fashion. The 
 dear husband has more friends than he can count. 
 
 But look on this side, you will see fatuous fel- 
 lows who give decided opinions on things they do 
 not understand ; you will see men of talent 
 modest, retiring, seek their pleasure in study, the 
 arts, and friendship. Over there are some stout 
 men, made of money, liberal entertainers ; they give 
 magnificent dinners, the cost of one of which would 
 feed ten poor families. Here you see men glutted 
 with wealth who yet seek more ; who keep their 
 eyes incessantly on those in power, praising to-day 
 those they depreciated yesterday, and disparaging 
 to-morrow those whom they praise to-day, accord- 
 ing as it serves their cupidity and their unworthy 
 ambition. Look again ; you will see men of let- 
 ters envious of their fellows, fools puffed up with 
 vanity, moralists devoid of honor, hypocrites in 
 favor, rigorists devoid of probity, Catos devoid of 
 humanity, censors devoid of virtue. 
 
 But in order to see all these fine things is it 
 necessary to look into the moon? Let us descend 
 to earth, messieurs and mesdames, and pass to 
 another picture. 
 
 bhow 3)it til :',?.iov/ *g
 
 THE GRISETTES 
 
 THERE are among them many who are pretty, 
 comical, provoking, giddy, sentimental, honest and 
 even virtuous. And why not ? Moliere said : 
 " Where virtue takes up her abode." Why she 
 necessarily must take refuge somewhere; and she 
 is more often found in some humble room under 
 the eaves than in sumptuous boudoirs. When vir- 
 tue is one's only possession, one naturally tries to 
 keep it. 
 
 Since people have become more enlightened and 
 information more general, we have far fewer gri- 
 settes, in the full sense of that term, than were for- 
 merly counted in Paris. The porter's daughter goes 
 to boarding-school ; they give her masters to teach 
 her accomplishments. She has, or thinks she has, 
 some talent for the stage, and forthwith she enters 
 the Conservatoire. If she has no talent and is 
 pleasing, she will find a protector who will place 
 her in a little home of her own. She would have 
 been a grisette pure and simple perhaps, but now 
 she assumes fine airs and attire and ornaments 
 which are very unbecoming indeed. 
 
 There is nothing worse in the world than an 
 equivocal position ; have the question settled, that 
 
 184
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 185 
 
 those about you may know exactly how you stand. 
 A kept woman should try to obtain a carriage and 
 diamonds, people will blame her less if she makes 
 her fortune ; if she seeks pleasure only, let her re- 
 main a grisette ; she may be less constrained in 
 her behavior, less stiffly corseted, less pretentious 
 in her discourse. She need not fear that she will 
 compromise herself by going to the pit of the 
 Gaite, where she may give way freely to her emo- 
 tions, laughing or weeping according as the tyrant 
 is barbarous, the princess unhappy, or the simple- 
 ton funny ; she can enter into conversation with 
 her neighbor if he is pleasing, and if she likes she 
 may allow him, during the entertainment, to snuggle 
 very close to her, which will augment the pleasur- 
 able emotions called forth by the play. Between 
 the acts, if she is hungry (and she will be hungry, 
 for a grisette is always ready to take refreshments), 
 she will go out and procure apples and cakes which 
 she will eat during the course of the evening. Can 
 you not imagine how thoroughly she enjoys her 
 treat ? She is at the theatre, where she makes her- 
 self quite at home ; the grisette takes off her cap 
 and her comb when they feel uncomfortable. She 
 laughs or cries if she desires to do either; she lis- 
 tens to the proposal of a young man who is already 
 ardently in love with her ; he gives her little taps 
 on the knee, which she gently repulses or does 
 not repulse. In fact, she goes out between the 
 acts if it is her fancy to do so, and eats cakes as
 
 1 86 THE GRISETTES 
 
 she listens to the " Bouquetiere des Champs 
 Elysees " or trembles at the " Sonneur de Saint- 
 Paul." Why, all this is worth more than a cash- 
 mere shawl and a toque with feathers. 
 
 Generally speaking, those who are called gris- 
 ettes are work-women ; a girl, however, may be a 
 work-woman and not come under this designation. 
 I no longer recognize as a grisette the steady, 
 economical, working-girl, who goes straight from 
 her shop to her mother, and who does not go out 
 on Sundays except with her parents. 
 
 The grisette loves independence ; she has her 
 room, her own " little place " ; she is virtuous so 
 long as she has not met the handsome or pleasing 
 young man her imagination has created ; she is 
 honest as long as she remains faithful to her lover. 
 But she does not want him to play her any tricks, 
 for then she will revenge herself, and once set going 
 there is no stopping her. 
 
 Very often, in Paris, two grisettes live together. 
 A single room suffices them, there is always space 
 enough in it for all the furniture they possess, and 
 they pay the rent between them ; it is economical, 
 and it is necessary for grisettes to be economical ; 
 we must not confound them with kept women. 
 
 If you have had no relations with these dam- 
 sels, you have not penetrated into their dwellings, 
 which are, however, scarcely worth being seen. 
 A room occupied by two grisettes is a curious and 
 interesting sight for an observer. In the first place,
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 187 
 
 order is not, generally speaking, one of their habit- 
 ual qualities. Then they leave very early to go 
 to their shop and in the evening have a good deal 
 to think of. 
 
 Picture to yourself a small room decorated with 
 paper at thirteen sous a roll, a great part of which 
 is torn off or hanging from the walls ; no curtain 
 to the window, but a cord stretched across it on 
 which hangs a petticoat or a chemise and some 
 stockings, drying. 
 
 A couch, sometimes a bed with a sacking bot- 
 tom, also devoid of curtains, a bolster, but seldom 
 any pillows, which are luxuries ; a little walnut 
 table, of which the drawer will neither open nor 
 shut, into which has been thrust, however, a comb, 
 some pewter covers, a box of nightlights, some 
 letter paper, pens, salt, pepper, some strips of 
 embroidery, old gloves, knives, pomatum, tooth- 
 ache cure, a shoe brush, some corset patterns, some 
 English blacking and some burned almonds. 
 
 Four chairs with the seats entirely out, another 
 with a broken leg, and the other without a back. 
 Sometimes there is a commode, but then the draw- 
 ers will not lock ; it is not a piece of furniture that 
 inspires confidence. Ordinarily the two little draw- 
 ers on top are full of rags and crusts of stale bread ; 
 there is a gown and two handkerchiefs in the one 
 below ; the two others are empty. 
 
 The fireplace is always the best furnished spot 
 in the room ; on the hearth are cooking utensils,
 
 188 THE GRISETTES 
 
 a Dutch oven, water-boiler, stewpan, tin sauce- 
 pan, three or four chipped plates, all heaped 
 together in a corner near two fire-brands which 
 they sometimes blow into life, but which they 
 never consume. 
 
 On the mantelpiece are the ornaments. A little 
 mirror that shakes in its frame ; two glasses which 
 do not match, a candelabra, a flat candlestick, some 
 matches and also a flint, and two blue drinking- 
 glasses filled with flowers ; this latter is seldom 
 missing, for grisettes love flowers and do not stick 
 to the rarest kinds ; provided they have a stock 
 and some mignonette they are satisfied ; they thrust 
 the bouquets into their drinking-glasses, for they 
 must last for the whole week, and they smell good 
 even then. 
 
 Then there are several novels and some plays 
 lying on the chairs, the bed, or the commode ; 
 there are one or two pairs of old shoes thrown 
 negligently here and there, an old skirt, a night- 
 cap, a fichu, are littered at random on the furni- 
 ture ; some remnants of bread and cheese adorn 
 the table and some torn curl-papers are scattered 
 on the floor. A cat prowls about in the midst of 
 all this, sometimes sleeping on the hearth, some- 
 times on the bed, playing with a book or with the 
 piece of cheese ; the cat seems to be almost the 
 master of the house. 
 
 Don't imagine that this poorly furnished room 
 is a gloomy place ; in the morning they sing as
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 189 
 
 soon as they open their eyes. The first to awaken 
 pokes the other so she can no longer sleep ; the 
 latter mutters and scolds, saying, " Why don't you 
 let me sleep ? what's the matter with you?" 
 
 The other passes a feather over the sleeper's lips, 
 tickles her nose with a match, sings in her ears, 
 pushes her, punches her, and shrieks with laugh- 
 ter. She absolutely has to wake up. Then they 
 begin to tell each other all they have done the 
 evening before. 
 
 " Ernest was very nice last night ; he had on a 
 black stock which was very becoming to him. Do 
 you like black stocks ? I am crazy about them, 
 they give such a masculine look to a man." 
 
 " What I like are trousers with straps, they 
 show off a horseman who is well-made. I told 
 Polyte I wished he had some for Sundays." 
 
 " Say, the clerk at the shop opposite followed 
 me yesterday evening and spoke to me ; he in- 
 sisted on taking me to dinner, to the Opera. I 
 don't know where he wouldn't have taken me, if 
 I had listened to him." 
 
 " And you didn't listen to him ? " 
 
 " Certainly not, my dear, I am too fond of 
 Ernest. Goodness ! my dear Ernest, how much 
 I love you ! it is delirium rather than love ! And 
 then the clerk at the shop opposite is very ugly, 
 he squints and he dresses like a provincial. Are 
 you like me ? I am always attracted by dress." 
 
 " I wish Polyte would take me to Franconi's
 
 THE GRISETTES 
 
 this evening. It's my favorite place of amusement 
 there they look so fine in their tights." 
 
 " And then the horses ! " 
 
 " Oh, I don't look at the horses. Mercy ! it's 
 eight o'clock and we aren't dressed ! We are going 
 to have our dance at the shop." 
 
 " And they say there are some women fortunate 
 enough to be able to sleep till noon if they wish, 
 oh, when I think of such things as that ! Well, 
 I must put money in the savings bank, if I want 
 to become rich." 
 
 " Pshaw ! I'm not ambitious. I only hope my 
 gown will be dry for Sunday. Why, I can only 
 find one stocking and I had two here last night." 
 
 " Perhaps Moumoutte has taken it to play with." 
 
 " That horrid cat takes everything, she has swept 
 the room with it ; that's very amusing I must say. 
 Yesterday it was my collarette, today it is my stock- 
 ing. There ! do you see that she has ripped holes 
 in it with her claws." 
 
 " It's in the heel, you can stuff it into your shoe. 
 What are we going to have for breakfast, this 
 morning ? Would you like some Italian cheese ? " 
 
 "Goodness ! no, I'm tired of your Italian cheese. 
 I should like to eat some chocolate. Have you 
 any money ? " 
 
 " I have fifteen sous left." 
 
 " We can buy two little cakes for three sous at 
 the grocer's. We can munch it with a roll ; it is 
 very good for the stomach."
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 191 
 
 " Let us hurry, it is late." 
 
 " And our bed isn't made." 
 
 " So much the worse, we shall have to leave it 
 till night." 
 
 " And the room isn't put in order." 
 
 " It's good enough for the cat, we'll do it thor- 
 oughly on Sunday. I'll put it in order and you 
 can scrub it." 
 
 And these damsels went off humming a refrain 
 from the last new vaudeville at the Gymnase (the 
 grisettes are very fond of the Gymnase) ; they 
 went to their shop tripping along and laughing in 
 the faces of the passers-by if the latter seemed 
 comical to them. Grisettes are essentially mockers, 
 which does not prevent them from being also com- 
 passionate and generous; they will give their break- 
 fasts and all they have in their pockets to a poor 
 woman who tells them she has no bread for her 
 children, and during a whole week perhaps, instead 
 of munching chocolate, they will breakfast on bread 
 and water. But they will not be less cheerful, nor 
 more conceited. What they forget quickest is the 
 good they do. 
 
 Sunday is their gala day. In winter they must 
 go to the theatre, in summer they dance. When 
 they have a lover, he must necessarily take them 
 to a ball either < c intra " or " extra muros " ; when 
 they have none, they want to make conquests either 
 to amuse themselves or to show off to their girl 
 friends. But the greatest happiness a grisette can
 
 1 9 2 THE GRISETTES 
 
 experience is to make the conquest of an actor, for 
 in the eyes of these damsels, an actor is not an 
 ordinary man, a man like any other; he is a demi- 
 god or rather a deity altogether, and a girl will 
 excite the envy of her companions for a long time 
 should she be loved by a " Jean Shogard " or 
 "1'Homme a trois usages." 
 
 As for that, if you have known two or three 
 grisettes, you have known them all. There is very 
 little difference between those who frequent 1'Er- 
 mitage and those who prefer the Belleville moun- 
 tain ; between the young working girls of the 
 Faubourg Saint-Denis and those of the Rue Saint- 
 Antoine. Flirting and gourmandizing are the two 
 pivots on which they turn, attack their vanity or 
 their appetites and you will succeed in impressing 
 them ; be well-dressed and stuff them with cakes, 
 for they can rarely resist a young man who has kid 
 gloves and gives them buns. 
 
 Sometimes you will inspire a very sincere affec- 
 tion, will be loved to the point of distraction, and 
 you won't be able to get rid of your grisette. She 
 will sell her effects if you are out of money ; she 
 will be willing to spend Sunday with you in her 
 room when you cannot take her to the play. But 
 such cases are rare ; exceptions always prove the 
 rule.
 
 THE TWO HUSBANDS 
 
 " BLESSED are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the 
 kingdom of heaven." At each step that we take 
 along the highway of life it is easy for us to feel the 
 correctness of these words of Scripture. Yet, there 
 are many incredulous people, who are, I think, 
 extremely foolish; and those who are poor in spirit, 
 who neither doubt the fidelity of their wives nor 
 the devotion of their friends, are not, it seems to 
 me, so simple as people try to make them out. And 
 wherefore, then, should people be incredulous ? 
 Did Saint Thomas gain anything by it? And how 
 does it serve us to have immense libraries if people 
 wish to believe neither in prodigies, feats of strength, 
 nor in the miracles of the good old times ? If the 
 old chronicles are for them nothing but a tissue of 
 falsehoods ; if even the histories of our first kings 
 seem apocryphal ; if they doubt the deluge and 
 the rain of fire which destroyed Sodom and 
 Gomorrah. 
 
 According to the pyrrhonists, Xerxes did not 
 enter Greece with five million men, he had not con- 
 quered the sea ; Romulus and Remus were not 
 suckled by a wolf; CEdipus did not kill his father, 
 seeing that he did not rightly know who his parents 
 
 Vol. XX 193
 
 194 THE TWO HUSBANDS 
 
 were ; the Doge of Venice did not wed the Adri- 
 atic Sea by throwing his ring into its depths; 
 Sarah was not " one hundred years old " when she 
 made the conquest of Pharaoh of Egypt ; Mutius 
 Scaevola did not, in the presence of Porsenna, hold 
 his arm in a glowing brazier, his eye fixed proudly 
 on the king of the Tuscans, because a man whose 
 arm was roasting must involuntarily have made a 
 grimace ; Csesar's ghost did not appear to the sec- 
 ond Brutus ; Constantine the Great did not per- 
 ceive the " Labarum " in the air, nor did witches 
 ever ride to their sabbaths on a broom. 
 
 I have two friends, one of whom is a pyrrhon- 
 ist, always refusing to believe anything unless he 
 is furnished with proofs, and, as a natural conse- 
 quence, he is disenchanted as to the greater part 
 of the enjoyments of life, in which one must search 
 for proofs as little as possible. 
 
 The other, on the contrary, believes blindly in 
 everything; he believes in Circe's root, in the herb 
 of the fisher Glaucus, in Albert the Great's hand- 
 kerchief, Solomon's ring, in the golden branch, in 
 Fortunatus' purse, the philosopher's stone, the 
 fountain of youth, in dreams, in cards, in Mathieu 
 Laensberg,in Mademoiselle Lenormand; in every- 
 thing, in fact, up to the news of the day. 
 
 These gentlemen were both married, each had 
 a pretty wife; for one, the beauty was a positive 
 fact ; for the other, it was a source of pleasure. 
 But the one enjoyed his happiness peaceably, while
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 195 
 
 the other did all he possibly could to destroy his 
 own peace of mind. But one day this is what hap- 
 pened. 
 
 We were going to pass the day in the country, 
 an excursion that had long been planned ; but the 
 evening before the wife of my friend the pyrrho- 
 nist had spasms, a sense of suffocation and low 
 spirits. 
 
 The next day she declared herself very much 
 indisposed, and could not possibly leave her cham- 
 ber ; but she did not wish her husband to deprive 
 himself of any pleasure, and she entreated him to 
 repair to the appointed place. 
 
 By a rather singular chance, the wife of my 
 credulous friend had felt the same indisposition 
 and she had also remained at home, having invited 
 her husband to amuse himself without any uneasi- 
 ness as to her health, assuring him that her indis- 
 position would not have any serious results. 
 
 So here was I between my two married fellows, 
 one of whom laughed and sang with never a care, 
 while the other grumbled to himself, 
 
 " It is very odd that our wives should both be 
 taken ill exactly at the same time Hum! I 
 hardly believe in these sudden indispositions. They 
 perhaps mask some plan." 
 
 It was understood that we should go to Meu- 
 don, but hardly were we in the coach than my 
 pyrrhonist, impatient at our companion's good- 
 humor, said to him,
 
 196 THE TWO HUSBANDS 
 
 "Does it not seem singular to you that your 
 wife should be taken ill on this very day that we 
 were to go to Meudon ? " 
 
 " I see nothing extraordinary in that. Why 
 should not my wife be ill ? Isn't yours ill also ? " 
 
 " Yes or so she told me ! But I am not 
 obliged to believe it." 
 
 " I should never think of doubting anything my 
 wife told me." 
 
 Our cab was proceeding quietly along ; sud- 
 denly, our incredulous friend pulled the check- 
 string, stopped the coach, opened the door, and 
 alighted. 
 
 " I will rejoin you at Meudon," he said to us, 
 " I am rather uneasy about my wife's health, and 
 I must see how she is." 
 
 He had already got to some distance, we looked 
 at each other, my friend and I ; finally my com- 
 panion exclaimed, 
 
 " What he is doing now is very wrong ! to leave 
 us thus to return to his wife, who's asleep prob- 
 ably, and he'll go and wake her up." 
 
 I also thought he was wrong. No man who has 
 profited by his knowledge of life would conduct 
 himself in such a fashion. 
 
 " He is very stupid to be so suspicious. We 
 must revenge ourselves on him." 
 
 " I should like to very much ; but how can we 
 doit?" 
 
 " He will come to find us at Meudon; and we'll
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 197 
 
 go somewhere else ; our carriage is hired for the 
 day, and we can be driven wherever we wish. The 
 principal thing is that this confoundedly jealous 
 fellow should not find us." 
 
 " By Jove ! that will suit me." 
 
 " Where shall we go ? " 
 
 " No matter, provided that it be in a different 
 direction." 
 
 " Well, then, let us go to Vincennes." 
 
 " Vincennes will do, let's be off." 
 
 The order was given to the cabby ; he turned 
 back, and we were off for Vincennes, laughing 
 heartily at the figure our pyrrhonist would cut in 
 looking for us at Meudon. 
 
 We arrived at Vincennes, we went to breakfast 
 first of all, then we went on foot to walk about the 
 wood. 
 
 The day was fine, the country was delightful ; 
 while we were walking through the thickly wooded 
 paths, my good friend kept repeating, 
 
 " I have but one regret, and it is that my wife 
 is ill. She would have been so pleased to walk 
 about this pretty wood with us, to run and to roll 
 on the grass. Poor darling ! We will carry her 
 some macaroons, shall we not ? " 
 
 " We will carry her anything that you like." 
 
 " Oh, I know that she likes macaroons ; besides, 
 the slightest thing gives her pleasure ; she will 
 say, * My Bichet has thought of me/ She calls me 
 her < Bichet. ' "
 
 198 THE TWO HUSBANDS 
 
 " It's as good as any other name." 
 
 We were talking in this fashion when, in turn- 
 ing into a path, we found ourselves face to face with 
 a young couple who came from under the foliage. 
 My friend uttered an exclamation of surprise, as 
 he recognized his wife and her cousin. 
 
 The young lady seemed stunned for a moment, 
 but she immediately pulled herself together and 
 exclaimed, 
 
 " Oh, here you are, messieurs ! We have been 
 looking for you for an hour, my cousin and I. 
 I had said to my husband that I was sick, but that 
 was that I might surprise you. You did not ex- 
 pect to meet me, did you ? " 
 
 " By Jove, no ! but how have you guessed that 
 we were at Vincennes ? We should have gone to 
 Meudon." 
 
 " Did I not follow you with my cousin, and 
 when your carriage turned we also turned our cab- 
 riolet ; and while you were breakfasting for you 
 breakfasted, I wager ? " 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " Well, it was while you were doing so that we 
 came to await you in the wood." 
 
 " Oh, that's delightful. This is a pleasant sur- 
 prise. Kiss me, wife. How nice of you to come ! 
 Now we will amuse ourselves, eh, my dear ? " 
 
 " Yes, my Bichet." 
 
 " Look you, I am her Bichet." 
 
 And in fact we passed a very cheerful day ; every
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 199 
 
 one was in good-humor, beginning with "Bichet," 
 who was delighted at the surprise his wife had 
 arranged for him. While my friend the pyrrhon- 
 ist, who had found his wife in the society of a per- 
 son whom he did not love, had made a shocking 
 scene and after that day lived very uncomfortably 
 with her. 
 
 This is, therefore, a very righteous saying 
 " Beati pauperes spiritu ! "
 
 WAT TYLER 
 
 AN EPISODE IN ENGLISH HISTORY 
 
 IT was in the year 1382. England was then 
 enjoying profound peace and tranquillity, and, as 
 Bruyere has so well said, " When a people is peace- 
 ful, one cannot imagine how the peace can be 
 broken ; and when it is troubled, one cannot under- 
 stand how it can be restored." 
 
 But sometimes a very slight cause suffices to 
 arouse an incendiary feeling which produces general 
 disruption ; in this case, the insolence of a tax col- 
 lector produced a great popular uprising, of which 
 Great Britain has preserved the remembrance. 
 
 King Richard II had established a new tax 
 which affected everybody ; directly a person had 
 passed the age of adolescence and, in the eyes of 
 the law, could be called a man or a woman, capa- 
 ble of earning a living, he was obliged to pay this 
 tax. The impost probably made a portion of the 
 direct levies. 
 
 Tyler's wife he was a roofer on the estate of 
 the Earl of Dartford was at the time paying the 
 tax for her husband and herself and her servants, 
 for Wat was a master tyler, and lived very com- 
 fortably ; but she refused to pay for her daughter,
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 201 
 
 who was hardly twelve years old, asserting that the 
 law had no hold on her as yet and that until she 
 was a woman she was not subject to the tax and 
 could breathe without paying it. The collector of 
 this tax was a wicked, brutal man, who liked to 
 vex the unfortunate and cause tears to flow, and 
 was always insensible to the prayers and supplica- 
 tions of the poor and indigent. 
 
 He was quite put out when those of whom he 
 claimed the tax had their money all ready to give 
 him ; for then he had no cause to molest them, 
 no threats to offer, no prayers to repulse, he was 
 obliged to depart without seeing them shed tears 
 and he was unsatisfied. 
 
 A certain author has said, " Each one takes his 
 pleasure where he finds it," but there are unfortu- 
 nately too many men whose pleasures are ungen- 
 erous. Tyler's wife was of a rather unaccommo- 
 dating humor ; she paid the collector and was 
 showing him to the door when the latter perceived 
 little Betsy, the tyler's daughter. This charming 
 child was but twelve years old ; but she was tall 
 of her age, and might have been, from her looks, 
 over fifteen years old. Picture to yourself a pretty, 
 fair head, a pink and white complexion, blue eyes, 
 soft and gentle in their expression, and teeth like 
 pearls. Such was this young girl. She was an 
 ideal of English beauty; she was one of those types 
 which one sees and loves to dwell on when one 
 stands before a portrait by Court or Lawrence.
 
 202 WAT TYLER 
 
 He stopped, looked at Betsy, and asserted that 
 they had not done with him as they had not paid 
 for her. 
 
 " She is still but a child," said the mother, smil- 
 ing at Betsy. 
 
 " Oh, she is quite a woman," answered the col- 
 lector, and immediately with a ferocious smile he 
 took her arm to draw her towards him. But the 
 mother darted between the collector and her daugh- 
 ter and with a despairing cry said to him in a tone 
 that came from her heart, 
 
 " Ah, you will not offer the slightest indignity 
 to my daughter." 
 
 Regardless of the mother's prayer, and of the 
 tears which filled the young girl's eyes, the pitiless 
 man again seized the child, when a hand, stronger 
 than that of a woman, struck him and hurled him 
 to the floor. 
 
 Tyler had been at work roofing a neighboring 
 house, but he had heard his wife's shout and his 
 daughter's supplications ; quick as lightning he 
 had arrived on the scene to protect them against 
 the violence of the collector. The latter, furious 
 at having been thrown to the ground, rose and 
 struck at Tyler with the weapon he carried. The 
 roofer avoided the blow and seizing one of his 
 tools broke the collector's head. 
 
 The neighborhood soon learned of this event. 
 The people praised Tyler's courage and swore to 
 defend him, and to make common cause with him.
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 203 
 
 From this time on, Wat the Tyler saw the num- 
 ber of his defenders and partisans increase, until 
 within a few days he found himself at the head of 
 an army of more than a hundred thousand men 
 who recognized him as their chief and swore death 
 to all the tax-collectors and minions of the law ; in 
 fact, the turbulence was so great that any one who 
 could read or write or carried a writing in his pocket 
 was immediately roughly treated by this mob if 
 he fell into their hands. This was carrying resent- 
 ment rather far ; but a man is rarely just in his 
 moments of anger, and how can a mob of irritated 
 men be expected to listen to reason ? This is why 
 it is dangerous to irritate the masses. 
 
 The king having been informed of these events, 
 in the expectation that these furious men would 
 spread sedition on their way, wanted to go to meet 
 them himself that he might come to an under- 
 standing with Tyler. The archbishop of Canter- 
 bury turned Richard from his design, telling him 
 that a great monarch "should not compromise 
 with factious villains." 
 
 The rebels, on being informed of the arch- 
 bishop's conduct, swore that he should be punished, 
 and they marched on London. In vain the lord 
 mayor endeavored to close the gates against them ; 
 Tyler led them, Tyler was invincible, and besides 
 the people of London welcomed the rebels with 
 confidence, fo' they shared their hatred of the tax 
 and its collectors. Besides, Tyler and those around
 
 204 WAT TYLER 
 
 him permitted no pillage ; on the contrary, they 
 put to death those among them whom they found 
 guilty of the slightest infraction of their orders. 
 
 After burning the Duke of Lancaster's palace, 
 the finest building in London, Tyler, fearing that 
 it might be suspected that their object was pillage, 
 published it abroad that he had forbidden, under 
 penalty of death, any one to appropriate the slight- 
 est thing taken from the palace and that the im- 
 mense quantity of silver found there would be 
 broken and thrown into the Thames. 
 
 The rebels would have destroyed the Tower of 
 London also had not the king agreed to meet them 
 in person and listen to their propositions ; but 
 when this prince appeared, the door of the Tower 
 had been opened and Tyler and his people entered, 
 mingled with guards and the king's suite. 
 
 The garrison of this fortress consisted of notmore 
 than a dozen men, and was composed of men-at- 
 arms and archers ; they dared undertake nothing 
 against Tyler's troops, who came and went freely 
 everywhere; but these rebels, who up to this time 
 had kept themselves in leash; these men who in 
 presenting themselves as redressers of wrongs, as 
 vengers of tyranny, should have guarded against 
 becoming tyrants themselves, soon lost all restraint 
 and were guilty of the greatest excesses. Thus is 
 it true that in revolutions passion mingles with 
 politics, and what began in zeal for one's country 
 ends in zeal for one's self.
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 205 
 
 The archbishop of Canterbury was discovered 
 in a remote chapel at his prayers ; the rebels led 
 him to the platform of the Tower and there put 
 him to death. The grand treasurer and the king's 
 confessor submitted to the same fate. 
 
 Tyler's army extended their cruelties to for- 
 eigners and to all the Flemish ; and in order to 
 assure himself that they were Flemish, Tyler made 
 those he suspected of being so pronounce two words 
 in English which had a great resemblance to two 
 Flemish words. They had the same meaning but 
 a rather different sound, which made it extremely 
 difficult for the Flemish to pronounce them exactly 
 like the English. These two words in English 
 were " bread " and " cheese," and in Flemish, 
 " brod " and " kase." If they were not pronounced 
 according to the rebels' ideas, Tyler tore off the 
 cap of the man who was speaking and he was 
 turned over to the executioners. 
 
 Certainly, bread and cheese here played an ugly 
 part and one for which it was not intended. 
 
 However, the king had had some interviews 
 with the rebels and had in vain begged them to 
 lay down their arms ; Tyler refused to do so and 
 insisted on several points to which Richard could 
 not agree. The roofer wanted the king to give 
 him license to kill all the tax-collectors. He had 
 even sworn that there should be no more of them 
 in England than the ones already established. Wat 
 Tyler had become a despot in his turn. Finally
 
 206 WAT TYLER 
 
 another interview was accorded by the king to the 
 chief of the rebels. The latter had established 
 themselves in a vast plain, where Tyler's whole 
 army was gathered. 
 
 The roofer was on horseback when he advanced 
 towards the king, and he drew so near that prince 
 that his horse's head brushed that of Richard's 
 richly caparisoned steed. 
 
 " Sire," said Tyler, " do you see all those peo- 
 ple down there," and the roofer pointed to his 
 army, which lay at a little distance. 
 
 "Yes, of course," said Richard, "I see your 
 friends who are also my subjects what is your 
 object ? What do you want ? " 
 
 " All these people are at my orders, they have 
 sworn to be devoted to me till death, and to do 
 all that I command them." 
 
 Richard made no answer, but his face expressed 
 not the slightest emotion, he listened calmly to 
 Tyler, who resumed, 
 
 " I declare, sire, that we will not disband until 
 you have given us the charters we demand." 
 
 The king was about to make Tyler understand 
 that he was willing to render justice to all his sub- 
 jects, when Tyler took offence that Sir John New- 
 ton, who carried the king's sword, was on horse- 
 back in his monarch's presence ; he called him 
 traitor, and threatened him with his poniard. The 
 knight immediately drew his own weapon and was 
 preparing to use it when the king stopped him and
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 207 
 
 ordered him to dismount and to give his poniard 
 to Tyler. The roofer was not satisfied with this 
 mark of condescension, he wanted also to have the 
 sword which Sir John was carrying, and he dared 
 to put his hand on it. 
 
 " This is the king's sword," exclaimed Sir John 
 Newton, " you are not worthy to touch it ; and if 
 we were alone you would not dare to renew your 
 demand." 
 
 " I should not dare," said Tyler, furiously, " I 
 dare much further than that, for I swear before your 
 king and master not to eat until I have cut off your 
 head." 
 
 As he said these words, the roofer prepared to 
 cast himself on the knight, when he saw the lord 
 mayor of London come up, followed by a great 
 number of gentlemen and squires, who, alarmed at 
 the position of the monarch, came to take him 
 away by main force. 
 
 " Sire," cried the lord mayor, " it will be as 
 shameful as unprecedented to allow so valiant a 
 knight to be assassinated in his lord's presence. 
 Permit me to punish this insolent rebel." 
 
 The king signed to the lord mayor to arrest the 
 guilty man, but before they had time to reach him 
 Tyler had plunged his poniard into Sir John New- 
 ton's breast ; but almost at the same moment the 
 lord mayor's mace-bearer struck him on the head 
 and the chief of the rebels fell from his horse dead, 
 at the feet of his victim.
 
 208 WAT TYLER 
 
 The multitudinous army of the roofer rent the 
 air with their shouts. Richard, seeing them ready 
 to launch a flight of arrows at his troops, put his 
 horse at a gallop and suddenly presen ted himself 
 to the rebels, saying to them, 
 
 " What are you going to do, my friends ? will 
 you kill your king to avenge the death of a man 
 who dishonored himself by a cowardly assassina- 
 tion ? Do better, take me for your chief, and 
 I promise to grant you everything that caused you 
 to take arms." 
 
 Struck by the noble hardihood of this young 
 prince (Richard was then only eighteen) and dis- 
 armed by his promises, the rebels instantly obeyed 
 him and returned to their provinces. 
 
 What will perhaps appear surprising is the fact 
 that the monarch kept his word, and rejected with 
 a kind of indignation the advice given him by his 
 courtiers to have some of the rebels, at least, put 
 to death to frighten those who might be tempted 
 to imitate them. 
 
 Thus died Wat the Tyler, whose political career 
 was short. He began by an act of justice and 
 ended by himself committing an act of cowardly 
 tyranny. A moment's power sufficed him to do 
 that which he had blamed in others !
 
 A LITTLE INNOCENT GAME 
 LE PIED DE BGEUF 
 
 " THEY are just beginning a game of boston in 
 the drawing-room, and that will last for a century," 
 said pretty Adeline to her companions ; " Madame 
 de Bermont is going to play, and you know what 
 a time she is reflecting on every move she makes. 
 We have a couple of hours before us, let us do 
 something. Let us play some little games." 
 
 The little games are accepted ; the young girls 
 sit down and draw nearer together; the young 
 men ask permission to join in the innocent games 
 and it is accorded them ; they form a ring, but some 
 one is missing, a big, fair girl who is chatting with 
 an old gentleman in a corner of the drawing-room. 
 
 " Come along, Clarisse," the damsels call to her. 
 
 " No, I thank you, I don't care to play," an- 
 swers Mademoiselle Clarisse rather formally. Im- 
 mediately all the young girls look from one to the 
 other and smile mischievously. 
 
 " How ridiculous she is ! " 
 
 " Why, what a silly idea ; mademoiselle does 
 not wish to play little games this evening." 
 
 " Why, no, don't you see that she is talking 
 literature, poetry with that old gentleman ? She's 
 
 Vol. XX 209
 
 210 A LITTLE INNOCENT GAME 
 
 playing the savant. I am sure he is paying her 
 compliments. She is delighted. See what an air 
 of importance she is putting on, how she is com- 
 pressing her lips." 
 
 " She talk of literature ! it must be comical to 
 hear her she knows nothing at all about it. Just 
 imagine, the other day she wanted to insist to me 
 that the * Solitaire ' was by Lord Byron." 
 
 " That was delicious ! " 
 
 "Since her father has gone up a grade in his 
 office, she gives herself airs. Oh, it is too funny ! " 
 
 " She wants to learn geometry." 
 
 " She had much better practise on her piano, on 
 which she plays execrably." 
 
 " And what a squeaky voice she has." 
 
 " When she sings any one would think she was 
 howling." 
 
 " But come now, Clarisse ; do please come, dear- 
 est ! " resumed the damsel who spoke last. 
 
 " No, mesdemoiselles, I cannot ; mamma is put- 
 ting on her shawl. We must go to bed early, for 
 tomorrow we are going to the country house of 
 papa's chief of division." 
 
 All the young girls look at each other again, and 
 bite their lips so as not to laugh. At last they 
 remember they are going to play some little games. 
 After long deliberation it is agreed that they shall 
 play pied de boeuf, because that will not disturb 
 anything. They need only draw close together, 
 and then there are certain young men who will not
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 211 
 
 object to placing their hands on those of certain 
 young ladies. Sensitive hearts take advantage of 
 everything. 
 
 The hands are placed one on the other. 
 
 " Come now, monsieur," say they to a young 
 man, whose hand is the last in the pile, and who 
 will not withdraw it because he is so pleased to rest 
 it on the knee of one of Clarisse's friends. " It's 
 your turn to count ! What are you thinking of ? " 
 
 " Excuse me, I had forgotten how to play it." 
 
 They count, seven eight 
 
 " Nine ! " says a little girl of twelve, and the 
 poor little thing thinks she is going to snatch some- 
 thing, but she holds nothing, and she is very dis- 
 appointed. They begin again ; a pretty dark girl 
 finds herself the last and when she says, " Nine," 
 the young man's hand withdraws so slowly that 
 she has no trouble in seizing it. It is so sweet to 
 be caught by a pretty woman. 
 
 " I keep my pied de boeuf," says she with a tri- 
 umphant air. 
 
 " Really ! that is quite wrong," says the twelve- 
 year-old girl ; " monsieur was not so nice to me." 
 
 Patience, sweet child, you promise to be charm- 
 ing; in three or four more years you will be as 
 fortunate as any of them at little innocent games.
 
 THE HUSBANDS 
 
 BEAUMARCHAIS has somewhere remarked, " Of 
 all serious things, marriage is the most comical." 
 
 But Beaumarchais, who wished to pass for a wit, 
 often advanced paradoxical ideas which he could 
 support only by witticisms. 
 
 No, marriage is not a comical thing ; far from 
 it! Nor is the state of the married man always as 
 comfortable as might be imagined. It is not enough 
 for him that he finds his slippers and loving atten- 
 tions at his own fireside. And then, does he always 
 find these attentions ? Some husbands must have 
 a great many things to make them happy, and 
 others require so few ! But these few are often as 
 difficult to find as the many. 
 
 However, everybody gets married ; those who 
 are not yet so, will be married, that goes with- 
 out saying and God forbid that we should have 
 the slightest intention of penning a diatribe against 
 marriage in these pages. 
 
 Since the majority wish to taste the happiness 
 of married life, it is probable, in spite of all the 
 pleasantries launched against marriage that the 
 advantages outweigh the disagreeables. 
 
 And, then, where should we be if there were no
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 213 
 
 marriages. Were we not placed upon the earth to 
 live together ? Are we not here, before all things, 
 to love ? 
 
 Love is essential, doth sustain the mind ; 
 
 Without it, life were sad to humankind ! 
 
 And, having love, night is essential too, 
 
 In which to voice our feelings deep and true, 
 
 To the dear beings whom our hearts adore. 
 
 We re-awaken to recount once more 
 
 The tale that can't be told too oft, it seems ; 
 
 For when we sleep, it mingles in our dreams ! 
 
 It is Voltaire who says that, and I am altogether 
 of Voltaire's opinion. Then, since night is always 
 with us, it is indispensable that one should have 
 near him the tender being whom his heart adores. 
 
 Besides, this is also according to the teaching 
 of the apostles. So it is quite understood that it 
 is perfectly right to marry. But then, my married 
 men, why have you sometimes such a very peculiar 
 manner ? Why do you so often deny your position, 
 as you do in assuming the carriage, the flirtatious 
 glances and all the manners of a bachelor? Why, 
 when you have only just married, do you complain 
 of being so ? (married, of course, I mean ! ) 
 
 Why do you so soon cease to be lovers ? to be 
 gallant ? to be thoughtful and impressive in your 
 attentions ? to be amiable ? and often even to be 
 loving ? For all these things you cease to do, or 
 at any rate cease to do them so perfectly as you 
 did before your marriage.
 
 2i 4 THE HUSBANDS 
 
 Why, instead of avoiding quarrels by means of 
 a little patience or a desire to be obliging, do you 
 habituate yourself to disputing with your wife as 
 perfunctorily as you take your coffee ? 
 
 Why, when discontent seems to be about to slip 
 into your household, do you so quickly go to seek 
 your pleasure elsewhere, in place of making an 
 effort to bring it into your home ? Why are you 
 the first to do everything that is necessary to cause 
 your wife to cease to love you ? Why are you 
 simple enough to intimately associate with hand- 
 some bachelors or men of wit, with whom you can- 
 not compare favorably ? 
 
 Why are you foolish enough to give it about 
 everywhere that your wife has ceased to love you ? 
 It is as though you said, " The place is vacant, I 
 occupy it no longer ; anyone who likes can take it." 
 
 Why ! Why ! I wager you have already said, 
 " We don't do anything of the kind ! " Oh, you 
 don't do anything of the kind ! You are quite 
 sure ! but no one knows himself. 
 
 Would you like to know what you do ? Be 
 assured, I shall not overdraw my pictures, I shall 
 first depict the " Newly Married Man " ; or if you 
 like it better, " The Honeymoon." 
 
 In the first place, the newly married man gets 
 up very late ; he cannot tear himself from bed (of 
 course his wife does not get up either). If he is 
 a clerk, he says, 
 
 " By Jove ! I shall get to my ofHce too late to
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 215 
 
 sign the time card at the porter's, I would just as 
 soon not go at all." 
 
 If he is in trade, he says, 
 
 " The clerks are downstairs, they do not need 
 me to open the shop. We don't sell much of any- 
 thing in the morning; besides, it's quite necessary 
 that those young men should learn to depend on 
 themselves, I can't be incessantly watching them." 
 
 If he is in business, he says, 
 
 " I had an appointment for this morning. I 
 will go this evening ; that will come to the same 
 thing. After all, one can't kill one's self." 
 
 If he does nothing, but lives on his income, 
 then he says nothing; but when his wife asks him 
 the time, he stops her with a kiss, and answers, 
 
 "What does it matter to us ? There's nothing 
 to hurry us. Can't we do as we please ! " 
 
 Madame allows herself to be easily convinced ; 
 she thinks her husband is endowed with very per- 
 suasive eloquence, and congratulates herself on 
 having wedded a Mirabeau. 
 
 However, love does not suffice to sustain our 
 frail machine, and presently our married man con- 
 fesses that he is very hungry ; his wife says, 
 
 " Breakfast must be waiting for us, let us get up." 
 
 " Why should we get up ? " cries our husband. 
 " Let us breakfast in bed ; that will be nicer." 
 
 Madame has no objections to offer to this ar- 
 rangement; she smiles at her husband, whose ideas 
 are always very luxurious.
 
 2i6 THE HUSBANDS 
 
 They breakfast in bed. It may be very nice to 
 do so, but certainly it isn't at all convenient. But 
 no matter, love makes everything charming. 
 
 After breakfast they have so many things to say 
 to each other that they still linger. At length they 
 rise. It is almost dinner time, and they have done 
 nothing but laugh and fool and frolic, and both 
 think the day has passed very quickly. 
 
 Monsieur cannot refrain from looking into 
 madame's eyes, from putting his arm around her 
 waist, from pressing her hands; when he is not 
 doing some one of these things, he sighs and sulks, 
 until madame fears that it will go too far, and that 
 her husband will presently lose his wits for love 
 of her. 
 
 At dinner monsieur takes madame on his knee ; 
 he drinks from the glass from which she has drunk; 
 he eats of everything she has tasted. Indian curry 
 seems insipid to him if she has not touched it. 
 
 In the evening the new-married couple decide 
 to go to the play, but they cannot stay there to the 
 close; if they go to a party, monsieur is in great haste 
 to get back home. He signals his wife from afar, 
 and she makes him understand that for appear- 
 ances' sake they must not go yet. 
 
 But our newly married man cares not a fig for 
 appearances ; it little matters to him what people 
 say, or what they think. He wants to get his wife 
 away; he wants to find himself alone with her, for 
 it seems to him that such moments are rare.
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 217 
 
 At length he succeeds in inducing her to leave; 
 so eager is he that it is almost an elopement. He 
 puts her into a carriage and springs in after her, 
 impatiently thinking they will never reach home. 
 
 If this could last forever, how delightful it would 
 be! But the honeymoon wanes. 
 
 Would women always be to their husbands what 
 they are in the honeymoon? That is a grave ques- 
 tion, and I shall not seek a solution for it here, 
 because it is the married men with whom we are 
 occupied, and not with their better halves. I will 
 only say, in passing, that the women yield less 
 quickly than do we to the fullest emotions of pleas- 
 ure and happiness ; consequently, it is not the wife 
 who begins to change the honeymoon into the 
 declining moon. 
 
 Monsieur, who was so fond of lying in bed, be- 
 gins to get up earlier ; then he rises as early as he 
 did before he married ; and at last, he gets up much 
 earlier than when he was a bachelor. 
 
 It is now madame who wishes to detain him, 
 but he disengages himself from her restraining 
 arms, as he says, 
 
 " And how about the office. Devil take it ! I 
 don't want them to make unfavorable reports to 
 my chief and lose my place later on." Or else, 
 
 "I have an appointment this morning, very 
 early ; it's a very important matter, and I don't 
 want to miss my man. When one is eager to do 
 good business, one can't be idle."
 
 218 THE HUSBANDS 
 
 " But you haven't breakfasted," madame will 
 say sometimes, sighing ; " if you like, they can 
 bring your breakfast up to you in bed. That 
 won't take long." 
 
 " Oh, no ! What an idea ! to breakfast in bed ! 
 It's so comfortable, is that ! You upset your coffee, 
 drop your spoon, lose your bread it's wretched 
 to breakfast in bed. It's like those people who 
 prefer to dine on the grass and crick their backs 
 every time they pour out anything to drink. A 
 table, my dear, a table well laid, is absolutely neces- 
 sary for one to eat with comfort." 
 
 Madame murmurs, half pouting and half 
 annoyed, 
 
 " A short time back, however, nothing would 
 suit you but to breakfast in bed with me ; you did 
 not find it inconvenient then." 
 
 Monsieur's only answer is to jump out of bed; 
 he hastily dresses, hurriedly despatches his break- 
 fast, and goes out before his wife has finished her 
 morning toilet. 
 
 Madame does not think her husband so eloquent 
 as she formerly did. She makes the same reflec- 
 tions as did Gil Bias with the Archbishop of 
 Granada. 
 
 When monsieur comes in during the day, if his 
 wife approaches him and wants to play little tricks, 
 to laugh and sport, as during the first days of their 
 marriage, our married man answers brusquely, 
 
 " J-et me be quiet, my dearest, I have no time
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 219 
 
 to play. You are a darling ! but, if you want to 
 oblige me, don't prevent me from working." 
 
 Nor does monsieur ever dream of putting his 
 arm round madame's waist, nor of gazing contem- 
 platively into her eyes for minutes at a time. At 
 dinner he no longer takes her on his knees. And 
 when his wife offers him a morsel, from which she 
 has bitten, he does not seem to see it and continues 
 to eat what he has ; or else he shrugs his shoulders 
 and answers, 
 
 " Have done with your foolishness ! I do not 
 like that piece; besides, it is too fat" or " too 
 thin," as the case may be. 
 
 When madame puts on a new bonnet, and comes 
 to show herself in it to her husband, inquiring, 
 " What do you think of me ? Is it becoming ? " 
 our husband answers, " Very nice, very nice in- 
 deed ; you look charming." But he barely glances 
 at his wife, and the latter, who perceives that her 
 husband has not looked at her, departs very much 
 vexed by this indifference, and makes up her mind 
 not to try to please his taste in future. 
 
 When monsieur takes madame to a party, he 
 deposits her in a corner of the drawing-room, where 
 she may amuse herself as best she can. 
 
 For his part, he has done his duty, the rest is 
 no affair of his ; he goes into another room and 
 makes himself as amiable and polite as possible to 
 another woman perhaps to a good many other 
 women ; the essential thing to him is, that it be
 
 220 THE HUSBANDS 
 
 not his wife ; if he dances, he never does so with 
 her ; it is understood that it is bad form to dance 
 with one's wife. 
 
 Later on he seats himself at a card-table, and 
 there he quite forgets the time. He is enjoying 
 himself, and it does not occur to him that his wife 
 may be tired. The latter, however, comes to the 
 card-room and approaches her husband. 
 
 " My dear," she says to him sweetly, " shall we 
 not be thinking of going." 
 
 " Yes, yes in a minute* very soon now. Go 
 and dance a bit and then we'll go." 
 
 " I don't wish to dance any more ; I am tired." 
 
 " Well, sit down and rest, then." 
 
 Madame says no more, she goes away ; but she 
 comes back at the end of half an hour, to say to 
 her husband who is still playing, 
 
 " My dear, it is quite late. Are you coming ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes, in five minutes ; in less than five 
 minutes, I'll be with you." 
 
 The five minutes lengthen into another half 
 hour; finally, our married man leaves the card- 
 table, saying, 
 
 " How tiresome not to be able to do as one likes 
 without incessantly having some one after him 
 who obliges him to leave when he wishes to stay; 
 women have not the slightest consideration. Ah, 
 when I was a bachelor, I did as I liked. Idiot that 
 I was, to tie myself up like this ! Come along ! " 
 
 Monsieur takes madame's arm and conducts her
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK aai 
 
 on foot; and when she says to him, "Are we not 
 going to take a cab ? " he answers, "Why should 
 we ? it is not far ; besides, it will do us good to 
 walk a little." 
 
 Madame sighs again, she thinks that her hus- 
 band is quite changed, that he is no longer a Mira- 
 beau. In fact, he is changed. But can the follies 
 that signalize the honeymoon be expected to last ? 
 No, of course not. 
 
 But why commit these follies ? Why, gentle- 
 men, when you set up your own households, ac- 
 custom your wives to a way of living which it will 
 be difficult, nay, impossible for you to keep up ? 
 Why saturate them with pleasure, to put them on 
 half rations later on ? Why overwhelm them with 
 caresses, and then not even raise your eyes when 
 they are trying on new bonnets for your benefit ? 
 Why expend all your amiability in the first few 
 days, and never have a gallant word to say there- 
 after. Why ? Because it is not in man's nature 
 to know how to be moderate. 
 
 And all that I can say will not change the con- 
 duct of a married man during the first days of his 
 marriage. 
 
 We will now pass to the man who acts as nurse 
 for his children, for when people marry they have 
 children, which is all very right and proper. The 
 Scriptures say : " Increase and multiply," and, in 
 truth, when you marry you do not increase, but 
 you do multiply,
 
 222 THE HUSBANDS 
 
 But we are now talking of the married man who 
 has children, and who worships them ; who is 
 devoted to them, body and soul ; who bends in 
 ecstasy over their cradles ; who gives them pap, 
 after tasting it himself; who gets up in the night 
 to give them drink, and who takes them out walk- 
 ing on the boulevards or elsewhere. 
 
 Let us also walk on the boulevards, and we shall 
 soon meet a married man who acts as his children's 
 nurse. It is impossible not to recognize at a first 
 glance this type of paternal love, the father who 
 has abdicated all the other rights of a man to con- 
 secrate himself entirely to his little ones. 
 
 Take note of this gentleman in respectable bour- 
 geoise clothes ; although his attire is unpretentious 
 to a degree, he would be extremely neat had not 
 his children the habit of wiping their hands on his 
 coat, his trousers, in fact, on whatever part of his 
 apparel comes handiest to them ; so that it nearly 
 always bears traces of sweetmeats, butter, honey, 
 jam, or molasses. As you may imagine, it is diffi- 
 cult for him to preserve the appearance of being 
 neat and well-cared for. 
 
 Often, this gentleman also has some portion of 
 his raiment torn, he usually lacks several buttons, 
 and his hat nearly always bears marks of having 
 been repaired all of which is the result of the 
 artless abandon of his babes ; though it does not 
 prevent his eternally singing, 
 
 " Ah, what joy to be a father."
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 223 
 
 This gentleman has two sons, and their mamma 
 is expecting an addition to her nursery. The elder 
 is six years old, and the younger is in his fourth year. 
 The worthy man is a victim to the clamorous de- 
 sires of his two little boys from the time he wakes 
 up until he goes to bed. Madame insists that no 
 one must oppose Dodolphe and Polyte in any- 
 thing; she asserts that, in order to form the char- 
 acters of the children, they must be allowed to 
 follow their own wills. 
 
 Monsieur is too good a father to gainsay 
 madame, and instead of making his brats obey, it 
 is he who is incessantly at the orders of the two 
 imps. When Dodolphe and Polyte wish to go out 
 walking, our man hurriedly dons his frock-coat, puts 
 on his hat and starts off with his sons. Madame 
 shouts to him from the top of the stairs, 
 
 " Be careful about the carriages, and don't let 
 them walk too fast; don't let them walk in the mud. 
 If they tear their clothes, you'll have to answer for 
 it," with all the other warnings one gives to a 
 nursemaid ; to which monsieur replies with a sub- 
 missive expression, 
 
 " All right, my dear, I won't leave them for one 
 moment, I shall take good care of them, don't be 
 uneasy." 
 
 Monsieur directs his steps towards the boule- 
 vards, holding Polyte with one hand and Dodolphe 
 with the other. The walk begins peaceably enough ; 
 the children, satisfied with being out of doors, are
 
 224 THE HUSBANDS 
 
 contented to look about them and to force their 
 father to stop in front of every shop, which the 
 latter does with admirable self-abnegation. But 
 when they reach the Boulevard du Temple, Do- 
 dolphe emphasizes his wish to go to the right, to 
 see the waxworks ; Polyte evinces a keen desire 
 to turn to the left, to see the Chateau d'Eau. 
 
 Feeling himself drawn two ways, our masculine 
 nursemaid is very much distressed ; for the first 
 time he cannot please both his sons at one and the 
 same time, but he does what he can to make them 
 agree by saying to them, 
 
 " My dears, we can't go two ways at the same 
 time ; if it could be done, I should be glad to do 
 it; you know very well I never deny you any- 
 thing." 
 
 " I want to see the waxworks," says the biggest. 
 
 "I want to go to the chateau, dodo, dodo na!" 
 shrieks the youngest, stamping his feet with rage 
 like a grown person, to the admiration of his father. 
 
 " No, we'll go that way ; shan't we, papa ?" 
 
 " No, this way, pa-pa dear." 
 
 The two brats begin again to drag the author of 
 their being, each one attaching himself to a tail of 
 the paternal frock-coat. Our man is ready to cry ; 
 but at length he perceives that if he does not put 
 them in order, he will presently be reduced to a 
 waistcoat ; he plucks up courage, and speaking in 
 a gruff voice, he shouts, 
 
 " By Jove, messieurs, if you don't make an end
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 
 
 225 
 
 of this, I shall go off and leave you both here, 
 bless me ! and the policeman will come and take 
 you, bless me ! and arrest you like the bad people 
 yes, indeed, and a good thing too." 
 
 This threat has some effect ; the children are, 
 for a few moments, reduced to silence. 
 
 Delighted at having managed to make himself 
 obeyed, our man leads them with a certain kind 
 of pride, looking around him to enjoy the effect 
 that he must have produced upon the passers-by. 
 
 They go and look at the wax figures, but that 
 does not satisfy the two little boys, who want to go 
 in to see the show ; the papa consents, although 
 it is the fifteenth time the worthy man has seen 
 the waxworks and heard the explanations of the 
 scenes. Prizes of virtue have been accorded to 
 many people who would not have the strength to 
 submit to that test. 
 
 After contemplating these chaste figures, the 
 infants are athirst. Papa takes them into a cafe 
 and asks for some beer. They bring it ; the two 
 little boys taste it, make grimaces, and eject it in 
 a rather unconventional manner from their mouths. 
 
 " How nasty that is it isn't sweet a bit," they 
 remark. 
 
 Papa orders some lemonade or some sugared 
 water, which he gives to his children, and, although 
 he is not thirsty, himself swallows the whole of the 
 bottle of beer, in order that it may not be wasted ; 
 paternal love renders one capable of anything. 
 
 Vol. XX
 
 226 THE HUSBANDS 
 
 When they come out of the cafe the children 
 are eager to see Punch and Judy, they stop before 
 a canvas tent. This time they do not ask to go 
 inside ; they know already that what goes on at 
 the door is the most amusing. But as they are 
 behind some soldiers, nurses, and idlers of all kinds, 
 in jackets, in blouses and even coats, who also 
 come to look at Punch, they begin to shout, 
 
 " Papa, carry me take me up in your arms." 
 
 Our man stoops, puts an arm round each of the 
 cherubs and lifts them as high as his shoulders. 
 Paternity is not all roses. 
 
 So this dear gentleman whose sight is obscured 
 by his youngsters' velveteens is, for all that, obliged 
 to explain the spectacle, and to answer the ques- 
 tions which the latter incessantly address to him. 
 
 " Papa, who is that ugly man there, the one who 
 shakes his head and wants to beat Punch ? " 
 
 " That's the magistrate, my dear." 
 
 " Why, he has two big horns on his head, and 
 a red tail." 
 
 " If he has a red tail, it can't be the magistrate 
 it is the devil, my boys." 
 
 " Papa, why does the devil want to beat Punch ? " 
 
 " My dear, it is probably because Punch hasn't 
 been good, he has perhaps refused to eat his soup, 
 or he did not want to learn the fable of the fox and 
 the crow." 
 
 " Does the devil teach Punch his fables, then, 
 papa ? is he his schoolmaster ? "

 
 he children 
 
 stop b< 
 
 t ask to go 
 
 goes c 
 But 
 ilers of all 
 
 'apa., 
 
 >bscurcd 
 
 by his 
 t6 t 
 tier? 
 
 a tc 
 
 " ' rate 
 
 "P 
 
 " Papa, carry me take me up in your arms." 
 PHOTOGRAVURE FROM ORIGINAL DRAWING BY WILLIAM GLACKENS.
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 227 
 
 The papa, dumfounded at the profundity of this 
 reflection on the part of Dodolphe, who is but six 
 years old, glances at the faces of the persons around 
 him to see if they reflect the admiration which he 
 feels for his son at this moment ; but, perceiving 
 that no one is taking any notice of him, our man 
 decides on answering in a loud tone so as to attract 
 the attention of the crowd. 
 
 " My dear Dolphe, the devil is not a school- 
 master ; it would certainly be erroneous to attribute 
 those functions to him those functions especially 
 as those functions " 
 
 Here the papa, at a loss what to say next, begins 
 to cough as if he had swallowed a fish bone, after 
 which he resumes, 
 
 " But at all epochs he interferes is interfering, 
 to punish little rascals who are not good. This 
 was what I wanted to make you understand just 
 now in employing a metaphorical figure hum 
 hum!" 
 
 " Papa, who's this man in a long black gown, 
 with flour on his hair, who comes in as the devil 
 goes out and who is disputing with Punch ? " 
 
 " Oh, this time it is the magistrate." 
 
 " What is a magistrate, papa ? " 
 
 " Why, he is a man who is appointed to see that 
 peace and order are kept, my dear." 
 
 " Then, why is he disputing with Punch and 
 beating him with a stick ? " 
 
 A new access of admiration on the part of papa,
 
 228 THE HUSBANDS 
 
 who fondly imagines he is carrying an embryo 
 Voltaire on his shoulders. 
 
 " Why, my boy, it is probably because Punch 
 has refused to pay his taxes, or has put flower-pots 
 
 on his window-sills, contrary to the orders of the 
 
 i > 
 police. 
 
 " Oh, oh, the magistrate has killed Punch -" 
 
 " That is a proof of divine justice, my child, 
 which decrees that sooner or later those who do 
 wrong shall receive punishment for their misdeeds." 
 
 " Oh, no ; Punch gets up again, he has killed 
 the magistrate." 
 
 " Probably the magistrate had two weights and 
 two measures, and Providence willed that he should 
 be punished by means of Punch." 
 
 "Papa, papa! the magistrate is not dead he's 
 taking his stick again ; there, he's killed Punch ! " 
 
 "Then Punch is decidedly the miscreant; he has 
 perhaps assaulted a policeman." 
 
 " Papa, papa, Punch is not dead he's got 
 the stick again now, and is killing the magistrate. 
 Oh, how he is thwacking him." 
 
 Papa begins to find it difficult to explain to his 
 infants the moral of the play enacted by the marion- 
 ettes; but at this moment he is taken with sneez- 
 ing, which extracts him from one dilemma and 
 plunges him into another ; for in sneezing one's 
 primary need is to use one's pocket-handkerchief for 
 the purpose for which it is intended, particularly 
 is this the case when the individual is addicted to
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 229 
 
 the use of snuff. Our man, having sneezed, would 
 have given the whole world to be able to get at 
 his handkerchief; but how can he put his hand in 
 his pocket with a child on each arm ? 
 
 The parent of Adolphe and Hippolyte decides 
 to omit the ceremony with the handkerchief, as the 
 only possible course in his present circumstances. 
 
 Soon a dispute arises on the shoulders of the 
 married man, Messieurs Dodolphe and Polyte 
 both snatch at a stick of barley sugar; shouts and 
 slaps are the outcome of the dispute. Vainly does 
 the papa utter these words, 
 
 "Well, messieurs, will you have done up there? 
 Do you think I am holding you up to fight in 
 the air?" 
 
 " He took my sucker." 
 
 " He's a greedy thing." 
 
 " And he wanted to eat it all." 
 
 " Don't believe him, papa ; I broke the piece 
 in two, and gave him half." 
 
 " Papa, he kept the longest bit." 
 
 " That isn't true he says that because he has 
 gobbled up half his already." 
 
 To put an end to the quarrel, our man adopts 
 the wise course of placing his two sons on the 
 ground. 
 
 Then the latter howl louder than before, and 
 want to see Punch again, who is fighting now with 
 the cat, which has replaced the magistrate and the 
 devil.
 
 230 THE HUSBANDS 
 
 But papa, tired of the scene, feels no desire to 
 mount his darlings on his shoulders again ; he leads 
 them off, and, to calm the anguish of their disap- 
 pointment, he buys them gingerbread, buns, apples, 
 tablets cf chocolate and also treats them to cocoa 
 to drink. 
 
 Monsieur Dodolphe, who is the elder, does not 
 always remain quietly with his papa, but at every 
 turn leaves the author of his being to go and look 
 at an image or watch a game of tops or marbles. 
 Sometimes, little Polyte also wants to do the same 
 as his brother. Then the unhappy parent is in a 
 peck of trouble ; obliged to hurry after both young- 
 sters, who have scampered in different directions, 
 he bumps into and jostles the passers-by, receives 
 abuse from some, digs with the elbow from others ; 
 but he pays no attention to this, only too happy 
 if, after putting himself into a perspiration, he 
 manages to catch both fugitives, and lead them 
 along with him. 
 
 Presently he notices that his eldest son has his 
 nose grazed and one of his eyes almost black, 
 although usually they are blue ; that M. Polyte, 
 the younger, has lost quite a good-sized piece out 
 of his jacket, and that his trousers are torn at the 
 knee. 
 
 " What does this mean ? " cries the agonized 
 father, " I haven't let you out of my sight for a 
 moment, and here you are with torn clothes and 
 bruises ! "
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 231 
 
 " Papa, a big boy who was playing marbles 
 punched me in the eye, because he said I had 
 walked on his game and prevented him from win- 
 ning." 
 
 " Papa, there was an old woman with a dog ; and 
 I wanted to pet him, and he jumped on me and 
 tore a piece out of my jacket, and I ran away from 
 him and fell down and tore my trousers." 
 
 " Well, this is nice ! we shall have a pleasant 
 reception ! What will your mother say to me ? 
 You little devils, I can never take you back fit to 
 be seen." 
 
 " Papa, carry us." 
 
 " Papa, carry me ! " 
 
 " Confound it ! no ! The idea ! you are going 
 to walk now, my fine fellows ; I carried you long 
 enough in front of the Punch and Judy show. 
 Besides, you must not ask me to bring you out 
 walking if you continually ask me to carry you." 
 
 " Papa, are we very far from home ? " 
 
 " No, only about three hundred metres." 
 
 " What does that mean, papa ? " 
 
 " What does that mean ? why, it is a Greek 
 word, my boys, and when you learn Greek you 
 will know it as well as papa and mamma*" 
 
 " I'm so tired, oh, dear me ! " 
 
 " My feet hurt me." 
 
 " Come, Polyte, come, Dodolphe, show that you 
 are little men, don't be babies." 
 
 " Then sing us a song."
 
 232 THE HUSBANDS 
 
 " Oh, yes, papa. You promised to teach us 
 Marlborough." 
 
 " Well, so I will sing the song of Marlborough, 
 but you must repeat it after me. Pay strict atten- 
 tion now, and presently you shall sing it for 
 mamma, and it will please her." 
 
 " Yes, papa." 
 
 " Yes, dear papa." 
 
 Papa sings in a solemn tone, trying to walk in 
 time, and adopting the pronunciation required by 
 the lament. 
 
 " * Malbrouck s'en va-t-en guerre miroton, 
 toton, mirotaine,' now, messieurs." 
 
 Monsieur Dodolphe shouts it at the top of his 
 voice ; and little Polyte drones between his teeth 
 " Toton toton, tontaine toton." 
 
 Papa continues to drone, " Ne sais quand revi- 
 endra ne sais quand reviendra ! ' Now, boys ! " 
 
 " Oh, my stomach aches ! " 
 
 " I'm thirsty I am." 
 
 " No, you are not thirsty now ; you've had too 
 many things already. Come, stoutly now, ' Ne 
 sais quand reviendra ' 
 
 " ' Ne sais quand ' oh, papa, I want some 
 almond cake ! " 
 
 " Be quiet, you little glutton. Come along, 
 Polyte." 
 
 Little Polyte made a grimace, put his hand on 
 his little stomach, and confined himself to mur- 
 muring,
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 233 
 
 " ' Miroton, mirotaine toton ' I've got a 
 pain in my stomach ! c Mirotaine, toton.' " 
 
 Presently the two children refuse to walk, and 
 their wretched parent for a moment gives himself 
 up to despair ; then he convulsively grabs his two 
 brats and sets off again, exclaiming, 
 
 " By jingo ! what a walk ! oh, you little rascals ! " 
 
 " Papa," grumbles Dodolphe, " you're not sing- 
 ing sing Marlborough for us." 
 
 " Give me some peace, you little scoundrels ! " 
 
 " Oh, papa, you didn't say, l Miroton, miro- 
 taine.' Naughty, bad papa ! I'm going to cry if 
 you don't sing." 
 
 " Good-for-nothing boy there there, don't 
 cry. You'll wear me all out, but all right ! * II 
 reviendra-z-a Paques miroton, mirotaine il 
 reviendra-z-a Paques, ou a la Trinite." 
 
 At last the wretched man gets home and there 
 he is scolded roundly by his wife for having per- 
 mitted the children to tear their clothes and get 
 hurt. 
 
 It is quite natural to love one's children, nor is 
 there the slightest harm in taking them to walk ; 
 but when a married man takes upon himself the 
 precise duties of a nursemaid, he becomes ridicu- 
 lous even in his wife's eyes, and that is very dan- 
 gerous. A woman, as a general thing, only keeps 
 her love for her husband so long as she fancies him 
 superior to herself, and the ridiculous kills all idea 
 of superiority.
 
 234 THE HUSBANDS 
 
 Then there is the husband who takes his wife 
 out walking. 
 
 It is three o'clock, they should have gone out 
 at one ; but monsieur did not know if he should 
 or should not shave, if he should wear a coat or 
 a frock-coat, if he should put on a waistcoat with 
 a rolling collar or a plain one all this had taken 
 until three o'clock. 
 
 Then monsieur is ready ; he goes down first, 
 swaggering, looking at himself, highly pleased with 
 his get-up. 
 
 Madame not reaching the foot of the staircase 
 as soon as he, monsieur turns, stamps his foot im- 
 patiently, and calls up to her, 
 
 " Well, are we never going to get out today ? " 
 
 " Here I am, I was looking for my gloves." 
 
 " That's all very well ; first it's gloves, then it's 
 a handkerchief. I should have been quite sur- 
 prised if, at the last moment, you had not forgotten 
 something." 
 
 Madame comes at last and takes monsieur's 
 arm, still putting on her gloves. The gentleman 
 says in a low tone, 
 
 " Queer manners to put on one's gloves in the 
 street." 
 
 " My dear, you hurried me so." 
 
 " What, I hurried you ? why, you wanted to go 
 out two hours ago, and kept grumbling because 
 I was not dressed. A pretty thing to say I hurried 
 you ! Which way shall we go ? "
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 235 
 
 " It is all the same to me." 
 
 "And to me also." 
 
 " I will go wherever you like." 
 
 " We must decide, however, and not stand here 
 in the middle of the street like a couple of idiots. 
 I don't know of anything more annoying than a 
 woman who always answers, ' It is all the same to 
 me ! ' " 
 
 " Oh, well, my dear, let us go to the Tuileries." 
 
 So they set off walking. Monsieur looks at 
 the ladies as they pass or thinks about his business. 
 They do not speak a word. Sometimes, in pass- 
 ing a milliner's or draper's shop, madame ex- 
 claims, 
 
 " Oh, what a pretty shawl ! What a sweet pat- 
 tern for a dress ! What a love of a bonnet ! " 
 
 Monsieur does not hear, or he makes a pretence 
 of not hearing ; or, as his only answer, he makes 
 a little mumbling sound such as, "Hum um 
 um um yes"; but he is very careful not to 
 stop in front of the shops. 
 
 They reach the Tuileries. They walk about 
 here and there, up and down, and do not exchange 
 a word ; only monsieur yawns from time to time, 
 or breathes as though he were suffocating. 
 
 In the middle of a path where there is not a sin- 
 gle person, monsieur suddenly exclaims, 
 
 " Well, I must say it is amusing to walk about 
 here ! " 
 
 " Well, why not go somewhere else ? "
 
 236 THE HUSBANDS 
 
 " Why, there was no need of coming to the 
 Tuileries." 
 
 " But, then, you wouldn't say where you wanted 
 to go." 
 
 " That's always the way ; you chose this place 
 because you know that there is no walk that I dis- 
 like more." 
 
 " Oh, directly you go out with me, you are bored ; 
 whether it is this neighborhood or any other, it is 
 all the same thing." 
 
 " Come, that's right more reproaches ; it's 
 always the same way. But do you really think it 
 agreeable to walk about in the midst of this crowd, 
 of these children who are always rolling their hoops 
 or balls against one's legs ? and to swallow all this 
 dust does this amuse you?" 
 
 " If you were to speak to me, I shouldn't mind 
 it; but you never have a word to say to me." 
 
 " My dearest, when people are incessantly to- 
 gether, they can't always find subjects of conver- 
 sation." 
 
 "If you were with another woman, you would 
 be as amiable, as pleasing as possible." 
 
 "She would not say bitter, sharp things to me, 
 she would not incessantly jaw at me." 
 
 "If one only reproaches one's husband with 
 looking as if he were bored, one is 'jawing' him ! " 
 
 " Will you have done ? " 
 
 " You think you can prevent me from speaking 
 now, do you ? "
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 237 
 
 " Shout a little louder, so as to make everybody 
 who passes look at us that will be the last straw." 
 
 " I shall shout if I wish. Do you suppose peo- 
 ple are noticing us ? you always think everybody 
 is looking at you." 
 
 " If you keep on, I shall let go of your arm." 
 
 " Let go of it it is all the same to me." 
 
 Monsieur half stops, but he thinks better of it 
 and does not leave madame's arm, and they finish 
 their walk without breathing another word. 
 
 Then there is the husband who is always paying 
 his wife little attentions. 
 
 You will recognize him immediately ; when they 
 are out walking he gives his hand to the child, if 
 there is one with them ; he regulates his steps by 
 those of his wife, he swings and twists himself al- 
 most as she does ; he holds the umbrella, he holds 
 the bag, when madame has one ; and he looks at 
 her every two minutes anxiously and even lovingly, 
 as he says, softly, 
 
 " Tell me when you are tired, darling ! or if you 
 want to turn back, my angel. Would you like 
 to have a cab, love ? Shall we cross over ? 
 Darling, I'm afraid you'll have the sun in your 
 eyes. Take care! there is a gutter. We will 
 go slower if you like." 
 
 And a great many other little phrases of this 
 kind, which usually obtain no answer except an 
 impatient movement or a very perceptible shrug- 
 ging of the shoulders.
 
 238 THE HUSBANDS 
 
 When this gentleman takes his wife to the play, 
 he makes her try five or six places before he allows 
 her to fix on one. 
 
 " My dear, you won't be comfortable here, there 
 are several big bonnets in front of you ; let us go 
 over there, you will see better. The seat is hard 
 here, let us go to the other side. I don't want 
 you to stay here, there's a draught from the back ; 
 you will take a fresh cold, it is very dangerous. 
 Let us go elsewhere. Oh, there's a lady near us 
 who exhales a detestable odor of musk, it will give 
 you a nervous attack ; I can't let you stay there." 
 
 The poor woman, tired of thus peregrinating 
 about the theatre, at last clings to one place and 
 refuses to stir from it. 
 
 " This is comfortable enough," she says, " I shall 
 stay here, I'm tired of changing from place to 
 place." 
 
 "It was for your comfort that I did it. Do you 
 want a footstool ? " 
 
 "No " 
 
 " Boxkeeper, bring a footstool for madame. 
 Would you like a cushion under you ? " 
 
 " What should I want that for ? Am I a child ? " 
 
 " Boxkeeper, try to get a cushion for my wife. 
 Would you like me to close the window of the 
 box ?" 
 
 " Just as you like." 
 
 " Are you too warm ? " 
 
 " No."
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 239 
 
 " I will close it." 
 
 The play begins; madame would very much like 
 to listen to the actors, but in the midst of an inter- 
 esting scene, her husband says to her, 
 
 "You look pale ; you're not ill, are you ? " 
 
 "Me! not at all." 
 
 " Do you feel a pain somewhere ? " 
 
 " Why, good heavens ! no ; I have no pain any- 
 where. What an idea ! to want me to be sick." 
 
 " I don't want it, sweetheart, quite the contrary ; 
 but if you are at all unwell it would be much better 
 to tell me, and we will go ; you may be staying out 
 of consideration for me and that would be wrong." 
 
 " What I should like, and what would give me 
 very great pleasure, would be for you to let me 
 hear the play." 
 
 " I'm not preventing you from listening to the 
 play, it seems to me. But, all the same, it troubles 
 me to see you so pale as this." 
 
 When this gentleman dines in the city with his 
 wife, he never loses sight of her ; and, even if he 
 be at the other end of the table, he will not fail to 
 call to her, 
 
 " Don't eat that, darling, that won't do you any 
 good you know that anchovies don't agree with 
 you. Don't take any lobster, it is too indigestible 
 for you. If you take any salmon, you'll do very 
 wrong." 
 
 " Monsieur, I beg of you, don't pour out any 
 madeira for my wife, for it will make her ill ; I know
 
 2 4 o THE HUSBANDS 
 
 exactly what her digestion will stand. My dearest, 
 if you drink it, you will make trouble for me." 
 
 Madame, altogether impatient at the care her 
 husband takes of her health, makes a very pro- 
 nounced grimace and eats nothing at all, because 
 the vexation she experiences has taken away her 
 appetite. 
 
 Meantime, monsieur eats for four, and drinks 
 of all the wines. 
 
 Do they go to a ball, that is another story ; first 
 of all, monsieur inspects madame's toilet. 
 
 " That gown is cut too low, you will take cold ; 
 it is too tight, too, it must make you uncomfort- 
 able." 
 
 " I assure you, my dear, that my gown does not 
 incommode me in the least." 
 
 "Oh, women will never confess that any article 
 of dress is too tight ; but they often do themselves 
 immense injury by compressing their waists, which 
 sometimes results in serious illnesses. People very 
 often say, 'So-and-so has just died of consumption; 
 it is very singular, for she was so well-built, had 
 such a fresh complexion, one would never have 
 thought she would go into consumption.' But no 
 one ever imagines that, to make her waist small, 
 this lady had compressed her body and injured her 
 lungs." 
 
 " My dear, look here, I can pass my finger under 
 my belt ; that will show you that it is not too tight." 
 
 " Oh, yes, according to you, you can always do
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 241 
 
 that, because you hold your breath. My darling, 
 you will please me very much if you will put on 
 another dress. I shall be unhappy all the evening 
 if I see you at the ball with that dress on." 
 
 To make an end of this, madame consents to 
 put on a dress which does not please her half so 
 well. This little contrariety has already deprived 
 her of part of the pleasure she had promised her- 
 self and during the whole evening she thinks of 
 that gown which was so becoming to her and 
 which her husband has made her take off. 
 
 When they get to the ball, instead of leaving 
 his wife free to enjoy the dancing, and seeking on 
 his own behalf to get as much pleasure as possible, 
 our husband does not lose sight of his wife. Do 
 not imagine this is through jealousy, the attentive 
 husband is never jealous; he is persuaded that his 
 wife adores him, because she knows that she will 
 not find another like him so far as attention and 
 forethought go. 
 
 Here, as elsewhere, he evinces a touching solici- 
 tude. He walks up and down the drawing-room 
 where his wife is seated. Hardly has she danced 
 a contra-dance, when he comes up to her. 
 
 " You are very warm, darling." 
 
 " Why, no, not too warm." 
 
 " Oh, yes, you are very warm, are you going to 
 dance another quadrille ? " 
 
 " Certainly, I am engaged for it." 
 
 " I am sorry you should have rested." 
 
 Vol. XX
 
 242 THE HUSBANDS 
 
 After the following contra-dance, madame has 
 hardly been led to her place by her squire, when 
 her husband's face appears, and he places himself 
 beside her, like one of those shadows which, by 
 the illusion of dissolving views, one sees suddenly 
 spring up before one. 
 
 " How red you are, my pet," says our attentive 
 husband, with the uneasy look of a mother who 
 feels her infant's pulse and finds him in a fever. 
 Madame, who thinks this remark a trifle superflu- 
 ous, tries to smile as she answers, 
 
 " Is it surprising that one should have a color 
 after dancing ? " 
 
 " Yes, but I have never seen you so red as that." 
 
 Madame leans toward a woman seated near her, 
 and says to her, quite low, 
 
 " Have I such an extraordinary color ? Do I 
 look like a crab ? " 
 
 " Why, no ; you look very well, your husband 
 does not know what he is talking about." 
 
 Presently, a young man who has managed to 
 get some ices brings one to the attentive husband's 
 spouse ; the latter accepts it and is beginning to eat, 
 when her husband takes it from her, saying, 
 
 " Why, the idea, my darling ! you are not going 
 to eat that." 
 
 " And why not ? it is an ice." 
 
 " I can see that, and that is why I don't want 
 you to swallow a morsel ; you are too warm, it will 
 make you ill."
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 243 
 
 " But all these ladies have been dancing too, and 
 they are eating ices." 
 
 "These ladies can do as they wish, that has 
 nothing to do with me. But you are different, I 
 know your constitution. An ice ! oh, no that 
 will be an unpardonable imprudence. Would you 
 like some punch ? " 
 
 " You know well that I never drink punch, 
 monsieur, that I cannot bear it, while I am very 
 fond of ices." 
 
 " That makes no difference." 
 
 And monsieur sets to work on the ice meant 
 for his wife, and he walks up and down in front of 
 her enjoying it, and he is not ashamed to say, 
 
 " It is excellent, very well frozen." 
 
 A little later the orchestra plays the prelude of 
 one of Strauss' delightful waltzes. Madame is 
 passionately fond of waltzing, which she does very 
 gracefully and in good time. She accepts the arm 
 of a young gentleman who is said to be a very good 
 waltzer. They start off together, they have already 
 made the tour of the room and obtained the ap- 
 plause of the spectators, when our husband, per- 
 ceiving his wife in her progress, runs after her at 
 the risk of being knocked down by those who 
 are engaged in waltzing, and seizing her by the 
 arm obliges her and her partner to stop, and says 
 to her in his usually amiable manner, 
 
 " Why, what are you doing now ? What are 
 you thinking of? You to waltz ? but I am here,
 
 244 THE HUSBANDS 
 
 fortunately, to prevent you from doing anything 
 so foolish." 
 
 " Why, monsieur, you know very well that I 
 am quite fond of waltzing that it does not make 
 me dizzy." 
 
 "It does not make you dizzy, that is possible; 
 but it will do you a great deal of harm. You will be 
 ill to-morrow I have consulted several doctors ; 
 they tell me that waltzing is injurious to nervous 
 women, and you are extremely nervous, my 
 darling." 
 
 " A few turns only, monsieur, and then we will 
 stop," pleads the young gallant, addressing the 
 husband. 
 
 " Yes, only a few turns my dear," says madame 
 with a supplicating expression. 
 
 But monsieur is inexorable, he takes his wife by 
 the arm, leads her to her place, and throws over 
 her shoulders a pelisse, a mantle, anything that he 
 finds to his hand. 
 
 Madame is furious, but she does not dare to say 
 anything. People do not dispute in the presence 
 of company ; and besides, her husband has the 
 reputation of being so gallant a man, so assiduous 
 in his attentions to his wife, that people believe her 
 to be excessively happy. She tries to dissimulate 
 her weariness. 
 
 The hour for supper approaches ; she knows, 
 from the mistress of the house, that the ladies alone 
 will be seated at the table ; she may therefore eat
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 245 
 
 what she pleases without having to fear her hus- 
 band's observation. 
 
 She hopes to indemnify herself at supper for the 
 vexations of the evening, for she is very fond of 
 supping ; there are some ladies who are not averse 
 to that occupation. I see nothing wrong there ; on 
 the contrary, I have a great esteem for ladies who 
 are willing to admit that they eat like other mortals. 
 
 But, alas ! a quarter of an hour before supper 
 our husband arrives, holding on his arm his wife's 
 pelisse ; he throws it over her shoulders, saying, 
 
 "My love, there's a carriage below, waiting for 
 us." 
 
 " What ! you want to go already ? " 
 
 " Already ! it is quite late enough." 
 
 " But they are going to have supper in a 
 moment." 
 
 " That's exactly the reason I want to go ; else 
 you might allow yourself to be tempted to partake 
 of something, and it will do you no good to eat in 
 the evening, you, who are so delicate ! You know 
 very well you never take supper; nor I, either." 
 
 " But, monsieur, when one has passed a great 
 part of the night in dancing, it is not the same as 
 if one had gone to bed at eleven o'clock." 
 
 " Oh, it is all the same I don't want you to 
 eat any thing this evening; devil take it! we must 
 think of your precious health. Come, my dear- 
 est, the carriage is waiting for us." 
 
 Monsieur leads madame, who is fit to cry, and
 
 246 THE HUSBANDS 
 
 who returns home mentally vowing that hereafter 
 she will refuse to go out walking, or to a play, or 
 a ball, or to dine in the city. 
 
 Do you imagine a woman can be very happy 
 with such an over-attentive husband ? Fortunately 
 this species is rare. 
 
 The married man who pushes his attentions to 
 his better half so ridiculously far as the one I have 
 just depicted to you is a perfectly insupportable 
 being, who would bring about a nervous attack with 
 any woman who was the least bit susceptible to 
 such illness. And do you suppose it is from ex- 
 treme love for his wife that this gentleman so con- 
 ducts himself? If so, undeceive yourself. What 
 the fellow wants is that he shall be quoted as a 
 model for husbands ; as a man who worships his 
 wife, and has no thought but for her ; as a phoenix, 
 in short. 
 
 If he really loved his wife he would not be in- 
 cessantly after her, like the apothecaries after 
 M. de Pourceaugrac. I place such husbands in 
 the ranks of hypocrites. 
 
 We have also husbands who, before other people, 
 devour their wives with caresses ; who cannot be 
 near their better halves without fondly clasping 
 their waists. Occasionally one of these husbands 
 will go so far as to kiss his wife in public ; he will 
 touch her neck or her cheeks with his lips, or even 
 her mouth, in an apparent delirium of ecstacy, as if 
 he were kissing his wife for the first time.
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 247 
 
 While this is going on, just watch the expression 
 on the face of a third person, sometimes on the 
 faces of several third persons. One is always 
 tempted to say to the husband, 
 
 " Come, I am in the way here, I see, I will leave 
 you to yourselves." 
 
 And if one does depart and leave him alone 
 with his wife, the gentleman who seems to be 
 desirous of devouring her with kisses will be caught 
 in his own trap. 
 
 Apart from the consideration that, in conduct- 
 ing himself thus before everybody, he is totally 
 lacking in good breeding, in decency, in politeness, 
 and in the most simple good manners the mar- 
 ried man who is so demonstrative to his wife before 
 witnesses is usually very bad-tempered and some- 
 times even brutal at home. 
 
 Let us follow him there ; we shall have a change 
 of scene almost as complete as those at the opera. 
 
 " Why isn't breakfast ready ? " 
 
 This is monsieur's first question when he gets 
 up, and it is put in a very ill-tempered tone. 
 
 " Why, my dear, it isn't late." 
 
 " Not late ! What do you mean by not late ? 
 Suppose I want to breakfast earlier ! Suppose I am 
 hungry but they are such dawdlers here ! Why 
 have they made coffee ? I want chocolate." 
 
 " You should have told me, dear." 
 
 " You should have asked me." 
 
 " You usually take coffee."
 
 248 THE HUSBANDS 
 
 " That is why I want a change today. It would 
 not be much trouble for you to ask me what I 
 want. Who laid that fire ? It's very nice, very 
 pleasing they don't even know how to build a 
 fire here. What is the matter with this bread ? " 
 
 "It is oatmeal bread." 
 
 " I've told you before that I don't like oatmeal 
 bread. You've made it on purpose to vex me. 
 Some one rang the bell this morning, who was it ? " 
 
 " That fair young man who has been here twice 
 before to consult you as to whether he ought to 
 marry. You told me he bored you ; so this morn- 
 ing I sent him away, telling him you had already 
 gone out." 
 
 The husband almost jumps out of his chair and 
 thumps his knees angrily as he shouts, 
 
 " And who asked you to send that young man 
 away ? You're always doing something stupid ! 
 I wanted to speak to him particularly today. I had 
 some information to give him, and for you to tell 
 him I was not in ! I'll be hanged if they know 
 how to do anything here that will please me ! " 
 
 In his anger, monsieur fails to observe that he 
 is putting his elbow into his coffee cup ; the cup 
 crashes to the ground and the coffee soaks into his 
 dressing-gown ; this redoubles his exasperation. 
 
 " There's my dressing-gown spoiled now," he 
 shouts. " That is your fault, madame." 
 
 " How can it be my fault ? You need not have 
 upset your cup."
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 249 
 
 " There was no need of putting me out of tem- 
 per this morning." 
 
 " You are right, there was no need to do so, for 
 you woke up in a bad temper." 
 
 " Have you done with your stupid remarks ? 
 Take care ! don't push me too far." 
 
 " Good heavens ! you need not look so furious. 
 It's easy to be seen that we are alone." 
 
 " Will you keep still ? " 
 
 "In company, you devour me with caresses, so 
 that every one may think me very happy. Ah, if 
 they only knew how you treat me when we are 
 alone." ' 
 
 " Will you hold your tongue ? " grinding his 
 teeth. 
 
 " It is surprising how much those kisses, show- 
 ered on me before everybody, please me." 
 
 " If you don't have done, I'll throw my cup in 
 your face." 
 
 "You would be capable of it, you ugly wretch! " 
 
 " Oh, you call me a wretch ! there ! take that." 
 
 The cup flies over towards madame, who dodges 
 it by leaning forward ; but who does not always 
 escape the slap in the face that follows the cup. 
 
 While madame is crying, the bell is heard ; the 
 maid announces a visitor. Then monsieur says to 
 his wife, with a threatening look, 
 
 " I hope you are not going to cry before every- 
 body. Wipe your eyes quickly. If not, I shall 
 begin again when they are gone."
 
 250 THE HUSBANDS 
 
 The visitor enters. Monsieur has immediately 
 assumed a cheerful, pleasant expression, and a soft, 
 musical voice. The person who comes in says to 
 madame, 
 
 " How pale you are and your eyes are red. 
 Have you been ill ? " 
 
 Monsieur does not allow his wife to answer. 
 
 "Oh, that is nothing," he says airily. "She read 
 too late in bed last night and that has tired her 
 eyes. I often say to her, * My pet, you will ruin 
 your eyes by reading so far into the night' ; but she 
 won't listen to me, and then you see what hap- 
 pens the next morning she is pale and has red 
 eyes. But she has promised me to be more rea- 
 sonable." 
 
 And as he says this, our man goes up to his 
 wife and kisses her on the cheeks. 
 
 Of all vices, hypocrisy is the most disgusting ; 
 for those who practice it try to obtain credit for 
 virtues that they do not possess. The robber who 
 attacks you in the highway openly confesses that 
 he is a robber. The husband who caresses his 
 wife before everybody, and beats her in his home, 
 is more vicious than the robber I have just men- 
 tioned. 
 
 The wife who possesses such a husband, and 
 who remains faithful to her duties as a wife, deserves 
 that people should raise statues to her ; an altar, 
 an obelisque, a triumphal arch. 
 
 The married man who wears nightcaps does
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 251 
 
 himself the greatest wrong in his household, in 
 society, and in the profession which he has seen 
 fit to adopt. 
 
 The nightcap, vulgarly called the "extinguisher," 
 has two very grave faults, particularly for French- 
 men ; it makes a man look ugly and it makes him 
 look ridiculous. 
 
 If you are already ugly, what need is there of 
 your wearing anything on your head that accen- 
 tuates your plainness ? You are going to answer 
 me, "It doesn't matter before one's wife." 
 
 That is exactly where nearly all married men 
 are wrong, they are not spruce enough when alone 
 with their wives. If you would have these ladies 
 remain fond of you, at least make an effort to 
 please them. 
 
 You would not allow your mistress (if you have 
 one) to see you in a nightcap ; why, then, are you 
 so indifferent towards your wife as to allow her to 
 see you in that head-dress ? Is it because you 
 think your wife does not know how to judge what 
 is becoming or unbecoming to you as well as 
 another ? 
 
 But the greater part of these gentlemen allow 
 themselves, in their own homes, a disorder which 
 is by no means that of art. They seem to say to 
 themselves, 
 
 " Pshaw ! our wives will think us handsome 
 enough anyway." 
 
 " Vanitas vanitatum ! omnia vanitas."
 
 252 THE HUSBANDS 
 
 You are completely mistaken, gentlemen, these 
 ladies do not think you handsome enough anyway. 
 
 To return to nightcaps, proscribe them from 
 entering your dwelling, have no transactions with 
 them ; remember that this concerns your head, and 
 that if you once become accustomed to wearing 
 these things, people will imagine you to be sus- 
 ceptible of wearing some other things also. 
 
 And, then, what is the use of looking like a 
 simpleton ? 
 
 We now pass to the meddlesome husband. 
 
 One is born a meddler, as one is born a man of 
 genius, a mechanician, a musician, a poet, a cook- 
 shop keeper ; and the man who is meddlesome as a 
 bachelor will be still more so when he is married. 
 This information is for the benefit of the ladies. 
 
 It is very vexatious that the meddlesome man 
 cannot see himself, examine himself, to the benefit 
 of his household ; it is probable that would cure 
 him of his mania. 
 
 Certainly, one may be a meddler and yet be esti- 
 mable in everything else ; a meddlesome husband 
 may worship his wife and children, do his business 
 honorably, mount guard faithfully, and, in fact, 
 acquit himself creditably of all the duties society 
 imposes upon him. But in his household he will 
 be no less insupportable, annoying, tiresome. 
 
 The first thing in the morning the meddlesome 
 man finds a way of exercising his disagreeable 
 habit, even before he gets out of bed.
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 253 
 
 " Give me my handkerchief, wife, pass me my 
 handkerchief; it must be on the chair beside the 
 bed, near you." 
 
 Madame, still half asleep, stretches out her arm 
 and gives a handkerchief to her husband. 
 
 The latter is about to use it, but he stops, looks 
 at the handkerchief, and cries, 
 
 " This is not mine ; my handkerchiefs haven't 
 a colored border. This is yours." 
 
 " That's very likely, my dear." 
 
 " Yes, yes, that's yours. That is to say, your 
 handkerchiefs have a blue border, this is brown 
 what does that mean ? " 
 
 "It means that I also have some bordered with 
 brown, apparently." 
 
 " Oh, you have some like this ? and since when 
 have you had them ? " 
 
 " Since I bought them, of course." 
 
 " And when did you buy them." 
 
 " Good heavens ! I don't remember the exact 
 date now." 
 
 " That's singular ! you didn't tell me you had 
 bought any other handkerchiefs." 
 
 " I did not think it a matter of sufficient impor- 
 tance to make it necessary that I should impart it 
 to you. Can I no longer buy the slightest article 
 without asking your permission ? " 
 
 " I don't say that. But, of course, you can see 
 that I had reason to be astonished at seeing a hand- 
 kerchief with a brown border."
 
 254 THE HUSBANDS 
 
 Monsieur gets out of bed ; he looks for his 
 trousers, but cannot immediately find them ; he 
 gets impatient, and rings for the maid. The maid 
 comes, and discovers her master in rather uncon- 
 ventional attire ; but maids are used to that sort 
 of thing, and it is probably not dangerous to their 
 virtue. 
 
 " Jeannette, where are my slippers ? I have been 
 looking for them for an hour." 
 
 The maid shows monsieur his slippers, placed 
 under the bed, behind a bedside table. 
 
 " There they are, monsieur ! " 
 
 " Oh, there they are ! But why did you put 
 them there ? Is that their usual place ? " 
 
 " Mercy, monsieur, I thought it would be just 
 as well to put them under the bed." 
 
 " Do I put them there of a morning ? I usually 
 put them under that armchair beside the fireplace. 
 You must never change the place. Another time, 
 be careful about that." 
 
 They dress, and breakfast is served. Madame 
 takes her coffee as she reads the paper. Monsieur 
 makes toast in front of the fire. Presently he 
 touches his wife's knee. 
 
 " Did you put another log on the fire yesterday 
 evening, after I went out ? " 
 
 "A log, my dear? What? What did you say ?" 
 
 "Why, I'm not talking Hebrew, am I? When 
 I went out yesterday, at nine o'clock, there were 
 still two logs on the fire, one large and one small ;
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 255 
 
 that was quite sufficient for the rest of the evening. 
 As for that, I don't want to prevent you from 
 making a big fire if you are cold, but you must 
 give me an account of it. Now this morning I 
 find the log at the back; but there are three charred 
 sticks in front. Why should there be three, eh, 
 if you did not put another log on ? " 
 
 " Oh, my dear, how you weary me with your 
 charred sticks. They put wood on, or they do not 
 put wood on, do you think I take note of that ? 
 I am reading a story which interests me, and you 
 interrupt me for a stick of wood." 
 
 Monsieur holds his tongue ; he contents him- 
 self with whistling in a low tone, which he always 
 does when he receives an answer which displeases 
 him. He continues his breakfast, presently he 
 mutters, 
 
 " This milk isn't good ; there's never any cream 
 on it, and yet the milkwoman gives us less than 
 she used. It seems to me there might be ajar 
 especially to get the milk in ; then we should be 
 able to tell if the milkwoman always gave exactly 
 the same measure. Eulalie, have you a jar for 
 that?" 
 
 Eulalie makes no answer, she continues to read. 
 
 "Tell me now, don't you think I am right ? In 
 having always the same jar, one can see at once if 
 one has the right quantity ? " 
 
 Madame answers angrily, but without ceasing to 
 read,
 
 THE HUSBANDS 
 
 " Yes, yes, we will have a jar, have ten jars if 
 you like, but leave me alone." 
 
 " I did not say ten, I said one. That won't 
 cost much. They sell very pretty cups and milk 
 jars in colored earthenware with raised figures. 
 I've priced them, and they are worth twelve sous. 
 I'll tell you where you can get them. By the way, 
 this butter isn't first-class. How much did you 
 pay for this butter, my dear ? " 
 
 " I don't know anything about it." 
 
 " What ! you don't know anything about it ? " 
 
 " The maid bought it." 
 
 " But I presume you asked the maid what she 
 paid for it ? " 
 
 " Eh ! of course ! oh, it was thirty-six sous, I 
 remember now." 
 
 " You are not sure. Jeannette ! Jeannette ! " 
 
 The servant comes, eating a surreptitious morsel. 
 
 " How much was this butter, Jeannette?" 
 
 { * Thirty-six sous, monsieur." 
 
 " The pound ? " 
 
 " Mercy, it certainly was not by the quart." 
 
 " I know very well it wasn't by the quart ; but 
 it might have been by the kilo 1 ." 
 
 "What is that the pilo?" 
 
 " Kilo, I said ; it is the new weight ; you ought 
 to know how to reckon by the kilo. In fact, your 
 butter cost more than it was worth. I ate some 
 
 'A kilo is one thousand grammet, somewhat more than two English pounds 
 in weight.
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 257 
 
 yesterday at breakfast at one of my friend's ; he 
 only paid thirty-two sous and it was better than 
 that." 
 
 " Did monsieur ask his friend the price ? " 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 Jeannette is about to depart, but monsieur stops 
 her. 
 
 " What are you eating for your breakfast, Jean- 
 nette ? " 
 
 " Some of the cold leg of mutton that was left." 
 
 " Oh, was there not some of the beef left from 
 the day before yesterday ? " 
 
 " Why, the idea! that was finished long ago." 
 
 The maid departs, and monsieur mutters, 
 
 " It seems to me, there should still be some of 
 the beef left." \ 
 
 When the time for putting the room in order 
 arrives, monsieur is always in the way of the maid's 
 broom; he intends to see that she leaves no dust 
 in the corners, and that she thoroughly dusts the 
 furniture. The servant, made impatient by this, 
 always manages to throw the sweepings over her 
 master's legs. 
 
 If monsieur is going out with madame, he ex- 
 amines every portion of her toilet. 
 
 " Are you going to put on that gown ? " 
 
 "Yes, my dear." 
 
 " It doesn't fit well at the waist. Oh, you are 
 going to wear that lilac bonnet ? " 
 
 " Of course ; is it not pretty ? " 
 
 Vol. XX
 
 258 THE HUSBANDS 
 
 "Oh, yes, it is pretty, but I don't like the flowers 
 on it. Why, you've taken the lace off that shawl! 
 why did you do that?" 
 
 " Because it was too fine for the shawl, which 
 has now seen its best days." 
 
 " I assure you it looked much better with the 
 lace on." 
 
 Thanks to her husband's criticisms, madame 
 makes her toilet all over again or sometimes ends 
 by not going out at all because she has been put 
 out of temper. 
 
 Madame tells monsieur that she wants to buy 
 two or three summer gowns. Monsieur makes no 
 answer; but the next day he comes in, carrying 
 three pieces of stuff for gowns which he has bought 
 for his wife. He gives them to her, saying, 
 
 " There, I hope they will suit you." 
 
 Madame pretends to be pleased, so as not to 
 hurt her husband's feelings; but the gowns he has 
 bought do not please her taste, either in color or 
 texture ; she wishes they were worn out, that she 
 might have others. Had she bought the dresses 
 herself, she would have chosen prettier ones and 
 no doubt she would have paid less for them. 
 
 Some time before the dinner hour our meddle- 
 some man does not fail to go into the kitchen to 
 ferret about; he uncovers stewpans and sauce- 
 pans ; he tastes ragouts, he calls the cook. 
 
 " What is that, in there ? " 
 
 " A fricassee of fowl, monsieur."
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 
 
 259 
 
 " Have you put mushrooms in it ? " 
 
 " Certainly, monsieur." 
 
 "That's singular, I don't find any. Oh, yes, 
 I see them. Have we meat soup to-day ? " 
 
 " Yes, monsieur, here is the pot-au-feu." 
 
 " That's right! But you put too many vegeta- 
 bles in your pot, and that spoils the bouillon. How 
 many carrots did you put in your stewpan ? " 
 
 " Faith, monsieur, as if I could remember how 
 many. I put in all they gave me. Must I count 
 the carrots now ? " 
 
 " It would be much better if you did. I'll 
 wager there are six, at least." 
 
 And monsieur uncovers the stewpan looks in 
 it, and tries to count the vegetables ; the cook, 
 enraged at seeing her master constantly in the 
 kitchen, feels as if she would like to tie a dishcloth 
 to his coat. 
 
 During dinner monsieur notices that his ser- 
 vant's nose is red, that his wife has affixed her 
 napkin by one pin instead of two, and that her cat 
 is too fat. 
 
 In the evening comes company. Monsieur 
 scolds the maid if one of the visitors has not wiped 
 his feet on the doormat ; he goes to see that they 
 put sugar in the glasses of water ; it is he who takes 
 a lady's hat and shawl, and puts it somewhere, 
 saying, 
 
 " Be easy, I have placed it in safety. When you 
 leave, remember to ask me for it."
 
 260 THE HUSBANDS 
 
 And when the lady asks for her shawl they find 
 that the cat has ruined it, because monsieur, who 
 wants to do everything better than anybody else, 
 has carried the shawl into a room where no one 
 goes except the cat. 
 
 When they go to bed monsieur goes into every 
 room to see that they are in order. 
 
 He gets up two or three times to make sure 
 that the maid has extinguished her candle, and to 
 see that the doors are locked. 
 
 When a servant enters the service of a meddle- 
 some married man she does not usually make a 
 long stay there, but presently demands her wages 
 and departs. 
 
 But this gentleman's wife cannot do as does the 
 domestic. 
 
 Then there is the husband who goes to the 
 theatre with his wife. 
 
 Madame has a desire to go to the Vaudeville ; 
 monsieur says to her, just as they are leaving for the 
 play, 
 
 " My darling, what they are giving tonight at 
 the Vaudeville does not appear to me to be very 
 amusing. Let us go to the Francais ; it seems to 
 me, that will be preferable." 
 
 "What are they giving at the Fra^ais? " 
 
 " Le Mariage de Figaro.' ' 
 
 " We have seen that, I don't know how many 
 times." 
 
 " All the same, it is very amusing, and then it
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 26! 
 
 is so well staged. Decidedly, we must go to the 
 Frar^ais." 
 
 Madame yields ; her husband wants to take her 
 to the play and that is a great concession on his 
 part already, so she wishes to evince her gratitude 
 and let him conduct her to what theatre he pleases. 
 
 They reach the theatre and go into a box, ma- 
 dame seats herself in the front, and monsieur has 
 a place beside her ; but instead of looking at the 
 play he fixes his lorgnette on all the ladies who are 
 in the audience, and turns his back on the actors 
 and his wife. The play begins, but monsieur con- 
 tinues his inspection of the house, from time to 
 time exclaiming, 
 
 " There's a woman who is not half bad-looking ; 
 but these lights are so deceptive. There's one 
 with very beautiful teeth, but what a style her hair 
 is dressed in, and how provincial looking she is ! 
 How uncomfortable it is here ; one doesn't know 
 where to put one's knees. These boxes are far too 
 small ; they have a genius for making them as 
 though they were to accommodate a race of dwarfs. 
 I am going to stand at the back." 
 
 Monsieur passes behind madame and continues 
 his oglings. His wife ventures a remark as to the 
 merits of an actor, and he answers her, 
 
 " Eh ? what did you say ? By Jove ! I didn't 
 hear that part." 
 
 After a few moments, monsieur places himself 
 in the front again, exclaiming,
 
 262 THE HUSBANDS 
 
 "One can see nothing at all from the back; 
 these boxes are very ill-constructed." 
 
 He turns his glasses on to the body of the house 
 and makes remarks to his wife, who would rather 
 hear the play. During the following act, monsieur 
 sees one of his friends at the entrance to the bal- 
 cony and goes to talk with him. He comes in 
 again as the act is drawing to a close, and soon 
 leaves the box again to walk in the foyer. This 
 time he remains outside for a long time. When 
 he comes back the fourth act has begun, and his 
 wife says to him, in a rather displeased tone, 
 
 " Why, where have you been ? " 
 
 "In the foyer, talking with some acquaintances." 
 
 " And I stayed alone." 
 
 " By Jove ! my dear, I can't stay nailed to the 
 same place during the whole evening., it makes me 
 fidgety, and then, when I try to talk with you, you 
 don't answer." 
 
 " I was listening to the play." 
 
 " The play ! why, good heavens ! we know it by 
 heart, we have seen it ten times. 
 
 " It is so well staged and played." 
 
 "Yes, yes, but I've seen them all in it before. 
 Boxkeeper ! boxkeeper ! " 
 
 The boxkeeper appears at the door of the box. 
 
 " Give me the evening paper, the ' Moniteur,' 
 the * Messager,' no matter which that I may 
 have something to read." 
 
 The boxkeeper gives monsieur a paper, our hus-
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 263 
 
 band devours its contents, and the act finishes 
 without his saying a word to his wife or listening 
 to the scene that is being played. 
 
 During the next pause between the acts, which 
 is the last one, he insists on going out to buy some 
 oranges ; but his wife tells him very positively that 
 she does not wish him to go. He is, perforce, 
 obliged to remain in the box ; but he gets up and 
 sits down again every moment; he again directs 
 his lorgnette on a rather pretty person whom he has 
 perceived in the box opposite, and that he may the 
 better observe her, he turns his back on his wife. 
 
 They begin the fifth act, and madame cannot 
 help saying to her husband, 
 
 " Really, you have a very singular fashion of 
 conducting yourself at a play, if some of our ac- 
 quaintances should see you turning your back on 
 me they would think that we were very uncom- 
 fortable in our domestic life." 
 
 Monsieur turns round so he can look at the 
 stage, muttering, 
 
 " Oh, of course, if it vexes you; that's a differ- 
 ent matter." 
 
 The play goes on, and monsieur does not stir. 
 When the curtain falls madame turns towards him, 
 to see if he is satisfied ; and she then discovers that 
 her husband is fast asleep. She nudges him, and 
 he opens his eyes and tries to appear wide awake. 
 
 "Bravo! bravo!" he exclaims, "they played 
 it to perfection. I am very much pleased."
 
 264 THE HUSBANDS 
 
 So they go home ; butmadame says to herself, 
 
 " It seems to me he mightjust as well have taken 
 me to the Vaudeville." 
 
 I do not quite know why I make a separate class 
 of the licentious married man ; for, with very few 
 exceptions, they (the married men) are all more or 
 less so. 
 
 They always say to themselves, when they 
 marry : " Now, that is all past and done with ; 
 I am going to be virtuous. I have done enough 
 folly. I know life; and, after all, that sort of thing 
 is monotonous. I am quite resolved to be faithful 
 to my wife." 
 
 Some months later, the married man flirts, tries 
 to be pleasing, captivating, whenever he is with a 
 pretty woman ; he ogles, sighs, and even ventures 
 declarations precisely as if he were not a mar- 
 ried man of course, those who are prudent abstain 
 from writing love letters, or if they are obliged to 
 employ epistolary communication, they disguise 
 their writing, do not sign it, or sign it with a ficti- 
 tious name a conventional name. " Verba volant, 
 scripta manent." 
 
 Nearly all these gentlemen assume a pretty nick- 
 name, that their wives have never known them by, 
 and in the circles where they go as bachelors, at 
 the sly parties, at grisettes' and kept women's 
 abodes, M. Dupontcalls himself Arthur, M. Benoit 
 gives himself the name of Charles, M. Durand 
 makes them call him Isidore, and so on.
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 265 
 
 The porter is always instructed, these gentle- 
 men do not fail to say to him, 
 
 " If any letters come for M. Isidore give them 
 to me ; but only when I am alone, never before 
 my wife." 
 
 The married men know how to help each other, 
 serve each other in their little gallant intrigues, too. 
 
 Thus, monsieur has an appointment for the next 
 day with a sensitive young person, to whom he is 
 going to give a little dinner in a private room in 
 a restaurant, He goes in search of one of his 
 friends, a married man like himself, and whose 
 heart is as easily inflamed as his own. He takes 
 him aside and says to him, 
 
 " Tomorrow, I dine with you." 
 
 " What, tomorrow ? Why, I don't know about 
 that." 
 
 " Listen to me : tomorrow, it is understood that 
 I dine with you at a restaurant, a bet a party 
 arranged for sometime you understand. I have 
 told my wife that, because tomorrow I am not 
 going home to dinner; do you take me?" 
 
 " Oh, very good ; that will suit me perfectly, for 
 I happen to dine in town tomorrow myself." 
 
 " If you have time to drop in for a moment, you 
 can speak of our dinner before my wife, and that 
 will seem quite natural." 
 
 "Willingly. I'll call in on you presently." 
 
 "Thank you, my dear fellow, I'll do as much 
 for you some time, you know."
 
 266 THE HUSBANDS 
 
 " Confound it ! that's all right." 
 
 During the day the friend calls on our seductive 
 married man, and does not fail to say to him, in 
 his wife's presence, 
 
 " Oh, by the way, we dine together tomorrow ; 
 I hope you haven't forgotten it." 
 
 " At five o'clock at the Rotonde, I believe." 
 
 "Five o'clock to the minute military time. 
 Madame, I hope you'll forgive me for taking your 
 husband away from you tomorrow ; but it's a stag 
 party, and has been agreed on for a long time. As 
 for that, you can be easy, we shall be very pru- 
 dent." 
 
 And madame has the goodness to answer, 
 
 " I am always easy when I know my husband 
 is with you." 
 
 The licentious married man ordinarily has little 
 to say to his wife; he rarely opposes her, he prom- 
 ises her all that she wants she desires to go to 
 a concert, to the Bois-de-Boulogne, to see a play 
 that is having a great run, to pass a day in the coun- 
 try ; he always answers, 
 
 " Yes, we'll go, I'll take you there I promise 
 you." 
 
 These promises are unceasingly renewed, but 
 are never realized. Sometimes she gets impatient, 
 and says, 
 
 " You have been promising me to go into the 
 country for a century. The weather is delightful 
 why can't we go today ? "
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 267 
 
 " I can't go today, I have business I've two 
 lawyers to see." 
 
 " Well, tomorrow, then." 
 
 " Oh, yes. Why no, now I think of it that is 
 impossible ; tomorrow I must go to a creditors' 
 meeting, I can't absent myself from that." 
 
 "The day after tomorrow, then." 
 
 Forced into his last intrenchments, monsieur 
 answers, 
 
 " The day after tomorrow, that is settled." 
 
 " I shall dress myself early. We shall start at 
 noon, shall we not ? " 
 
 " At noon, yes, my dearest." 
 
 Upon the day appointed madame hastens to 
 dress for the occasion ; she is ready a little before 
 noon and asks the maid where her husband is. 
 
 " Monsieur went out at eleven o'clock, but he 
 said he would soon be in." 
 
 Madame waits. An hour passes, then another. 
 Madame loses all hope, she sadly takes off her 
 bonnet and shawl and her gown. At length, at 
 four o'clock, monsieur arrives, all out of breath, 
 all in a perspiration, and looking extremely tired. 
 
 " What ! you are not ready ? " says he to his 
 wife. 
 
 " Ready ? I was ready at noon, I was still so at 
 one o'clock, at two, but, seeing you did not come, 
 I changed my things." 
 
 " Had I known that, I should not have hurried 
 so much."
 
 268 THE HUSBANDS 
 
 " Oh, you hurried, did you ? and you get here 
 at four when we were to have started at twelve." 
 
 " I could not help it, I met some people and 
 they delayed me." 
 
 " You are always meeting some people. It would 
 be much better to tell me you don't wish to go 
 out with me, that would have been frank, and I 
 should not have had the trouble of dressing and 
 waiting for you." 
 
 " Oh, if you are going to quarrel and cry and 
 scold, I shall go out," and monsieur takes his hat 
 and disappears. This is how most of the excur- 
 sions planned by this gentleman and his wife turn 
 out. 
 
 Sometimes, however, monsieur cannot escape 
 going out with his wife ; the latter looks very nice, 
 and is quite proud of going out on her husband's 
 arm ; the thing is sufficiently rare to seem excep- 
 tionally delightful. But hardly has the couple got 
 to the end of the street than monsieur seems to be 
 struck by a sudden idea, stops and exclaims, 
 
 " By Jove, there's that attorney waiting for me 
 I must at least go and tell him I can't be with him. 
 It's not two steps from here wait, dearest! go 
 right straight on, you turn to the left on the boule- 
 vard, and keep on the same side. I'll be with you 
 again directly." And, before madame has had time 
 to object, her husband has disappeared and left her 
 alone in the middle of the street. She decides to 
 walk slowly on ; she keeps to the way that her
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 269 
 
 husband has indicated to her on the left of the 
 boulevards ; she walks thus for several hours, but 
 she does not see her husband again, and at last is 
 obliged to go home alone. In the evening, mon- 
 sieur says to her when he comes in, 
 
 " I can't imagine how I missed you, I looked 
 for you everywhere ; ten times did I go all along 
 the boulevards but could not see you." 
 
 When the married man pays court to a woman 
 who is free, the latter ordinarily says to him, 
 
 " But what if your wife should learn you are 
 courting other women ?" and our husband invari- 
 ably answers, 
 
 " Oh by Jove, do you suppose my wife bothers 
 her head about that? In the first place she is in 
 ill-health nearly always ill so you can imagine 
 Provided she has all that she needs at home, 
 that she can make her broths and herb teas, super- 
 intend her cooking and scold her maid, she is 
 happy." 
 
 But what these gentlemen say does not prevent 
 the ladies from being very well, or from thinking 
 of something other than herb teas and their 
 cooking. 
 
 In truth, when one sees all the bother, all the 
 efforts of the imagination, all the fears, all the 
 journeys, all the fatigues which are encountered by 
 the married man who runs after the women, one 
 wonders if these gentlemen would not be happier 
 in loving their wives. Do you not think they
 
 270 THE HUSBANDS 
 
 resemble those rebellious individuals against the 
 law and the National Guard who to escape the 
 orders of the sergeant-major and the gendarmes 
 who pursue the refractory, pass their time in mov- 
 ing, in changing their names and their neighbor- 
 hoods, in hiding and running away and who 
 would give themselves much less trouble if they 
 quietly took their turn in mounting guard. 
 
 The gay, pleasure-loving married man passes in 
 the world for a good fellow. Each one says, in 
 speaking of him, 
 
 " Do you know so-and-so ? What an excellent 
 fellow he is ! always in a good-humor. How 
 happy his wife must be." 
 
 Is it quite certain that his wife's fate is to be 
 envied? If she lives in the city, there are but few 
 days on which her husband does not bring some 
 one to dinner ; she expects four persons and he has 
 invited six, and does not tell her until almost din- 
 ner-time. Madame is then obliged to run here 
 and there to add to her bill of fare; and while she 
 is giving herself an immense amount of trouble to 
 prepare for the suitable entertainment of the guests 
 her husband has brought, the latter amuses him- 
 self, laughs, smokes, plays billiards or cards, up to 
 the moment that madame, quite wearied by the 
 additional trouble he has given her, announces to 
 the company that dinner is served. 
 
 At table, our gay married man is in a delightful 
 humor ; provided, however, that the roast be not
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 271 
 
 burned, that the wine be uncorked, and the coffee 
 hot. If one of these things fail he will swear ener- 
 getically enough, as he says, 
 
 " Why, that is detestable. My dear, you must 
 see, another time, that they pay more attention to it." 
 
 And the poor woman, who for several hours has 
 not even had time to cool her flushed face, 
 answers gently, 
 
 " Yes, my dear, it is because they were a little 
 hurried but it will not happen again." 
 
 After dinner, monsieur thinks of nothing but 
 passing the evening cheerfully with his friends. 
 Every kind of diversion is to his liking, even those 
 which require people to get upon the furniture, to 
 tear the curtains, throw water and turn everything 
 upside down. 
 
 If he has a garden, the guests may run about 
 there, play, tread down the grass, walk on the bor- 
 ders, lay waste the flowers, pick the fruits, break 
 the branches ; our man is the first to encourage his 
 friends to do all these things. 
 
 " Pshaw ! " he says to them, " we must amuse 
 ourselves. Roll on the grass, frolic about, break 
 things ! Why, it is positively necessary that we 
 should laugh a bit now and then." 
 
 And the next day it will give madame a good 
 day's work to repair the damages committed in her 
 domicile. 
 
 When monsieur takes his pleasure away from 
 home, his wife is at least quiet ; but often enough
 
 272 THE HUSBANDS 
 
 our gay man comes home indisposed, from an ex- 
 cess of truffled turkey, champagne or punch. And 
 instead of going peaceably to sleep, madame must 
 make tea, she must administer all kinds of things 
 to her husband in fact, she must pass the night 
 in caring for him. 
 
 And then these men of pleasure have very little 
 disposition for business, for work, for earning 
 money, in fact, they only know how to spend 
 it. And when a creditor comes, our man makes 
 his escape as quickly as possible, saying, 
 
 " You must go to my wife ; I never interfere 
 with such details as this." 
 
 This inclines me to think that in a household 
 where the husband is a gay spirit, it is he who must 
 be very happy. 
 
 Beware, gentlemen, of proving careless hus- 
 bands, for carelessness is nearly allied to indiffer- 
 ence, and the ladies sometimes revenge themselves 
 on an indifferent husband. 
 
 The careless husband comes in, goes out, stays 
 away, without ever troubling himself as to what 
 is taking place in his household. If the maid says 
 to him, " Madame has gone out " ; he only says, 
 " Ah," in a tone that is equivalent to " very good." 
 If later on they tell him, " Madame hasn't come 
 back yet " ; or, " Madame is dining in the city," 
 he reiterates his " Ah ! " and says nothing more. 
 
 Do not imagine that he will inquire what time 
 madame went out, or where she is gone or with
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 273 
 
 whom she is dining; he does not even think of 
 putting a single one of those questions. 
 
 Sometimes when he comes home unexpectedly, 
 which, however, is not his habit, he will find a 
 young man, whom he has never seen before, with 
 his wife. The young man bows and the husband 
 greets him with politeness, while his wife says, 
 
 " You don't know this gentlemen ? " 
 
 " Why, no no, I can't recall him." 
 
 " We met monsieur at Madame B 's, he had 
 
 the kindness to accompany me on the piano and 
 afterwards sang a duet with me." 
 
 " Oh, very good ! very good ! I think I do 
 remember now. Monsieur has a very pleasing 
 voice." 
 
 " Monsieur begged permission to come and have 
 a little music with me sometimes, and when you 
 came in we were just beginning a piece." 
 
 " Very well, so do ! so do ! I won't disturb you. 
 Monsieur is very kind to come and see us, and I 
 am delighted that he should make you sing ; that 
 will keep you in voice, for the voice needs culti- 
 vating." 
 
 Our careless husband listens to the music for a 
 few moments, but later leaves them together and 
 goes to his study to attend to his business affairs. 
 
 However, the young man, who probably has 
 developed a taste for duets as practised by himself 
 and madame, comes every day and sometimes, 
 even, in the evenings. 
 
 Vol. XX
 
 274 THE HUSBAND-S 
 
 Do not suppose that the husband sees anything 
 extraordinary in this assiduity, so far from that, he 
 is so used to seeing the young man with his wife 
 that when he does not find him there he will ask, 
 
 " Where is Arthur? " or Edouard ? or Alfred ? 
 as the case may be. "Why did he not come ? Can 
 he be ill ? Have you sent to inquire at his house ? " 
 and a thousand other questions of the same kind. 
 
 When they go for a walk, madame takes her 
 Sigisbe's arm and her husband walks beside her or 
 in front or behind, it does not matter to him which. 
 
 Madame goes to a ball, a concert, a play, when- 
 ever it pleases her, and with whoever she likes ; 
 the husband never thinks anything of it. Madame 
 often goes out very early to the bath ; and some- 
 times comes home very tired and with either very 
 red or very pale cheeks, and with her dress and 
 collar singularly disarranged. The servants notice 
 all these things, but monsieur pays no attention to 
 them. 
 
 Monsieur has a salary of a thousand crowns, or 
 a business which brings him in four or five thou- 
 sand francs per annum. This does not permit him 
 to give his wife a cashmere shawl, nor to buy her 
 velvet gowns. 
 
 However, she wears a cashmere, and has jewels 
 of the latest fashion ; she trims her gowns with 
 English embroidery, and monsieur does not say, 
 
 " How comes it that you have a cashmere ? 
 How did you manage to pay for those jewels ? "
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 275 
 
 And sometimes the house exhibits an amount of 
 elegance and luxury that is not at all in accord with 
 the husband's income. Still the husband never 
 remarks, 
 
 " How in the world is it that we can afford all 
 these things ?." 
 
 Here carelessness reaches a point where it might 
 be called by another name. I do not wish to say 
 what sobriquet might be applied to a married man 
 who acts thus. 
 
 Following this portrait of the careless husband 
 comes that of a jealous one. 
 
 When a man is married, he should take this 
 stand, 
 
 " Either my wife will be untrue to me, or she 
 will not be untrue to me." (No one can possibly 
 contest the truth of this proposition.) " If she be 
 untrue to me, she does not deserve that I should 
 vex myself, that I should suffer, that I should make 
 myself unhappy in the fear of losing her heart ; if 
 she be true to me, I should be extremely wrong 
 to doubt her. Thus, either in one hypothesis or 
 in the other, I should still do very wrong to be 
 jealous." 
 
 It seems to me this is an argument " ad homi- 
 nem." Why, it is exactly as though I had said 
 nothing ; and that does not prevent any one from 
 being jealous, because that feeling permits of no 
 argument. 
 
 A married man who is jealous is unhappy and
 
 276 THE HUSBANDS 
 
 makes everybody about him unhappy. The most 
 harmless occurrence gives rise in his mind to a 
 thousand suspicions. Then he plagues his wife, 
 is short with his children, scolds his maid, and beats 
 his dog if he has one. 
 
 When people gamble in the lottery, those who 
 have a passion for this kind of play find in every- 
 thing they see, everything they hear, everything 
 they dream, a motive to stake their money on such 
 or such a number. If they have dreamed of a cat, 
 they hasten to put something on forty-four and 
 eighty-eight. If they meet a drunkard, they must 
 play the seventy-seven and the thirteen. 
 
 A cab passes, they must stake on its number; 
 if it is over ninety, they dissect the number and 
 find therein three winning numbers, or even four. 
 Some one raps three times on the floor in the 
 morning, that is a warning direct from Providence 
 and they must play three. 
 
 In looking at a wall they see strange designs 
 which seem to represent numbers ; in looking at 
 the stars, they represent numbers, in the bottom 
 of a coffee cup they perceive figures; on the snow, 
 in the sand, in the fire ; everywhere, in fact, and in 
 everything, they find reasons for putting into the 
 lottery. 
 
 The jealous man is exactly like these patrons of 
 the lottery. 
 
 If his wife sleeps badly, it is because she is pre- 
 occupied about something. She has dreamed aloud,
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 277 
 
 she has spoken of monsieur such-a-one, and of 
 the Grand Turk ; true, she is not in love with the 
 Grand Turk, but she may be with monsieur such- 
 a-one. 
 
 Madame gets up early and makes no noise, 
 thinking that her husband is still asleep, but the 
 latter, who always sleeps with one eye open, says 
 to her, 
 
 " Devil take it ; you use much precaution in 
 getting up this morning you are afraid of wak- 
 ing me, it would seem." 
 
 " My dear, as I thought you were asleep it 
 seemed to me I ought to make no noise." 
 
 " Ah, no doubt you did not wish to awaken me, 
 a sleeping husband is more convenient. Why did 
 you get up so early this morning ? What are you 
 hurrying for?" 
 
 " Nothing ; but I could sleep no longer, besides, 
 it is quite time to get up." 
 
 Madame dresses herself. Monsieur looks at her 
 from head to foot ; with a glance he has taken in 
 every part of her toilet. 
 
 "What have you put that gown on for? " he 
 exclaims ; " are you going out ?" 
 
 " I have no intention of doing so. This gown 
 is one of those I habitually wear in the house." 
 
 " And that cap ? one would say you had some- 
 thing on hand today." 
 
 "What do you mean? something on hand? 
 don't I usually put on a cap ? "
 
 278 THE HUSBANDS 
 
 " Yes, but sometimes there is a little more par- 
 ticularity in the way of putting it on." 
 
 Madame shrugs her shoulders, and does not 
 answer. 
 
 If monsieur has an appointment, and his wife 
 says to him, " My dear this is the time you ap- 
 pointed to do so-and-so " ; he will answer, " You 
 are in a great hurry to have me go out." 
 
 If madame goes out he counts the minutes till 
 she comes back again. He knows where she is 
 going, what purchases she is to make and with 
 whom she has to speak ; he has calculated how 
 long it will take her to do all that ; he has traced 
 the itinerary of her route, she must not turn aside 
 from it. 
 
 If madame remains out a quarter of an hour 
 longer than the time calculated by her husband, or 
 if he should meet her in another street than one of 
 those she has mentioned to him he concludes 
 from that, that his wife has intrigues. 
 
 If madame does not eat at dinner, that is sus- 
 picious ; she must have had something outside. 
 If she has a good appetite, that also is suspicious. 
 What has she been doing to get such an appetite 
 as that? 
 
 If she prefers one theatre to another that is suspi- 
 cious. Probably she has made an appointment 
 with some one and wants to go where she hopes 
 to meet the person in whom she is interested. 
 
 If she refuses to go out in the evening with her
 
 CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK 279 
 
 husband, it is very suspicious ; she must be expect- 
 ing to receive some one when she is alone. If she 
 urges her husband not to go out, but to stay with 
 her, it is very suspicious ; it is because she wants 
 to dissipate all the suspicions her husband might 
 conceive, and in acting thus she really hopes that 
 he will go out. 
 
 If she is cold and does not respond to her hus- 
 band's caresses, that is extremely suspicious ; it is 
 that she loves another and her husband's caresses 
 weary her. If she is very loving, very lavish of her 
 caresses, that is still more suspicious ; she is man- 
 aging so as to hide from her husband the love she 
 feels for another. 
 
 If she speaks often of a certain gentleman, that 
 is always suspicious ; as it shows that she often 
 thinks of him. If she never speaks of him, that 
 is to hide her game. If she speaks ill of him, that 
 is bad too; for she does it so her husband may not 
 be jealous of him. 
 
 And so on and so on. I might go on like this 
 for a very long time ; for you see very well that 
 it is limitless, and exactly like the gambler in a lot- 
 tery who sees numbers in everything. 
 
 To sum up, jealousy is a very sad thing which 
 sometimes turns to tragedy, as in the case of 
 Othello. 
 
 It is a well-confirmed fact that jealousy does not 
 preserve anything, and prevents nothing. Some- 
 times, on the contrary, it gives a woman the desire
 
 280 THE HUSBANDS 
 
 to do what she else had never thought of, for noth- 
 ing exasperates like injustice. 
 
 And, then, a jealous man is tiresome ; a tiresome 
 man is very contrary, very unamiable, very sad, and 
 people get into the habit of rejoicing when he is 
 not there. 
 
 Happy the husbands who are not (I was still 
 going to say jealous). 
 
 As for the husband who is what you know 
 well, that makes absolutely no change in his face, 
 his deportment, his manners or his way of express- 
 ing himself. 
 
 " Ab uno disce omnes."
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 - 
 
 10197 
 
 ?orm L9 Series 444
 
 A 000 1 60 669 8