Contents:

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Original Maupassant Short Stories, Vol. 11. ....................................................................................................1

Guy de Maupassant ..................................................................................................................................1

THE UMBRELLA ...................................................................................................................................1

BELHOMME'S BEAST..........................................................................................................................8

DISCOVERY .........................................................................................................................................13

THE ACCURSED BREAD ...................................................................................................................16

THE DOWRY ........................................................................................................................................18

THE DIARY OF A MADMAN............................................................................................................24

THE MASK...........................................................................................................................................27

THE PENGUINS' ROCK......................................................................................................................32

A FAMILY............................................................................................................................................35

SUICIDES.............................................................................................................................................38

AN ARTIFICE .......................................................................................................................................41

DREAMS ...............................................................................................................................................43

SIMON'S PAPA....................................................................................................................................46

Mme. Oreille was a very economical woman; she knew the value of a centime, and possessed a whole

storehouse of strict principles with regard to the multiplication of money, so that her cook found the greatest

difficulty in making what the servants call their marketpenny, and her husband was hardly allowed any

pocket money at all. They were, however, very comfortably off, and had no children; but it really pained

Mme. Oreille to see any money spent; it was like tearing at her heartstrings when she had to take any of those

nice crownpieces out of her pocket; and whenever she had to spend anything, no matter how necessary it

"You really might be more liberal, as we have no children, and never spend our income."

"You don't know what may happen," she used to reply. "It is better to have too much than too little."

She was a little woman of about forty, very active, rather hasty, wrinkled, very neat and tidy, and with a very

Her husband frequently complained of all the privations she made him endure; some of them were

He was one of the head clerks in the War Office, and only stayed on there in obedience to his wife's wish, to

For two years he had always come to the office with the same old patched umbrella, to the great amusement

of his fellow clerks. At last he got tired of their jokes, and insisted upon his wife buying him a new one. She

bought one for eight francs and a half, one of those cheap articles which large houses sell as an

advertisement. When the men in the office saw the article, which was being sold in Paris by the thousand,

they began their jokes again, and Oreille had a dreadful time of it. They even made a song about it, which he

Oreille was very angry, and peremptorily told his wife to get him a new one, a good silk one, for twenty

She bought him one for eighteen francs, and said, getting red with anger as she gave it to her husband:

Oreille felt quite triumphant, and received a small ovation at the office with his new acquisition.

When he went home in the evening his wife said to him, looking at the umbrella uneasily:

"You should not leave it fastened up with the elastic; it will very likely cut the silk. You must take care of it,

She took it, unfastened it, and remained dumfounded with astonishment and rage; in the middle of the silk

there was a hole as big as a sixpenny piece; it had been made with the end of a cigar.

"Youyouhaveburnedyour umbrella! Whyyou must bemad! Do you wish to ruin us outright?"

And rushing at him, as if she were going to beat him, she violently thrust the little circular burned hole under

He was so utterly struck dumb at the sight of it that he could only stammer out:

"Whatwhat is it? How should I know? I have done nothing, I will swear. I don't know what is the matter

"You have been playing tricks with it at the office; you have been playing the fool and opening it, to show it

"I only opened it once, to let them see what a nice one it was, that is all, I swear."

But she shook with rage, and got up one of those conjugal scenes which make a peaceable man dread the

She mended it with a piece of silk cut out of the old umbrella, which was of a different color, and the next

day Oreille went off very humbly with the mended article in his hand. He put it into a cupboard, and thought

But he had scarcely got home that evening when his wife took the umbrella from him, opened it, and nearly

had a fit when she saw what had befallen it, for the disaster was irreparable. It was covered with small holes,

which evidently proceeded from burns, just as if some one had emptied the ashes from a lighted pipe on to it.

She looked at it without a word, in too great a passion to be able to say anything. He, also, when he saw the

They looked at each other, then he looked at the floor; and the next moment she threw the useless article at

his head, screaming out in a transport of the most violent rage, for she had recovered her voice by that time:

"Oh! you brute! you brute! You did it on purpose, but I will pay you out for it. You shall not have another."

And then the scene began again, and after the storm had raged for an hour, he at last was able to explain

himself. He declared that he could not understand it at all, and that it could only proceed from malice or from

A ring at the bell saved him; it was a friend whom they were expecting to dinner.

Mme. Oreille submitted the case to him. As for buying a new umbrella, that was out of the question; her

husband should not have another. The friend very sensibly said that in that case his clothes would be spoiled,

and they were certainly worth more than the umbrella. But the little woman, who was still in a rage, replied:

"Very well, then, when it rains he may have the kitchen umbrella, for I will not give him a new silk one."

"All right," he said; "then I shall resign my post. I am not going to the office with the kitchen umbrella."

"It will cost at least eight francs to recover it. Eight and eighteen are twentysix. Just fancy, twentysix

"Make your fire assurance pay for it. The companies pay for all articles that are burned, as long as the

On hearing this advice the little woman calmed down immediately, and then, after a moment's reflection, she

"Tomorrow, before going to your office, you will go to the Maternelle Assurance Company, show them the

"I would not do it for my life! It is eighteen francs lost, that is all. It will not ruin us."

The next morning he took a walkingstick when he went out, and, luckily, it was a fine day.

Left at home alone, Mme. Oreille could not get over the loss of her eighteen francs by any means. She had

put the umbrella on the dining room table, and she looked at it without being able to come to any

Every moment she thought of the assurance company, but she did not dare to encounter the quizzical looks of

the gentlemen who might receive her, for she was very timid before people, and blushed at a mere nothing,

But the regret at the loss of the eighteen francs pained her as if she had been wounded. She tried not to think

of it any more, and yet every moment the recollection of the loss struck her painfully. What was she to do,

however? Time went on, and she could not decide; but suddenly, like all cowards, on making a resolve, she

But first of all she was obliged to prepare the umbrella so that the disaster might be complete, and the reason

of it quite evident. She took a match from the mantelpiece, and between the ribs she burned a hole as big as

the palm of her hand; then she delicately rolled it up, fastened it with the elastic band, put on her bonnet and

shawl, and went quickly toward the Rue de Rivoli, where the assurance office was.

But the nearer she got, the slower she walked. What was she going to say, and what reply would she get?

She looked at the numbers of the houses; there were still twentyeight. That was all right, so she had time to

consider, and she walked slower and slower. Suddenly she saw a door on which was a large brass plate with

"La Maternelle Fire Assurance Office" engraved on it. Already! She waited a moment, for she felt nervous

and almost ashamed; then she walked past, came back, walked past again, and came back again.

She could not help noticing, however, how her heart beat as she entered. She went into an enormous room

with grated doors all round it, and above them little openings at which a man's head appeared, and as a

gentleman carrying a number of papers passed her, she stopped him and said timidly: "I beg your pardon,

monsieur, but can you tell me where I must apply for payment for anything that has been accidentally

This frightened her still more, and she felt inclined to run away, to put in no claim, to sacrifice her eighteen

francs. But the idea of that sum revived her courage, and she went upstairs, out of breath, stopping at almost

She knocked at a door which she saw on the first landing, and a clear voice said, in answer:

She obeyed mechanically, and found herself in a large room where three solemn gentlemen, all with a

She could hardly get out her words, but stammered: "I have comeI have come on account of an accident,

"The company, gentlemen, does not consider that it is under any obligation to you for more than four hundred

thousand francs, and we can pay no attention to your claim to the further sum of a hundred thousand, which

"That is quite enough, monsieur; the law courts will decide between us, and we have nothing further to do

Oh! if she could only have gone away with them, how gladly she would have done it; she would have run

away and given up everything. But it was too late, for the gentleman came back, and said, bowing:

The manager looked at the object which she held out to him in mute astonishment.

With trembling fingers she tried to undo the elastic, and succeeding, after several attempts, she hastily opened

"Yes, it was a capital article, and I wanted you to see the condition it is in."

"Yes, yes, I see; very well. But I really do not understand what it can have to do with me."

She began to feel uncomfortable; perhaps this company did not pay for such small articles, and she said:

She remained openmouthed, not knowing what to say next; then, suddenly recollecting that she had left out

"I am Mme. Oreille; we are assured in La Maternelle, and I have come to claim the value of this damage."

"I only want you to have it recovered," she added quickly, fearing a positive refusal.

The manager was rather embarrassed, and said: "But, really, madame, we do not sell umbrellas; we cannot

The little woman felt her courage reviving; she was not going to give up without a struggle; she was not even

"I only want you to pay me the cost of repairing it; I can quite well get it done myself."

"Really, madame, it is such a very small matter! We are never asked to give compensation for such trivial

losses. You must allow that we cannot make good pockethandkerchiefs, gloves, brooms, slippers, all the

"But, monsieur, last December one of our chimneys caught fire, and caused at least five hundred francs'

damage; M. Oreille made no claim on the company, and so it is only just that it should pay for my umbrella

"You must acknowledge, madame, that it is very surprising that M. Oreille should have asked no

compensation for damages amounting to five hundred francs, and should now claim five or six francs for

"I beg your pardon, monsieur, the five hundred francs affected M. Oreille's pocket, whereas this damage,

amounting to eighteen francs, concerns Mme. Oreille's pocket only, which is a totally different matter."

As he saw that he had no chance of getting rid of her, and that he would only be wasting his time, he said

"This is how it happened, monsieur: In our hall there is a bronze stick and umbrella stand, and the other day,

when I came in, I put my umbrella into it. I must tell you that just above there is a shelf for the candlesticks

and matches. I put out my hand, took three or four matches, and struck one, but it missed fire, so I struck

"Very likely. At any rate, the fourth caught fire, and I lit my candle, and went into my room to go to bed; but

in a quarter of an hour I fancied that I smelt something burning, and I have always been terribly afraid of fire.

If ever we have an accident it will not be my fault, I assure you. I am terribly nervous since our chimney was

on fire, as I told you; so I got up, and hunted about everywhere, sniffing like a dog after game, and at last I

noticed that my umbrella was burning. Most likely a match had fallen between the folds and burned it. You

The manager had taken his cue, and asked her: "What do you estimate the damage at?"

She did not know what to say, as she was not certain what value to put on it, but at last she replied:

"No, madame, I cannot do that. Tell me the amount of your claim, that is all I want to know."

"Well, I think that Look here, monsieur, I do not want to make any money out of you, so I will tell you

what we will do. I will take my umbrella to the maker, who will recover it in good, durable silk, and I will

"Perfectly, madame; we will settle it so. Here is a note for the cashier, who will repay you whatever it costs

He gave Mme. Oreille a slip of paper, who took it, got up and went out, thanking him, for she was in a hurry

She went briskly through the streets, looking out for a really good umbrella maker, and when she found a

shop which appeared to be a first class one, she went in, and said, confidently:

"I want this umbrella recovered in silk, good silk. Use the very best and strongest you have; I don't mind

The coach for Havre was ready to leave Criquetot, and all the passengers were waiting for their names to be

called out, in the courtyard of the Commercial Hotel kept by Monsieur Malandain, Jr.

It was a yellow wagon, mounted on wheels which had once been yellow, but were now almost gray through

the accumulation of mud. The front wheels were very small, the back ones, high and fragile, carried the large

body of the vehicle, which was swollen like the belly of an animal. Three white horses, with enormous heads

and great round knees, were the first things one noticed. They were harnessed ready to draw this coach,

which had something of the appearance of a monster in its massive structure. The horses seemed already

The driver, Cesaire Horlaville, a little man with a big paunch, supple nevertheless, through his constant habit

of climbing over the wheels to the top of the wagon, his face all aglow from exposure to the brisk air of the

plains, to rain and storms, and also from the use of brandy, his eyes twitching from the effect of constant

contact with wind and hail, appeared in the doorway of the hotel, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

Large round baskets, full of frightened poultry, were standing in front of the peasant women. Cesaire

Horlaville took them one after the other and packed them on the top of his coach; then more gently, he loaded

on those containing eggs; finally he tossed up from below several little bags of grain, small packages

wrapped in handkerchiefs, pieces of cloth, or paper. Then he opened the back door, and drawing a list from

The priest advanced. He was a large, powerful, robust man with a red face and a genial expression. He

hitched up his cassock to lift his foot, just as the women hold up their skirts, and climbed into the coach.

The man hastened forward, tall, timid, wearing a long frock coat which fell to his knees, and he in turn

Poiret approached, a tall, roundshouldered man, bent by the plow, emaciated through abstinence, bony, with

a skin dried by a sparing use of water. His wife followed him, small and thin, like a tired animal, carrying a

The driver was going to answer with a jest, when Rabot dived head first towards the door, pushed forward by

a vigorous shove from his wife, a tall, square woman with a large, round stomach like a barrel, and hands as

A large peasant, heavier than an ox, made the springs bend, and was in turn engulfed in the interior of the

Belhomme, tall and thin, came forward, his neck bent, his head hanging, a handkerchief held to his ear as if

All these people wore the blue blouse over quaint and antique coats of a black or greenish cloth, Sunday

clothes which they would only uncover in the streets of Havre. Their heads were covered by silk caps at high

The driver then yelling "Get up!" as loud as he could, whipped up his horses. They shook themselves, and,

with an effort, started off at a slow, halting gait. And behind them came the coach, rattling its shaky windows

and iron springs, making a terrible clatter of hardware and glass, while the passengers were tossed hither and

At first all kept silent out of respect for the priest, that they might not shock him. Being of a loquacious and

The enormous farmer who, on account of his size, girth and stomach, felt a bond of sympathy for the

"Oh! I'd be all right only the colzas ain't agoin' to give much this year, and times are so hard that they are the

"Hub! I should say they were hard," sounded the rather virile voice of Rabot's big consort.

Rabot, slender, timid, and selfsatisfied, bowed smilingly, bending his head forward as though to say: "Yes,

Suddenly Maitre Belhomme, still holding his handkerchief to his ear, began groaning in a pitiful fashion. He

was going "Ohohoh!" and stamping his foot in order to show his terrible suffering.

"No, Monsieur le cure, it is not the teeth. It's my earaway down at the bottom of my ear."

"I don't know whether it's wax; but I know that it is a bug, a big bug, that crawled in while I was asleep in the

"Am I sure? As sure as I am of heaven, Monsieur le cure! I can feel it gnawing at the bottom of my ear! It's

eating my head for sure! It's eating my head! Ohohoh!" And he began to stamp his foot again.

Great interest had been aroused among the spectators. Each one gave his bit of advice. Poiret claimed that it

was a spider, the teacher, thought it might be a caterpillar. He had already seen such a thing once, at

Campemuret, in Orne, where he had been for six years. In this case the caterpillar had gone through the head

and out at the nose. But the man remained deaf in that ear ever after, the drum having been pierced.

Maitre Belhomme, his head resting against the door, for he had been the last one to enter, was still moaning.

"Ohohoh! I think it must be an ant, a big antthere it is biting again. Oh, Monsieur le cure, how it

The fear of the doctor seemed to cure Belhomme. He straightened up without, however, dropping his

"What! You have money for them, for those loafers? He would have come once, twice, three times, four

times, five times! That means two five franc pieces, two fivefranc pieces, for sure. And what would he

"He kneaded his back with both hands as though he were making bread! And he was all right in a couple of

Belhomme thought that Chambrelan must also have used some charm, but he did not dare say so before the

"Are you sure it isn't a rabbit that you have in your ear? He might have taken that hole for his home. Wait, I'll

Whereupon Caniveau, making a megaphone of his hands, began to mimic the barking of hounds. He snapped,

howled, growled, barked. And everybody in the carriage began to roar, even the schoolmaster, who, as a rule,

However, as Belhomme seemed angry at their making fun of him, the priest changed the conversation and

Rabot agreed, nodding his head as though to say: "Oh, yes, it's a hard thing to bring up!"

And Rabot smiled broadly, nodding his head. He was responsible for fifteen, he alone, Rabot! His wife said

And whose was the sixteenth? She didn't tell. It was doubtless the first. Perhaps everybody knew, for no one

"If someone were to pour a little water into your ear, it might perhaps drive it out. Do you want to try?"

And everybody got out in order to witness the operation. The priest asked for a bowl, a napkin and a glass of

water, then he told the teacher to hold the patient's head over on one side, and, as soon as the liquid should

But Caniveau, who was already peering into Belhomme's ear to see if he couldn't discover the beast, shouted:

"Gosh! What a mess! You'll have to clear that out, old man. Your rabbit could never get through that; his feet

The priest in turn examined the passage and saw that it was too narrow and too congested for him to attempt

to expel the animal. It was the teacher who cleared out this passage by means of a match and a bit of cloth.

Then, in the midst of the general excitement, the priest poured into the passage half a glass of water, which

trickled over the face through the hair and down the neck of the patient. Then the schoolmaster quickly

twisted the head round over the bowl, as though he were trying to unscrew it. A couple of drops dripped into

However, Belhomme exclaimed: "I don't feel anything any more." The priest triumphantly exclaimed:

"Certainly it has been drowned." Everybody was happy and got back into the coach.

But hardly had they started when Belhomme began to cry out again. The bug had aroused itself and had

become furious. He even declared that it had now entered his head and was eating his brain. He was howling

with such contortions that Poirat's wife, thinking him possessed by the devil, began to cry and to cross

herself. Then, the pain abating a little, the sick man began to tell how it was running round in his ear. With

his finger he imitated the movements of the body, seeming to see it, to follow it with his eyes: "There is goes

Caniveau was getting impatient. "It's the water that is making the bug angry. It is probably more accustomed

Everybody laughed, and he continued: "When we get to the Cafe Bourbeux, give it some brandy, and it won't

But Belhomme could contain himself no longer; he began howling as though his soul were being torn from

his body. The priest was obliged to hold his head for him. They asked Cesaire Horlaville to stop at the nearest

house. It was a farmhouse at the side of the road. Belhomme was carried into it and laid on the kitchen table

in order to repeat the operation. Caniveau advised mixing brandy and water in order to benumb and perhaps

They poured the liquid in drop by drop this time, that it might penetrate down to the bottom, and they left it

A bowl had once more been brought; Belhomme was turned over bodily by the priest and Caniveau, while

Cesaire Horlaville himself, whip in hand, had come in to observe the proceedings.

Suddenly, at the bottom of the bowl appeared a little brown spot, no bigger than a tiny seed. However, it was

moving. It was a flea! First there were cries of astonishment and then shouts of laughter. A flea! Well, that

was a good joke, a mighty good one! Caniveau was slapping his thigh, Cesaire Horlaville snapped his whip,

the priest laughed like a braying donkey, the teacher cackled as though he were sneezing, and the two women

Belhomme had seated himself on the table and had taken the bowl between his knees; he was observing, with

serious attention and a vengeful anger in his eye, the conquered insect which was twisting round in the water.

The driver, wild with joy, kept repeating: "A flea, a flea, ah! there you are, damned little flea, damned little

flea, damned little flea!" Then having calmed down a little, he cried: "Well, back to the coach! We've lost

The steamer was crowded with people and the crossing promised to be good. I was going from Havre to

The ropes were thrown off, the whistle blew for the last time, the whole boat started to tremble, and the great

wheels began to revolve, slowly at first, and then with everincreasing rapidity.

We were gliding along the pier, black with people. Those on board were waving their handkerchiefs, as

though they were leaving for America, and their friends on shore were answering in the same manner.

The big July sun was shining down on the red parasols, the light dresses, the joyous faces and on the ocean,

barely stirred by a ripple. When we were out of the harbor, the little vessel swung round the big curve and

pointed her nose toward the distant shore which was barely visible through the early morning mist. On our

left was the broad estuary of the Seine, her muddy water, which never mingles with that of the ocean, making

large yellow streaks clearly outlined against the immense sheet of the pure green sea.

As soon as I am on a boat I feel the need of walking to and fro, like a sailor on watch. Why? I do not know.

Therefore I began to thread my way along the deck through the crowd of travellers. Suddenly I heard my

name called. I turned around. I beheld one of my old friends, Henri Sidoine, whom I had not seen for ten

We shook hands and continued our walk together, talking of one thing or another. Suddenly Sidoine, who had

It was indeed full of them. The men were standing about, looking over the ocean with an allimportant air, as

The young girls, formless, with shoes which reminded one of the naval constructions of their fatherland,

wrapped in multicolored shawls, were smiling vacantly at the magnificent scenery. Their small heads,

planted at the top of their long bodies, wore English hats of the strangest build.

And the old maids, thinner yet, opening their characteristic jaws to the wind, seemed to threaten one with

their long, yellow teeth. On passing them, one could notice the smell of rubber and of tooth wash.

"What have you got against them? As far as I am concerned, they don't worry me."

"Unfortunately, she is. That would be cause for a divorce, and I could get rid of her."

"You don't understand? I'm not surprised. Well, she simply learned how to speak Frenchthat's all! Listen.

"I didn't have the least desire of getting married when I went to spend the summer at Etretat two years ago.

There is nothing more dangerous than wateringplaces. You have no idea how it suits young girls. Paris is

"Donkey rides, surfbathing, breakfast on the grass, all these things are traps set for the marriageable man.

And, really, there is nothing prettier than a child about eighteen, running through a field or picking flowers

"I made the acquaintance of an English family who were stopping at the same hotel where I was. The father

looked like those men you see over there, and the mother was like all other Englishwomen.

"They had two sons, the kind of boys who play rough games with balls, bats or rackets from morning till

night; then came two daughters, the elder a dry, shrivelledup Englishwoman, the younger a dream of beauty,

a heavenly blonde. When those chits make up their minds to be pretty, they are divine. This one had blue

eyes, the kind of blue which seems to contain all the poetry, all the dreams, all the hopes and happiness of the

"What an infinity of dreams is caused by two such eyes! How well they answer the dim, eternal question of

"It must not be forgotten either that we Frenchmen adore foreign women. As soon as we meet a Russian, an

Italian, a Swede, a Spaniard, or an Englishwoman with a pretty face, we immediately fall in love with her.

We enthuse over everything which comes from outsideclothes, hats, gloves, guns andwomen. But what

"I believe that that which pleases us in foreign women is their accent. As soon as a woman speaks our

language badly we think she is charming, if she uses the wrong word she is exquisite and if she jabbers in an

"My little English girl, Kate, spoke a language to be marvelled at. At the beginning I could understand

nothing, she invented so many new words; then I fell absolutely in love with this queer, amusing dialect. All

maimed, strange, ridiculous terms became delightful in her mouth. Every evening, on the terrace of the

"I married her! I loved her wildly, as one can only love in a dream. For true lovers only love a dream which

"Well, my dear fellow, the most foolish thing I ever did was to give my wife a French teacher. As long as she

slaughtered the dictionary and tortured the grammar I adored her. Our conversations were simple. They

revealed to me her surprising gracefulness and matchless elegance; they showed her to me as a wonderful

speaking jewel, a living doll made to be kissed, knowing, after a fashion, how to express what she loved. She

reminded me of the pretty little toys which say 'papa' and 'mamma' when you pull a string.

"Now she talksbadlyvery badly. She makes as many mistakes as ever but I can understand her.

"I have opened my doll to look insideand I have seen. And now I have to talk to her!

"Ah! you don't know, as I do, the opinions, the ideas, the theories of a welleducated young English girl,

whom I can blame in nothing, and who repeats to me from morning till night sentences from a French reader

"You have seen those cotillon favors, those pretty gilt papers, which enclose candies with an abominable

taste. I have one of them. I tore it open. I wished to eat what was inside and it disgusted me so that I feel

"I have married a parrot to whom some old English governess might have taught French. Do you

Daddy Taille had three daughters: Anna, the eldest, who was scarcely ever mentioned in the family; Rose, the

second girl, who was eighteen, and Clara, the youngest, who was a girl of fifteen.

Old Taille was a widower and a foreman in M. Lebrument's button manufactory. He was a very upright man,

very well thought of, abstemious; in fact, a sort of model workman. He lived at Havre, in the Rue

When Anna ran away from home the old man flew into a fearful rage. He threatened to kill the head clerk in a

large draper's establishment in that town, whom he suspected. After a time, when he was told by various

people that she was very steady and investing money in government securities, that she was no gadabout, but

was a great friend of Monsieur Dubois, who was a judge of the Tribunal of Commerce, the father was

He even showed some anxiety as to how she was getting on, and asked some of her old friends who had been

to see her, and when told that she had her own furniture, and that her mantelpiece was covered with vases and

the walls with pictures, that there were clocks and carpets everywhere, he gave a broad contented smile. He

had been working for thirty years to get together a wretched five or six thousand francs. This girl was

One fine morning the son of Touchard, the cooper, at the other end of the street, came and asked him for the

hand of Rose, the second girl. The old man's heart began to beat, for the Touchards were rich and in a good

The marriage was agreed upon, and it was settled that it should be a grand affair, and the wedding dinner was

to be held at SainteAdresse, at Mother Jusa's restaurant. It would cost a lot certainly, but never mind, it did

But one morning, just as the old man was going home to luncheon with his two daughters, the door opened

suddenly, and Anna appeared. She was well dressed and looked undeniably pretty and nice. She threw her

arms round her father's neck before he could say a word, then fell into her sisters' arms with many tears and

then asked for a plate, so that she might share the family soup. Taille was moved to tears in his turn and said

Then she told them about herself. She did not wish Rose's wedding to take place at

SainteAdressecertainly not. It should take place at her house and would cost her father nothing. She had

settled everything and arranged everything, so it was "no good to say any more about itthere!"

"Very well, my dear! very well!" the old man said; "we will leave it so." But then he felt some doubt. Would

the Touchards consent? But Rose, the brideelect, was surprised and asked: "Why should they object, I

She mentioned it to her lover the very same day, and he declared it would suit him exactly. Father and

Mother Touchard were naturally delighted at the idea of a good dinner which would cost them nothing and

They asked to be allowed to bring a friend, Madame Florence, the cook on the first floor, and Anna agreed to

After the civil formalities and the religious ceremony the wedding party went to Anna's house. Among those

whom the Tailles had brought was a cousin of a certain age, a Monsieur Sauvetanin, a man given to

philosophical reflections, serious, and always very selfpossessed, and Madame Lamondois, an old aunt.

Monsieur Sautevanin had been told off to give Anna his arm, as they were looked upon as the two most

As soon as they had arrived at the door of Anna's house she let go her companion's arm, and ran on ahead,

saying: "I will show you the way," and ran upstairs while the invited guests followed more slowly; and, when

they got upstairs, she stood on one side to let them pass, and they rolled their eyes and turned their heads in

The table was laid in the drawingroom, as the diningroom had been thought too small. Extra knives, forks

and spoons had been hired from a neighboring restaurant, and decanters stood full of wine under the rays of

The ladies went into the bedroom to take off their shawls and bonnets, and Father Touchard, who was

standing at the door, made funny and suggestive signs to the men, with many a wink and nod. Daddy Taille,

who thought a great deal of himself, looked with fatherly pride at his child's wellfurnished rooms and went

from one to the other, holding his hat in his hand, making a mental inventory of everything, and walking like

Anna went backward and forward, ran about giving orders and hurrying on the wedding feast. Soon she

appeared at the door of the diningroom and cried: "Come here, all of you, for a moment," and as the twelve

Rose and her husband had their arms round each other's waists and were kissing each other in every corner.

They sat down, and the wedding breakfast began, the relations sitting at one end of the table and the young

people at the other. Madame Touchard, the mother, presided on the right and the bride on the left. Anna

looked after everybody, saw that the glasses were kept filled and the plates well supplied. The guests

evidently felt a certain respectful embarrassment at the sight of all the sumptuousness of the rooms and at the

lavish manner in which they were treated. They all ate heartily of the good things provided, but there were no

jokes such as are prevalent. at weddings of that sort; it was all too grand, and it made them feel

uncomfortable. Old Madame Touchard, who was fond of a bit of fun, tried to enliven matters a little, and at

the beginning of the dessert she exclaimed: "I say, Philip, do sing us something." The neighbors in their street

The bridegroom got up, smiled, and, turning to his sisterinlaw, from politeness and gallantry, tried to think

of something suitable for the occasion, something serious and correct, to harmonize with the seriousness of

Anna had a satisfied look on her face, and leaned back in her chair to listen, and all assumed looks of

The singer announced "The Accursed Bread," and, extending his right arm, which made his coat ruck up into

It was decidedly long, three verses of eight lines each, with the last line and the last but one repeated twice.

All went well for the first two verses; they were the usual commonplaces about bread gained by honest labor

and by dishonesty. The aunt and the bride wept outright. The cook, who was present, at the end of the first

verse looked at a roll which she held in her hand, with streaming eyes, as if it applied to her, while all

applauded vigorously. At the end of the second verse the two servants, who were standing with their backs to

the wall, joined loudly in the chorus, and the aunt and the bride wept outright.

Daddy Taille blew his nose with the noise of a trombone, and old Touchard brandished a whole loaf half over

the table, and the cook shed silent tears on the crust which she was still holding.

"That is the right sort of song; very different from the nasty, risky things one generally hears at weddings."

Anna, who was visibly affected, kissed her hand to her sister and pointed to her husband with an affectionate

Intoxicated by his success, the young man continued, and unfortunately the last verse contained words about

the "bread of dishonor" gained by young girls who had been led astray. No one took up the refrain about this

bread, supposed to be eaten with tears, except old Touchard and the two servants. Anna had grown deadly

pale and cast down her eyes, while the bridegroom looked from one to the other without understanding the

reason for this sudden coldness, and the cook hastily dropped the crust as if it were poisoned.

Monsieur Sauvetanin said solemnly, in order to save the situation: "That last couplet is not at all necessary";

and Daddy Taille, who had got red up to his ears, looked round the table fiercely.

Then Anna, her eyes swimming in tears, told the servants in the faltering voice of a woman trying to stifle her

All the guests were suddenly seized with exuberant joy, and all their faces became radiant again. And when

old Touchard, who had seen, felt and understood nothing of what was going on, and pointing to the guests so

"Children, I warn you all to eat not of that bread," the whole company, when they saw the champagne bottles,

with their necks covered with gold foil, appear, burst out singing, as if electrified by the sight:

The marriage of Maitre Simon Lebrument with Mademoiselle Jeanne Cordier was a surprise to no one.

Maitre Lebrument had bought out the practice of Maitre Papillon; naturally, he had to have money to pay for

it; and Mademoiselle Jeanne Cordier had three hundred thousand francs clear in currency, and in bonds

Maitre Lebrument was a handsome man. He was stylish, although in a provincial way; but, nevertheless, he

Mademoiselle Cordier was graceful and freshlooking, although a trifle awkward; nevertheless, she was a

The marriage ceremony turned all Boutigny topsyturvy. Everybody admired the young couple, who quickly

returned home to domestic felicity, having decided simply to take a short trip to Paris, after a few days of

This teteatete was delightful, Maitre Lebrument having shown just the proper amount of delicacy. He had

taken as his motto: "Everything comes to him who waits." He knew how to be at the same time patient and

After four days, Madame Lebrument adored her husband. She could not get along without him. She would sit

on his knees, and taking him by the ears she would say: "Open your mouth and shut your eyes." He would

open his mouth wide and partly close his eyes, and he would try to nip her fingers as she slipped some dainty

between his teeth. Then she would give him a kiss, sweet and long, which would make chills run up and

down his spine. And then, in his turn, he would not have enough caresses to please his wife from morning to

"If you wish, we will leave for Paris next Tuesday. We will be like two lovers, we will go to the restaurants,

"And then, as we must forget nothing, ask your father to have your dowry ready; I shall pay Maitre Papillon

And he took her in his arms once more, to renew those sweet games of love which she had so enjoyed for the

The following Tuesday, fatherinlaw and motherinlaw went to the station with their daughter and their

"I tell you it is very imprudent to carry so much money about in a pocketbook." And the young lawyer

"Don't worry; I am accustomed to such things. You understand that, in my profession, I sometimes have as

much as a million about me. In this manner, at least we avoid a great amount of red tape and delay. You

The whistle blew and the train started. The trip lasted about an hour, during which time they did not say very

As soon as they were in front of the SaintLazare Station, Maitre Lebrument said to his wife:

"Dearie, let us first go over to the Boulevard and get something to eat; then we can quietly return and get our

"Is that the way you save money? A cab for a five minutes' ride at six cents a minute! You would deprive

A big omnibus was passing by, drawn by three big horses, which were trotting along. Lebrument called out:

The heavy carriage stopped. And the young lawyer, pushing his wife, said to her quickly:

"Go inside; I'm going up on top, so that I may smoke at least one cigarette before lunch."

She had no time to answer. The conductor, who had seized her by the arm to help her up the step, pushed her

inside, and she fell into a seat, bewildered, looking through the back window at the feet of her husband as he

And she sat there motionless, between a fat man who smelled of cheap tobacco and an old woman who

All the other passengers were lined up in silencea grocer's boy, a young girl, a soldier, a gentleman with

goldrimmed spectacles and a big silk hat, two ladies with a selfsatisfied and crabbed look, which seemed

to say: "We are riding in this thing, but we don't have to," two sisters of charity and an undertaker. They

The jolting of the wagon made them wag their heads and the shaking of the wheels seemed to stupefy

"Why didn't he come inside with me?" she was saying to herself. An unaccountable sadness seemed to be

The sisters motioned to the conductor to stop, and they got off one after the other, leaving in their wake the

pungent smell of camphor. The bus started tip and soon stopped again. And in got a cook, redfaced and out

of breath. She sat down and placed her basket of provisions on her knees. A strong odor of dishwater filled

The undertaker went out, and was replaced by a coachman who seemed to bring the atmosphere of the stable

with him. The young girl had as a successor a messenger, the odor of whose feet showed that he was

The lawyer's wife began to feel ill at ease, nauseated, ready to cry without knowing why.

Other persons left and others entered. The stage went on through interminable streets, stopping at stations and

"How far it is!" thought Jeanne. "I hope he hasn't gone to sleep! He has been so tired the last few days."

Little by little all the passengers left. She was left alone, all alone. The conductor cried:

She looked at him, understanding that he was speaking to her, as there was no one else there. For the third

"Come on, little one, you've talked enough! You can find ten men for every one that you lose. Now run

"But, monsieur, you are mistaken; I assure you that you must be mistaken. He had a big portfolio under his

"A big portfolio! Oh, yes! He got off at the Madeleine. He got rid of you, all right! Ha! ha! ha!"

The stage had stopped. She got out and, in spite of herself, she looked up instinctively to the roof of the bus.

Then she began to cry, and, without thinking that anybody was listening or watching her, she said out loud:

She began to walk straight ahead, too bewildered, too crazed even to understand what had happened to her.

Where was she to go? What could she do? What could have happened to him? How could he have made such

She had two francs in her pocket. To whom could she go? Suddenly she remembered her cousin Barral, one

She had just enough to pay for a cab. She drove to his house. He met her just as he was leaving for his office.

"Well, my dear cousin, by this time your husband must be well on his way to Belgium."

And, faint from excitement, she leaned her head on her cousin's shoulder and wept.

As people were stopping to look at them, he pushed her gently into the vestibule of his house, and, supporting

her with his arm around her waist, he led her up the stairs, and as his astonished servant opened the door, he

"Sophie, run to the restaurant and get a luncheon for two. I am not going to the office today."

He was deadthe head of a high tribunal, the upright magistrate whose irreproachable life was a proverb in

all the courts of France. Advocates, young counsellors, judges had greeted him at sight of his large, thin, pale

He had passed his life in pursuing crime and in protecting the weak. Swindlers and murderers had no more

redoubtable enemy, for he seemed to read the most secret thoughts of their minds.

He was dead, now, at the age of eightytwo, honored by the homage and followed by the regrets of a whole

people. Soldiers in red trousers had escorted him to the tomb and men in white cravats had spoken words and

But here is the strange paper found by the dismayed notary in the desk where he had kept the records of great

20th June, 1851. I have just left court. I have condemned Blondel to death! Now, why did this man kill his

five children? Frequently one meets with people to whom the destruction of life is a pleasure. Yes, yes, it

should be a pleasure, the greatest of all, perhaps, for is not killing the next thing to creating? To make and to

destroy! These two words contain the history of the universe, all the history of worlds, all that is, all! Why is

25th June. To think that a being is there who lives, who walks, who runs. A being? What is a being? That

animated thing, that bears in it the principle of motion and a will ruling that motion. It is attached to nothing,

this thing. Its feet do not belong to the ground. It is a grain of life that moves on the earth, and this grain of

life, coming I know not whence, one can destroy at one's will. Then nothingnothing more. It perishes, it is

26th June. Why then is it a crime to kill? Yes, why? On the contrary, it is the law of nature. The mission of

every being is to kill; he kills to live, and he kills to kill. The beast kills without ceasing, all day, every instant

of his existence. Man kills without ceasing, to nourish himself; but since he needs, besides, to kill for

pleasure, he has invented hunting! The child kills the insects he finds, the little birds, all the little animals that

come in his way. But this does not suffice for the irresistible need to massacre that is in us. It is not enough to

kill beasts; we must kill man too. Long ago this need was satisfied by human sacrifices. Now the

requirements of social life have made murder a crime. We condemn and punish the assassin! But as we

cannot live without yielding to this natural and imperious instinct of death, we relieve ourselves, from time to

time, by wars. Then a whole nation slaughters another nation. It is a feast of blood, a feast that maddens

armies and that intoxicates civilians, women and children, who read, by lamplight at night, the feverish story

One might suppose that those destined to accomplish these butcheries of men would be despised! No, they

are loaded with honors. They are clad in gold and in resplendent garments; they wear plumes on their heads

and ornaments on their breasts, and they are given crosses, rewards, titles of every kind. They are proud,

respected, loved by women, cheered by the crowd, solely because their mission is to shed human blood; They

drag through the streets their instruments of death, that the passerby, clad in black, looks on with envy. For

to kill is the great law set by nature in the heart of existence! There is nothing more beautiful and honorable

30th June. To kill is the law, because nature loves eternal youth. She seems to cry in all her unconscious acts:

2d July. A human beingwhat is a human being? Through thought it is a reflection of all that is; through

memory and science it is an abridged edition of the universe whose history it represents, a mirror of things

3d July. It must be a pleasure, unique and full of zest, to kill; to have there before one the living, thinking

being; to make therein a little hole, nothing but a little hole, to see that red thing flow which is the blood,

which makes life; and to have before one only a heap of limp flesh, cold, inert, void of thought!

5th August. I, who have passed my life in judging, condemning, killing by the spoken word, killing by the

guillotine those who had killed by the knife, I, I, if I should do as all the assassins have done whom I have

l0th August. Who would ever know? Who would ever suspect me, me, me, especially if I should choose a

15th August. The temptation has come to me. It pervades my whole being; my hands tremble with the desire

22d August. I could resist no longer. I killed a little creature as an experiment, for a beginning. Jean, my

servant, had a goldfinch in a cage hung in the office window. I sent him on an errand, and I took the little bird

in my hand, in my hand where I felt its heart beat. It was warm. I went up to my room. From time to time I

squeezed it tighter; its heart beat faster; this was atrocious and delicious. I was near choking it. But I could

Then I took scissors, shortnail scissors, and I cut its throat with three slits, quite gently. It opened its bill, it

struggled to escape me, but I held it, oh! I held itI could have held a mad dogand I saw the blood trickle.

And then I did as assassins doreal ones. I washed the scissors, I washed my hands. I sprinkled water and

took the body, the corpse, to the garden to hide it. I buried it under a strawberryplant. It will never be found.

Every day I shall eat a strawberry from that plant. How one can enjoy life when one knows how!

30th August. It is done. But what a little thing! I had gone for a walk in the forest of Vernes. I was thinking of

nothing, literally nothing. A child was in the road, a little child eating a slice of bread and butter.

The wish to kill him intoxicated me like wine. I approached him quite softly, persuaded that he was going to

run away. And, suddenly, I seized him by the throat. He looked at me with terror in his eyessuch eyes! He

held my wrists in his little hands and his body writhed like a feather over the fire. Then he moved no more. I

threw the body in the ditch, and some weeds on top of it. I returned home, and dined well. What a little thing

it was! In the evening I was very gay, light, rejuvenated; I passed the evening at the Prefect's. They found me

31st August. The body has been discovered. They are hunting for the assassin. Ah! ah!

6th October. Nothing has been discovered. Some strolling vagabond must have done the deed. Ah! ah! If I

had seen the blood flow, it seems to me I should be tranquil now! The desire to kill is in my blood; it is like

20th October. Yet another. I was walking by the river, after breakfast. And I saw, under a willow, a fisherman

asleep. It was noon. A spade was standing in a potatofield near by, as if expressly, for me.

I took it. I returned; I raised it like a club, and with one blow of the edge I cleft the fisherman's head. Oh! he

bled, this one! Rosecolored blood. It flowed into the water, quite gently. And I went away with a grave step.

25th October. The affair of the fisherman makes a great stir. His nephew, who fished with him, is charged

26th October. The examining magistrate affirms that the nephew is guilty. Everybody in town believes it. Ah!

27th October. The nephew makes a very poor witness. He had gone to the village to buy bread and cheese, he

declared. He swore that his uncle had been killed in his absence! Who would believe him?

28th October. The nephew has all but confessed, they have badgered him so. Ah! ah! justice!

15th November. There are overwhelming proofs against the nephew, who was his uncle's heir. I shall preside

25th January. To death! to death! to death! I have had him condemned to death! Ah! ah! The

advocategeneral spoke like an angel! Ah! ah! Yet another! I shall go to see him executed!

10th March. It is done. They guillotined him this morning. He died very well! very well! That gave me

Now, I shall wait, I can wait. It would take such a little thing to let myself be caught.

Alienist physicians to whom the awful story has been submitted declare that there are in the world many

undiscovered madmen as adroit and as much to be feared as this monstrous lunatic.

There was a masquerade ball at the ElyseeMontmartre that evening. It was the 'MiCareme', and the crowds

were pouring into the brightly lighted passage which leads to the dance ball, like water flowing through the

open lock of a canal. The loud call of the orchestra, bursting like a storm of sound, shook the rafters, swelled

through the whole neighborhood and awoke, in the streets and in the depths of the houses, an irresistible

desire to jump, to get warm, to have fun, which slumbers within each human animal.

The patrons came from every quarter of Paris; there were people of all classes who love noisy pleasures, a

little low and tinged with debauch. There were clerks and girlsgirls of every description, some wearing

common cotton, some the finest batiste; rich girls, old and covered with diamonds, and poor girls of sixteen,

full of the desire to revel, to belong to men, to spend money. Elegant black evening suits, in search of fresh or

faded but appetizing novelty, wandering through the excited crowds, looking, searching, while the

masqueraders seemed moved above all by the desire for amusement. Already the farfamed quadrilles had

attracted around them a curious crowd. The moving hedge which encircled the four dancers swayed in and

out like a snake, sometimes nearer and sometimes farther away, according to the motions of the performers.

The two women, whose lower limbs seemed to be attached to their bodies by rubber springs, were making

wonderful and surprising motions with their legs. Their partners hopped and skipped about, waving their

One of them, who had taken his place in the most famous quadrille, as substitute for an absent celebrity, the

handsome "SongeauGosse," was trying to keep up with the tireless "AretedeVeau" and was making

He was thin, dressed like a dandy, with a pretty varnished mask on his face. It had a curly blond mustache

and a wavy wig. He looked like a wax figure from the Musee Grevin, like a strange and fantastic caricature of

the charming young man of fashion plates, and he danced with visible effort, clumsily, with a comical

impetuosity. He appeared rusty beside the others when he tried to imitate their gambols: he seemed overcome

by rheumatism, as heavy as a great Dane playing with greyhounds. Mocking bravos encouraged him. And he,

carried away with enthusiasm, jigged about with such frenzy that suddenly, carried away by a wild spurt, he

pitched head foremost into the living wall formed by the audience, which opened up before him to allow him

to pass, then closed around the inanimate body of the dancer, stretched out on his face.

Some men picked him up and carried him away, calling for a doctor. A gentleman stepped forward, young

and elegant, in wellfitting evening clothes, with large pearl studs. "I am a professor of the Faculty of

Medicine," he said in a modest voice. He was allowed to pass, and he entered a small room full of little

cardboard boxes, where the still lifeless dancer had been stretched cut on some chairs. The doctor at first

wished to take off the mask, and he noticed that it was attached in a complicated manner, with a perfect

network of small metal wires which cleverly bound it to his wig and covered the whole head. Even the neck

was imprisoned in a false skin which continued the chin and was painted the color of flesh, being attached to

All this had to be cut with strong scissors. When the physician had slit open this surprising arrangement, from

the shoulder to the temple, he opened this armor and found the face of an old man, worn out, thin and

wrinkled. The surprise among those who had brought in this seemingly young dancer was so great that no one

All were watching this sad face as he lay on the straw chairs, his eyes closed, his face covered with white

hair, some long, falling from the forehead over the face, others short, growing around the face and the chin,

The man regained consciousness after being inanimate for a long time, but he still seemed to be so weak and

sick that the physician feared some dangerous complication. He asked: "Where do you live?"

The old dancer seemed to be making an effort to remember, and then he mentioned the name of the street,

which no one knew. He was asked for more definite information about the neighborhood. He answered with a

great slowness, indecision and difficulty, which revealed his upset state of mind. The physician continued:

Curiosity had overcome him to find out who this strange dancer, this phenomenal jumper might be. Soon the

They stopped before a high building of poor appearance. They went up a winding staircase. The doctor held

to the banister, which was so grimy that the hand stuck to it, and he supported the dizzy old man, whose

The door at which they had knocked was opened by an old woman, neat looking, with a white nightcap

enclosing a thin face with sharp features, one of those good, rough faces of a hardworking and faithful

He told her the whole affair in a few words. She became reassured and even calmed the physician himself by

telling him that the same thing had happened many times. She said: "He must be put to bed, monsieur, that is

"Oh! that's just a little drink, nothing more; he has eaten no dinner, in order to be nimble, and then he took a

few absinthes in order to work himself up to the proper pitch. You see, drink gives strength to his legs, but it

stops his thoughts and words. He is too old to dance as he does. Really, his lack of common sense is enough

She shrugged her shoulders and turned red from the anger which was slowly rising within her and she cried

"Ah! yes, why? So that the people will think him young under his mask; so that the women will still take him

for a young dandy and whisper nasty things into his ears; so that he can rub up against all their dirty skins,

with their perfumes and powders and cosmetics. Ah! it's a fine business! What a life I have had for the last

forty years! But we must first get him to bed, so that he may have no ill effects. Would you mind helping me?

The old man was sitting on his bed, with a tipsy look, his long white hair falling over his face. His companion

"Just see the fine head he has for his age, and yet he has to go and disguise himself in order to make people

think that he is young. It's a perfect shame! Really, he has a fine head, monsieur! Wait, I'll show it to you

She went to a table on which stood the washbasin a pitcher of water, soap and a comb and brush. She took the

brush, returned to the bed and pushed back the drunkard's tangled hair. In a few seconds she made him look

like a model fit for a great painter, with his long white locks flowing on his neck. Then she stepped back in

She added: "And if you had known him when he was twentyfive! But we must get him to bed, otherwise the

drink will make him sick. Do you mind drawing off that sleeve? Higherlike thatthat's right. Now the

trousers. Wait, I will take his shoes offthat's right. Now, hold him upright while I open the bed. Therelet

us put him in. If you think that he is going to disturb himself when it is time for me to get in you are

mistaken. I have to find a little corner any place I can. That doesn't bother him! Bah! You old pleasure

As soon as he felt himself stretched out in his sheets the old man closed his eyes, opened them closed them

again, and over his whole face appeared an energetic resolve to sleep. The doctor examined him with an

ever increasing interest and asked: "Does he go to all the fancy balls and try to be a young man?" "To all of

them, monsieur, and he comes back to me in the morning in a deplorable condition. You see, it's regret that

leads him on and that makes him put a pasteboard face over his own. Yes, the regret of no longer being what

He was sleeping now and beginning to snore. She looked at him with a pitying expression and continued:

"Oh! how many conquests that man has made! More than one could believe, monsieur, more than the finest

"Oh! it will surprise you at first, as you did not know him in his palmy days. When I met him it was also at a

ball, for he has always frequented them. As soon as I saw him I was caughtcaught like a fish on a hook.

Ah! how pretty he was, monsieur, with his curly raven locks and black eyes as large as saucers! Indeed, he

was good looking! He took me away that evening and I never have left him since, never, not even for a day,

She answered simply: "Yes, monsieur, otherwise he would have dropped me as he did the others. I have been

his wife and his servant, everything, everything that he wished. How he has made me crytears which I did

not show him; for he would tell all his adventures to meto me, monsieur without understanding how it

"That's so. I forgot to tell you. He was the foreman at Martel'sa foreman such as they never had hadan

"The hairdresser, monsieur, the great hairdresser of the Opera, who had all the actresses for customers. Yes,

sir, all the smartest actresses had their hair dressed by Ambrose and they would give him tips that made a

fortune for him. Ah! monsieur, all the women are alike, yes, all of them. When a man pleases their fancy they

offer themselves to him. It is so easyand it hurt me so to hear about it. For he would tell me

everythinghe simply could not hold his tongueit was impossible. Those things please the men so much!

"When I would see him coming in the evening, a little pale, with a pleased look and a bright eye, would say

to myself: 'One more. I am sure that he has caught one more.' Then I felt a wild desire to question him and

then, again, not to know, to stop his talking if he should begin. And we would look at each other.

"I knew that he would not keep still, that he would come to the point. I could feel that from his manner,

which seemed to laugh and say: 'I had a fine adventure today, Madeleine.' I would pretend to notice nothing,

to guess nothing; I would set the table, bring on the soup and sit down opposite him.

"At those times, monsieur, it was as if my friendship for him had been crushed in my body as with a stone. It

hurt. But he did not understand; he did not know; he felt a need to tell all those things to some one, to boast,

to show how much he was loved, and I was the only one he had to whom he could talkthe only one. And I

"And I would think: 'Here it comes! Goodness! what a man! Why did I ever meet him?'

"Then he would begin: 'One more! And a beauty, too.' And it would be some little one from the Vaudeville or

else from the Varietes, and some of the big ones, too, some of the most famous. He would tell me their

names, how their apartments were furnished, everything, everything, monsieur. Heartbreaking details. And he

would go over them and tell his story over again from beginning to end, so pleased with himself that I would

"Everything may not have been true! He liked to glorify himself and was quite capable of inventing such

things! They may perhaps also have been true! On those evenings he would pretend to be tired and wish to go

to bed after supper. We would take supper at eleven, monsieur, for he could never get back from work earlier.

"When he had finished telling about his adventure he would walk round the room and smoke cigarettes, and

he was so handsome, with his mustache and curly hair, that I would think: 'It's true, just the same, what he is

telling. Since I myself am crazy about that man, why should not others be the same?' Then I would feel like

crying, shrieking, running away and jumping out of the window while I was clearing the table and he was

smoking. He would yawn in order to show how tired he was, and he would say two or three times before

"I bear him no ill will, because he did not know how he was hurting me. No, he could not know! He loved to

boast about the women just as a peacock loves to show his feathers. He got to the point where he thought that

"It was hard when he grew old. Oh, monsieur, when I saw his first white hair I felt a terrible shock and then a

great joya wicked joybut so great, so great! I said to myself: 'It's the endit's the end.' It seemed as if I

were about to be released from prison. At last I could have him to myself, all to myself, when the others

"It was one morning in bed. He was still sleeping and I leaned over him to wake him up with a kiss, when I

noticed in his curls, over his temple, a little thread which shone like silver. What a surprise! I should not have

thought it possible! At first I thought of tearing it out so that he would not see it, but as I looked carefully I

noticed another farther up. White hair! He was going to have white hair! My heart began to thump and

"It was mean to feel thus, but I did my housework with a light heart that morning, without waking him up,

and, as soon as he opened his eyes of his own accord, I said to him: 'Do you know what I discovered while

"He jumped out of bed and ran over to the mirror. He could not find them. Then I showed him the first one,

the lowest, the little curly one, and I said: 'It's no wonder, after the life that you have been leading. In two

"Well, monsieur, I had spoken true; two years later one could not recognize him. How quickly a man

changes! He was still handsome, but he had lost his freshness, and the women no longer ran after him. Ah!

what a life I led at that time! How he treated me! Nothing suited him. He left his trade to go into the hat

business, in which he ate up all his money. Then he unsuccessfully tried to be an actor, and finally he began

to frequent public balls. Fortunately, he had had common sense enough to save a little something on which

we now live. It is sufficient, but it is not enormous. And to think that at one time he had almost a fortune.

"Now you see what he does. This habit holds him like a frenzy. He has to be young; he has to dance with

She was looking at her old snoring husband fondty, ready to cry. Then, gently tiptoeing up to him, she kissed

his hair. The physician had risen and was getting ready to leave, finding nothing to say to this strange couple.

"Would you mind giving me your address? If he should grow worse, I could go and get you."

From April to the end of May, before the Parisian visitors arrive, one sees, all at once, on the little beach at

Etretat several old gentlemen, booted and belted in shooting costume. They spend four or five days at the

Hotel Hauville, disappear, and return again three weeks later. Then, after a fresh sojourn, they go away

These are the last penguin hunters, what remain of the old set. There were about twenty enthusiasts thirty or

The penguin is a very rare bird of passage, with peculiar habits. It lives the greater part of the year in the

latitude of Newfoundland and the islands of St. Pierre and Miquelon. But in the breeding season a flight of

emigrants crosses the ocean and comes every year to the same spot to lay their eggs, to the Penguins' Rock

near Etretat. They are found nowhere else, only there. They have always come there, have always been

chased away, but return again, and will always return. As soon as the young birds are grown they all fly

Why do they not go elsewhere? Why not choose some other spot on the long white, unending cliff that

extends from the PasdeCalais to Havre? What force, what invincible instinct, what custom of centuries

impels these birds to come back to this place? What first migration, what tempest, possibly, once cast their

ancestors on this rock? And why do the children, the grandchildren, all the descendants of the first parents

There are not many of them, a hundred at most, as if one single family, maintaining the tradition, made this

And each spring, as soon as the little wandering tribe has taken up its abode an the rock, the same sportsmen

also reappear in the village. One knew them formerly when they were young; now they are old, but constant

to the regular appointment which they have kept for thirty or forty years. They would not miss it for anything

It was an April evening in one of the later years. Three of the old sportsmen had arrived; one was

He had written to no one, given no account of himself. But he was not dead, like so many of the rest; they

would have heard of it. At length, tired of waiting for him, the other three sat down to table. Dinner was

almost over when a carriage drove into the yard of the hotel, and the late corner presently entered the dining

He sat down, in a good humor, rubbing his hands, and ate with zest. When one of his comrades remarked

They retired on leaving the table, for they had to set out before daybreak in order to take the birds unawares.

At three o'clock in the morning the sailors awoke the sportsmen by throwing sand against the windows. They

were ready in a few minutes and went down to the beach. Although it was still dark, the stars had paled a

little. The sea ground the shingle on the beach. There was such a fresh breeze that it made one shiver slightly

Presently two boats were pushed down the beach, by the sailors, with a sound as of tearing cloth, and were

floated on the nearest waves. The brown sail was hoisted, swelled a little, fluttered, hesitated and swelling out

again as round as a paunch, carried the boats towards the large arched entrance that could be faintly

The sky became clearer, the shadows seemed to melt away. The coast still seemed veiled, the great white

They passed through the MannePorte, an enormous arch beneath which a ship could sail; they doubled the

promontory of La Courtine, passed the little valley of Antifer and the cape of the same name; and suddenly

That was the Penguins' Rock. It was just a little protuberance of the cliff, and on the narrow ledges of rock

They remained there, motionless, not venturing to fly off as yet. Some of them perched on the edges, seated

upright, looked almost like bottles, for their little legs are so short that when they walk they glide along as if

they were on rollers. When they start to fly they cannot make a spring and let themselves fall like stones

They know their limitation and the danger to which it subjects them, and cannot make up their minds to fly

But the boatmen begin to shout, beating the sides of the boat with the wooden boat pins, and the birds, in

affright, fly one by one into space until they reach the level of the waves. Then, moving their wings rapidly,

they scud, scud along until they reach the open sea; if a shower of lead does not knock them into the water.

For an hour the firing is kept up, obliging them to give up, one after another. Sometimes the mother birds will

not leave their nests, and are riddled with shot, causing drops of blood to spurt out on the white cliff, and the

The first day M. d'Arnelles fired at the birds with his habitual zeal; but when the party returned toward ten

o'clock, beneath a brilliant sun, which cast great triangles of light on the white cliffs along the coast he

As soon as they got on shore a kind of servant dressed in black came up to him and said something in a low

The following day they set out again. This time M, d'ArneUes frequently missed his aim, although the birds

were close by. His friends teased him, asked him if he were in love, if some secret sorrow was troubling his

As soon as breakfast was over the valet in black appeared. M. d'Arnelles ordered his carriage, arid the man

was leaving the room when the three sportsmen interfered, insisting, begging, and praying their friend to stay.

"Come now, this cannot be a matter o� such importance, for you have already waited two days."

M. d'Arnelles, altogether perplexed, began to think, evidently baffled, divided between pleasure and duty,

"I had the misfortune to lose him; and as I was taking the body to my house, in Briseville, I came round this

way so as not to miss our appointment. But you can see that I cannot wait any longer."

M. d'Arnelles appeared to be relieved of a great weight, but a little uneasy, nevertheless, he asked:

"Parbleu! my dear boy, two days more or less can make no difference in his present condition."

And, perfectly calmly, the fatherinlaw turned to the undertaker's assistant, and said:

I was to see my old friend, Simon Radevin, of whom I had lost sight for fifteen years. At one time he was my

most intimate friend, the friend who knows one's thoughts, with whom one passes long, quiet, happy

evenings, to whom one tells one's secret love affairs, and who seems to draw out those rare, ingenious,

For years we had scarcely been separated; we had lived, travelled, thought and dreamed together; had liked

the same things, had admired the same books, understood the same authors, trembled with the same

sensations, and very often laughed at the same individuals, whom we understood completely by merely

Then he married. He married, quite suddenly, a little girl from the provinces, who had come to Paris in search

of a husband. How in the world could that little thin, insipidly fair girl, with her weak hands, her light, vacant

eyes, and her clear, silly voice, who was exactly like a hundred thousand marriageable dolls, have picked up

that intelligent, clever young fellow? Can any one understand these things? No doubt he had hoped for

happiness, simple, quiet and longenduring happiness, in the arms of a good, tender and faithful woman; he

He had not dreamed of the fact that an active, living and vibrating man grows weary of everything as soon as

he understands the stupid reality, unless, indeed, he becomes so brutalized that he understands nothing

What would he be like when I met him again? Still lively, witty, light hearted and enthusiastic, or in a state

of mental torpor induced by provincial life? A man may change greatly in the course of fifteen years!

The train stopped at a small station, and as I got out of the carriage, a stout, a very stout man with red cheeks

and a big stomach rushed up to me with open arms, exclaiming: "George!" I embraced him, but I had not

recognized him, and then I said, in astonishment: "By Jove! You have not grown thin!" And he replied with a

"What did you expect? Good living, a good table and good nights! Eating and sleeping, that is my existence!"

I looked at him closely, trying to discover in that broad face the features I held so dear. His eyes alone had

not changed, but I no longer saw the same expression in them, and I said to myself: "If the expression be the

reflection of the mind, the thoughts in that head are not what they used to be formerly; those thoughts which I

Yet his eyes were bright, full of happiness and friendship, but they had not that clear, intelligent expression

"Here are my two eldest children." A girl of fourteen, who was almost a woman, and a boy of thirteen, in the

dress of a boy from a Lycee, came forward in a hesitating and awkward manner, and I said in a low voice:

"Are they yours?" "Of course they are," he replied, laughing. "How many have you?" "Five! There are three

He said this in a proud, selfsatisfied, almost triumphant manner, and I felt profound pity, mingled with a

feeling of vague contempt, for this vainglorious and simple reproducer of his species.

I got into a carriage which he drove himself, and we set off through the town, a dull, sleepy, gloomy town

where nothing was moving in the streets except a few dogs and two or three maidservants. Here and there a

shopkeeper, standing at his door, took off his hat, and Simon returned his salute and told me the man's name;

no doubt to show me that he knew all the inhabitants personally, and the thought struck me that he was

thinking of becoming a candidate for the Chamber of Deputies, that dream of all those who bury themselves

We were soon out of the town, and the carriage turned into a garden that was an imitation of a park, and

"That is my den," said Simon, so that I might compliment him on it. "It is charming," I replied.

A lady appeared on the steps, dressed for company, and with company phrases all ready prepared. She was no

longer the lighthaired, insipid girl I had seen in church fifteen years previously, but a stout lady in curls and

flounces, one of those ladies of uncertain age, without intellect, without any of those things that go to make a

woman. In short, she was a mother, a stout, commonplace mother, a human breeding machine which

She welcomed me, and I went into the hall, where three children, ranged according to their height, seemed set

out for review, like firemen before a mayor, and I said: "Ah! ah! so there are the others?" Simon, radiant with

The door of the drawingroom was open. I went in, and in the depths of an easychair, I saw something

trembling, a man, an old, paralyzed man. Madame Radevin came forward and said: "This is my grandfather,

monsieur; he is eightyseven." And then she shouted into the shaking old man's ears: "This is a friend of

Simon's, papa." The old gentleman tried to say "goodday" to me, and he muttered: "Oua, oua, oua," and

Simon had just come in, and he said with a laugh: "So! You have made grandpapa's acquaintance. He is a

treasure, that old man; he is the delight of the children. But he is so greedy that he almost kills himself at

every meal; you have no idea what he would eat if he were allowed to do as he pleased. But you will see, you

will see. He looks at all the sweets as if they were so many girls. You never saw anything so funny; you will

I was then shown to my room, to change my dress for dinner, and hearing a great clatter behind me on the

stairs, I turned round and saw that all the children were following me behind their father; to do me honor, no

My windows looked out across a dreary, interminable plain, an ocean of grass, of wheat and of oats, without

a clump of trees or any rising ground, a striking and melancholy picture of the life which they must be

A bell rang; it was for dinner, and I went downstairs. Madame Radevin took my arm in a ceremonious

manner, and we passed into the diningroom. A footman wheeled in the old man in his armchair. He gave a

greedy and curious look at the dessert, as he turned his shaking head with difficulty from one dish to the

Simon rubbed his hands: "You will be amused," he said; and all the children understanding that I was going

to be indulged with the sight of their greedy grandfather, began to laugh, while their mother merely smiled

and shrugged her shoulders, and Simon, making a speaking trumpet of his hands, shouted at the old man:

"This evening there is sweet creamed rice!" The wrinkled face of the grandfather brightened, and he trembled

more violently, from head to foot, showing that he had understood and was very pleased. The dinner began.

"Just look!" Simon whispered. The old man did not like the soup, and refused to eat it; but he was obliged to

do it for the good of his health, and the footman forced the spoon into his mouth, while the old man blew so

energetically, so as not to swallow the soup, that it was scattered like a spray all over the table and over his

neighbors. The children writhed with laughter at the spectacle, while their father, who was also amused, said:

During the whole meal they were taken up solely with him. He devoured the dishes on the table with his eyes,

and tried to seize them and pull them over to him with his trembling hands. They put them almost within his

reach, to see his useless efforts, his trembling clutches at them, the piteous appeal of his whole nature, of his

eyes, of his mouth and of his nose as he smelt them, and he slobbered on his table napkin with eagerness,

while uttering inarticulate grunts. And the whole family was highly amused at this horrible and grotesque

Then they put a tiny morsel on his plate, and he ate with feverish gluttony, in order to get something more as

soon as possible, and when the sweetened rice was brought in, he nearly had a fit, and groaned with

"You have eaten too much already; you can have no more." And they pretended not to give him any. Then he

began to cry; he cried and trembled more violently than ever, while all the children laughed. At last, however,

they gave him his helping, a very small piece; and as he ate the first mouthful, he made a comical noise in his

throat, and a movement with his neck as ducks do when they swallow too large a morsel, and when he had

I was seized with pity for this saddening and ridiculous Tantalus, and interposed on his behalf:

"Come, give him a little more rice!" But Simon replied: "Oh! no, my dear fellow, if he were to eat too much,

I held my tongue, and thought over those words. Oh, ethics! Oh, logic! Oh, wisdom! At his age! So they

deprived him of his only remaining pleasure out of regard for his health! His health! What would he do with

it, inert and trembling wreck that he was? They were taking care of his life, so they said. His life? How many

days? Ten, twenty, fifty, or a hundred? Why? For his own sake? Or to preserve for some time longer the

There was nothing left for him to do in this life, nothing whatever. He had one single wish left, one sole

After we had played cards for a long time, I went up to my room and to bed; I was lowspirited and sad, sad,

sad! and I sat at my window. Not a sound could be heard outside but the beautiful warbling of a bird in a tree,

somewhere in the distance. No doubt the bird was singing in a low voice during the night, to lull his mate,

who was asleep on her eggs. And I thought of my poor friend's five children, and pictured him to myself,

Hardly a day goes by without our reading a news item like the following in some newspaper:

"On Wednesday night the people living in No. 40 Rue de, were awakened by two successive shots.

The explosions seemed to come from the apartment occupied by M. X. The door was broken in and the

man was found bathed in his blood, still holding in one hand the revolver with which he had taken his life.

"M. X was fiftyseven years of age, enjoying a comfortable income, and had everything necessary to

What terrible grief, what unknown suffering, hidden despair, secret wounds drive these presumably happy

persons to suicide? We search, we imagine tragedies of love, we suspect financial troubles, and, as we never

A letter found on the desk of one of these "suicides without cause," and written during his last night, beside

his loaded revolver, has come into our hands. We deem it rather interesting. It reveals none of those great

catastrophes which we always expect to find behind these acts of despair; but it shows us the slow succession

of the little vexations of life, the disintegration of a lonely existence, whose dreams have disappeared; it gives

the reason for these tragic ends, which only nervous and highstrung people can understand.

"It is midnight. When I have finished this letter I shall kill myself. Why? I shall attempt to give the reasons,

not for those who may read these lines, but for myself, to kindle my waning courage, to impress upon myself

"I was brought up by simpleminded parents who were unquestioning believers. And I believed as they did.

"During the last few years a strange change has been taking place within me. All the events of Life, which

formerly had to me the glow of a beautiful sunset, are now fading away. The true meaning of things has

appeared to me in its brutal reality; and the true reason for love has bred in me disgust even for this poetic

sentiment: 'We are the eternal toys of foolish and charming illusions, which are always being renewed.'

"On growing older, I had become partly reconciled to the awful mystery of life, to the uselessness of effort;

when the emptiness of everything appeared to me in a new light, this evening, after dinner.

"Formerly, I was happy! Everything pleased me: the passing women, the appearance of the streets, the place

where I lived; and I even took an interest in the cut of my clothes. But the repetition of the same sights has

had the result of filling my heart with weariness and disgust, just as one would feel were one to go every

"For the last thirty years I have been rising at the same hour; and, at the same restaurant, for thirty years, I

have been eating at the same hours the same dishes brought me by different waiters.

"I have tried travel. The loneliness which one feels in strange places terrified me. I felt so alone, so small on

"But here the unchanging expression of my furniture, which has stood for thirty years in the same place, the

smell of my apartments (for, with time, each dwelling takes on a particular odor) each night, these and other

"Everything repeats itself endlessly. The way in which I put my key in the lock, the place where I always find

my matches, the first object which meets my eye when I enter the room, make me feel like jumping out of the

window and putting an end to those monotonous events from which we can never escape.

"Each day, when I shave, I feel an inordinate desire to cut my throat; and my face, which I see in the little

mirror, always the same, with soap on my cheeks, has several times made me weak from sadness.

"Now I even hate to be with people whom I used to meet with pleasure; I know them so well, I can tell just

what they are going to say and what I am going to answer. Each brain is like a circus, where the same horse

keeps circling around eternally. We must circle round always, around the same ideas, the same joys, the same

"The fog was terrible this evening. It enfolded the boulevard, where the street lights were dimmed and looked

like smoking candles. A heavier weight than usual oppressed me. Perhaps my digestion was bad.

"For good digestion is everything in life. It gives the inspiration to the artist, amorous desires to young

people, clear ideas to thinkers, the joy of life to everybody, and it also allows one to eat heartily (which is one

of the greatest pleasures). A sick stomach induces scepticism unbelief, nightmares and the desire for death. I

have often noticed this fact. Perhaps I would not kill myself, if my digestion had been good this evening.

"When I sat down in the armchair where I have been sitting every day for thirty years, I glanced around me,

and just then I was seized by such a terrible distress that I thought I must go mad.

"I tried to think of what I could do to run away from myself. Every occupation struck me as being worse even

"For a long time I have been thinking of clearing out my drawers; for, for the last thirty years, I have been

throwing my letters and bills pellmell into the same desk, and this confusion has often caused me

considerable trouble. But I feel such moral and physical laziness at the sole idea of putting anything in order

"I therefore opened my desk, intending to choose among my old papers and destroy the majority of them.

"At first I was bewildered by this array of documents, yellowed by age, then I chose one.

"And if, perchance, you should, take the contents by the handful, close your eyes that you may not read a

word, so that you may not recognize some forgotten handwriting which may plunge you suddenly into a sea

of memories; carry these papers to the fire; and when they are in ashes, crush them to an invisible powder, or

"The first letters which I read did not interest me greatly. They were recent, and came from living men whom

I still meet quite often, and whose presence does not move me to any great extent. But all at once one

envelope made me start. My name was traced on it in a large, bold handwriting; and suddenly tears came to

my eyes. That letter was from my dearest friend, the companion of my youth, the confidant of my hopes; and

he appeared before me so clearly, with his pleasant smile and his hand outstretched, that a cold shiver ran

down my back. Yes, yes, the dead come back, for I saw him! Our memory is a more perfect world than the

"With trembling hand and dimmed eyes I reread everything that he told me, and in my poor sobbing heart I

felt a wound so painful that I began to groan as a man whose bones are slowly being crushed.

"Then I travelled over my whole life, just as one travels along a river. I recognized people, so long forgotten

that I no longer knew their names. Their faces alone lived in me. In my mother's letters I saw again the old

servants, the shape of our house and the little insignificant odds and ends which cling to our minds.

"Yes, I suddenly saw again all my mother's old gowns, the different styles which she adopted and the several

ways in which she dressed her hair. She haunted me especially in a silk dress, trimmed with old lace; and I

remembered something she said one day when she was wearing this dress. She said: 'Robert, my child, if you

"Then, opening another drawer, I found myself face to face with memories of tender passions: a

dancingpump, a torn handkerchief, even a garter, locks of hair and dried flowers. Then the sweet romances

of my life, whose living heroines are now whitehaired, plunged me into the deep melancholy of things. Oh,

the young brows where blond locks curl, the caress of the hands, the glance which speaks, the hearts which

beat, that smile which promises the lips, those lips which promise the embrace! And the first kissthat

endless kiss which makes you close your eyes, which drowns all thought in the immeasurable joy of

"Taking these old pledges of former love in both my hands, I covered them with furious caresses, and in my

soul, torn by these memories, I saw them each again at the hour of surrender; and I suffered a torture more

"One last letter remained. It was written by me and dictated fifty years ago by my writing teacher. Here it is:

"'I am seven years old today. It is the age of reason. I take advantage of it to thank you for having brought

"It is all over. I had gone back to the beginning, and suddenly I turned my glance on what remained to me of

life. I saw hideous and lonely old age, and approaching infirmities, and everything over and gone. And

"My revolver is here, on the table. I am loading it . . . . Never reread your old letters!"

And that is how many men come to kill themselves; and we search in vain to discover some great sorrow in

The old doctor sat by the fireside, talking to his fair patient who was lying on the lounge. There was nothing

much the matter with her, except that she had one of those little feminine ailments from which pretty women

"No, doctor," she said; "I shall never be able to understand a woman deceiving her husband. Even allowing

that she does not love him, that she pays no heed to her vows and promises, how can she give herself to

another man? How can she conceal the intrigue from other people's eyes? How can it be possible to love

The doctor smiled, and replied: "It is perfectly easy, and I can assure you that a woman does not think of all

"As for dissimulation, all women have plenty of it on hand for such occasions, and the simplest of them are

wonderful, and extricate themselves from the greatest dilemmas in a remarkable manner."

"No, doctor," she said; "one never thinks until after it has happened of what one ought to have done in a

critical situation, and women are certainly more liable than men to lose their head on such occasions:"

The doctor raised his hands. "After it has happened, you say! Now I will tell you something that happened to

"It happened in a provincial town, and one night when I was asleep, in that deep first sleep from which it is so

difficult to rouse us, it seemed to me, in my dreams, as if the bells in the town were sounding a fire alarm, and

I woke up with a start. It was my own bell, which was ringing wildly, and as my footman did not seem to be

answering the door, I, in turn, pulled the bell at the head of my bed, and soon I heard a banging, and steps in

the silent house, and Jean came into my room, and handed me a letter which said: 'Madame Lelievre begs Dr.

"I thought for a few moments, and then I said to myself: 'A nervous attack, vapors; nonsense, I am too tired.'

And so I replied: 'As Dr. Simeon is not at all well, he must beg Madame Lelievre to be kind enough to call in

his colleague, Monsieur Bonnet.' I put the note into an envelope and went to sleep again, but about half an

hour later the street bell rang again, and Jean came to me and said: 'There is somebody downstairs; I do not

quite know whether it is a man or a woman, as the individual is so wrapped up, but they wish to speak to you

immediately. They say it is a matter of life and death for two people.' Whereupon I sat up in bed and told him

"A kind of black phantom appeared and raised her veil as soon as Jean had left the room. It was Madame

Berthe Lelievre, quite a young woman, who had been married for three years to a large a merchant in the

"She was terribly pale, her face was contracted as the faces of insane people are, occasionally, and her hands

trembled violently. Twice she tried to speak without being able to utter a sound, but at last she stammered

out: 'Comequickquick, doctor. Comemyfriend has just died in my bedroom.' She stopped, half

suffocated with emotion, and then went on: 'My husband will be coming home from the club very soon.'

"I jumped out of bed without even considering that I was only in my nightshirt, and dressed myself in a few

moments, and then I said: 'Did you come a short time ago?' 'No,' she said, standing like a statue petrified with

horror. 'It was my servantshe knows.' And then, after a short silence, she went on: 'I was thereby his

side.' And she uttered a sort of cry of horror, and after a fit of choking, which made her gasp, she wept

violently, and shook with spasmodic sobs for a minute: or two. Then her tears suddenly ceased, as if by an

internal fire, and with an air of tragic calmness, she said: 'Let us make haste.'

"I was ready, but exclaimed: 'I quite forgot to order my carriage.' 'I have one,' she said; 'it is his, which was

waiting for him!' She wrapped herself up, so as to completely conceal her face, and we started.

"When she was by my side in the carriage she suddenly seized my hand, and crushing it in her delicate

fingers, she said, with a shaking voice, that proceeded from a distracted heart: 'Oh! if you only knew, if you

only knew what I am suffering! I loved him, I have loved him distractedly, like a madwoman, for the last six

months.' 'Is anyone up in your house?' I asked. 'No, nobody except those, who knows everything.'

"We stopped at the door, and evidently everybody was asleep. We went in without making any noise, by

means of her latchkey, and walked upstairs on tiptoe. The frightened servant was sitting on the top of the

stairs with a lighted candle by her side, as she was afraid to remain with the dead man, and I went into the

room, which was in great disorder. Wet towels, with which they had bathed the young man's temples, were

lying on the floor, by the side of a washbasin and a glass, while a strong smell of vinegar pervaded the room.

"The dead man's body was lying at full length in the middle of the room, and I went up to it, looked at it, and

touched it. I opened the eyes and felt the hands, and then, turning to the two women, who were shaking as if

they were freezing, I said to them: 'Help me to lift him on to the bed.' When we had laid him gently on it, I

listened to his heart and put a lookingglass to his lips, and then said: 'It is all over.' It was a terrible sight!

"I looked at the man, and said: 'You ought to arrange his hair a little.' The girl went and brought her mistress'

comb and brush, but as she was trembling, and pulling out his long, matted hair in doing it, Madame Lelievre

took the comb out of her hand, and arranged his hair as if she were caressing him. She parted it, brushed his

beard, rolled his mustaches gently round her fingers, then, suddenly, letting go of his hair, she took the dead

man's inert head in her hands and looked for a long time in despair at the dead face, which no longer could

smile at her, and then, throwing herself on him, she clasped him in her arms and kissed him ardently. Her

kisses fell like blows on his closed mouth and eyes, his forehead and temples; and then, putting her lips to his

ear, as if he could still hear her, and as if she were about to whisper something to him, she said several times,

"Just then the clock struck twelve, and I started up. 'Twelve o'clock!' I exclaimed. 'That is the time when the

club closes. Come, madame, we have not a moment to lose!' She started up, and I said:

'We must carry him into the drawingroom.' And when we had done this, I placed him on a sofa, and lit the

chandeliers, and just then the front door was opened and shut noisily. 'Rose, bring me the basin and the

towels, and make the room look tidy. Make haste, for Heaven's sake! Monsieur Lelievre is coming in.'

"I heard his steps on the stairs, and then his hands feeling along the walls. 'Come here, my dear fellow,' I said;

"And the astonished husband appeared in the door with a cigar in his mouth, and said: 'What is the matter?

What is the meaning of this?' 'My dear friend,' I said, going up to him, 'you find us in great embarrassment. I

had remained late, chatting with your wife and our friend, who had brought me in his carriage, when he

suddenly fainted, and in spite of all we have done, he has remained unconscious for two hours. I did not like

to call in strangers, and if you will now help me downstairs with him, I shall be able to attend to him better at

"The husband, who was surprised, but quite unsuspicious, took off his hat, and then he took his rival, who

would be quite inoffensive for the future, under the arms. I got between his two legs, as if I had been a horse

between the shafts, and we went downstairs, while his wife held a light for us. When we got outside I stood

the body up, so as to deceive the coachman, and said: 'Come, my friend; it is nothing; you feel better already I

expect. Pluck up your courage, and make an effort. It will soon be over.' But as I felt that he was slipping out

of my hands, I gave him a slap on the shoulder, which sent him forward and made him fall into the carriage,

and then I got in after him. Monsieur Lelievre, who was rather alarmed, said to me: 'Do you think it is

anything serious?' To which I replied: 'No,' with a smile, as I looked at his wife, who had put her arm into that

"I shook hands with them and told my coachman to start, and during the whole drive the dead man kept

falling against me. When we got to his house I said that he had become unconscious on the way home, and

helped to carry him upstairs, where I certified that he was dead, and acted another comedy to his distracted

The doctor ceased, though he was still smiling, and the young woman, who was in a very nervous state, said:

They had just dined together, five old friends, a writer, a doctor and three rich bachelors without any

They had talked about everything, and a feeling of lassitude came over them, that feeling which precedes and

leads to the departure of guests after festive gatherings. One of those present, who had for the last five

minutes been gazing silently at the surging boulevard dotted with gaslamps, with its rattling vehicles, said

"And the nights too," assented the guest who sat next to him. "I sleep very little; pleasures fatigue me;

conversation is monotonous. Never do I come across a new idea, and I feel, before talking to any one, a

violent longing to say nothing and to listen to nothing. I don't know what to do with my evenings."

"I would pay a great deal for anything that would help me to pass just two pleasant hours every day."

The writer, who had just thrown his overcoat across his arm, turned round to them, and said:

"The man who could discover a new vice and introduce it among his fellow creatures, even if it were to

shorten their lives, would render a greater service to humanity than the man who found the means of securing

"Yes, but it is not so easy to discover it. Men have however crudely, been seeking forand working for the

object you refer to since the beginning of the world. The men who came first reached perfection at once in

"If we could only sleep, sleep well, without feeling hot or cold, sleep with that perfect unconsciousness we

"Because dreams are not always pleasant; they are always fantastic, improbable, disconnected; and because

when we are asleep we cannot have the sort of dreams we like. We ought to dream waking."

"My dear fellow, in order to dream when you are awake, you need great power and great exercise of will, and

when you try to do it, great weariness is the result. Now, real dreaming, that journey of our thoughts through

delightful visions, is assuredly the sweetest experience in the world; but it must come naturally, it must not be

provoked in a painful, manner, and must be accompanied by absolute bodily comfort. This power of

"Ah! yes, I knowhasheesh, opium, green teaartificial paradises. I have read Baudelaire, and I even

"No; ether, nothing but ether; and I would suggest that you literary men should use it sometimes."

"Let us put aside big words, shall we not? I am not talking of medicine or morality; I am talking of pleasure.

You give yourselves up every day to excesses which consume your lives. I want to indicate to you a new

sensation, possible only to intelligent menlet us say even very intelligent mendangerous, like everything

else that overexcites our organs, but exquisite. I might add that you would require a certain preparation, that

is to say, practice, to feel in all their completeness the singular effects of ether.

"They are different from the effects of hasheesh, of opium, or morphia, and they cease as soon as the

absorption of the drug is interrupted, while the other generators of day dreams continue their action for hours.

"I am now going to try to analyze these feelings as clearly as possible. But the thing is not easy, so facile, so

"It was when I was attacked by violent neuralgia that I made use of this remedy, which since then I have,

"I had acute pains in my head and neck, and an intolerable heat of the skin, a feverish restlessness. I took up a

"At the end of some minutes I thought I heard a vague murmur, which ere long became a sort of humming,

and it seemed to me that all the interior of my body had become light, light as air, that it was dissolving into

"Then came a sort of torpor, a sleepy sensation of comfort, in spite of the pains which still continued, but

which had ceased to make themselves felt. It was one of those sensations which we are willing to endure and

"Soon the strange and delightful sense of emptiness which I felt in my chest extended to my limbs, which, in

their turn, became light, as light as if the flesh and the bones had been melted and the skin only were left, the

skin necessary to enable me to realize the sweetness of living, of bathing in this sensation of wellbeing.

Then I perceived that I was no longer suffering. The pain had gone, melted away, evaporated. And I heard

voices, four voices, two dialogues, without understanding what was said. At one time there were only

indistinct sounds, at another time a word reached my ear. But I recognized that this was only the humming I

had heard before, but emphasized. I was not asleep; I was not awake; I comprehended, I felt, I reasoned with

the utmost clearness and depth, with extraordinary energy and intellectual pleasure, with a singular

"It was not like the dreams caused by hasheesh or the somewhat sickly visions that come from opium; it was

an amazing acuteness of reasoning, a new way of seeing, judging and appreciating the things of life, and with

"And the old image of the Scriptures suddenly came back to my mind. It seemed to me that I had tasted of the

Tree of Knowledge, that all the mysteries were unveiled, so much did I find myself under the sway of a new,

strange and irrefutable logic. And arguments, reasonings, proofs rose up in a heap before my brain only to be

immediately displaced by some stronger proof, reasoning, argument. My head had, in fact, become a

battleground of ideas. I was a superior being, armed with invincible intelligence, and I experienced a huge

"It lasted a long, long time. I still kept inhaling the ether from my flagon. Suddenly I perceived that it was

Noon had just struck. The school door opened and the youngsters darted out, jostling each other in their haste

to get out quickly. But instead of promptly dispersing and going home to dinner as usual, they stopped a few

The fact was that, that morning, Simon, the son of La Blanchotte, had, for the first time, attended school.

They had all of them in their families heard talk of La Blanchotte; and, although in public she was welcome

enough, the mothers among themselves treated her with a somewhat disdainful compassion, which the

As for Simon himself, they did not know him, for he never went out, and did not run about with them in the

streets of the village, or along the banks of the river. And they did not care for him; so it was with a certain

delight, mingled with considerable astonishment, that they met and repeated to each other what had been said

by a lad of fourteen or fifteen who appeared to know all about it, so sagaciously did he wink. "You

He was seven or eight years old, rather pale, very neat, with a timid and almost awkward manner.

He was starting home to his mother's house when the groups of his schoolmates, whispering and watching

him with the mischievous and heartless eyes of children bent upon playing a nasty trick, gradually closed in

around him and ended by surrounding him altogether. There he stood in their midst, surprised and

embarrassed, not understanding what they were going to do with him. But the lad who had brought the news,

The lad shouted at him: "One is named Simon somethingthat is not a nameSimon indeed."

The urchins began to laugh. The triumphant tormentor cried: "You can see plainly that he has no papa."

A deep silence ensued. The children were dumfounded by this extraordinary, impossible, monstrous thinga

boy who had not a papa; they looked upon him as a phenomenon, an unnatural being, and they felt that

hitherto inexplicable contempt of their mothers for La Blanchotte growing upon them. As for Simon, he had

leaned against a tree to avoid falling, and he remained as if prostrated by an irreparable disaster. He sought to

explain, but could think of nothingto say to refute this horrible charge that he had no papa. At last he

Simon was silent, he did not know. The children roared, tremendously excited; and those country boys, little

more than animals, experienced that cruel craving which prompts the fowls of a farmyard to destroy one of

their number as soon as it is wounded. Simon suddenly espied a little neighbor, the son of a widow, whom he

"He is dead," declared the brat, with superb dignity; "he is in the cemetery, is my papa."

A murmur of approval rose among the little wretches as if this fact of possessing a papa dead in a cemetery

had caused their comrade to grow big enough to crush the other one who had no papa at all. And these boys,

whose fathers were for the most part bad men, drunkards, thieves, and who beat their wives, jostled each

other to press closer and closer, as though they, the legitimate ones, would smother by their pressure one who

The boy who chanced to be next Simon suddenly put his tongue out at him with a mocking air and shouted at

Simon seized him by the hair with both hands and set to work to disable his legs with kicks, while he bit his

cheek ferociously. A tremendous struggle ensued between the two combatants, and Simon found himself

beaten, torn, bruised, rolled on the ground in the midst of the ring of applauding schoolboys. As he arose,

mechanically brushing with his hand his little blouse all covered with dust, some one shouted at him:

Then he felt a great sinking at his heart. They were stronger than he was, they had beaten him, and he had no

answer to give them, for he knew well that it was true that he had no papa. Full of pride, he attempted for

some moments to struggle against the tears which were choking him. He had a feeling of suffocation, and

then without any sound he commenced to weep, with great shaking sobs. A ferocious joy broke out among

his enemies, and, with one accord, just like savages in their fearful festivals, they took each other by the hand

But suddenly Simon ceased sobbing. He became ferocious. There were stones under his feet; he picked them

up and with all his strength hurled them at his tormentors. Two or three were struck and rushed off yelling,

and so formidable did he appear that the rest became panicstricken. Cowards, as the mob always is in

presence of an exasperated man, they broke up and fled. Left alone, the little fellow without a father set off

running toward the fields, for a recollection had been awakened in him which determined his soul to a great

He remembered, in fact, that eight days before, a poor devil who begged for his livelihood had thrown

himself into the water because he had no more money. Simon had been there when they fished him out again;

and the wretched man, who usually seemed to him so miserable, and ugly, had then struck him as being so

peaceful with his pale cheeks, his long drenched beard, and his open eyes full of calm. The bystanders had

And Simon wished to drown himself also, because he had no father, just like the wretched being who had no

He reached the water and watched it flowing. Some fish were sporting briskly in the clear stream and

occasionally made a little bound and caught the flies flying on the surface. He stopped crying in order to

watch them, for their maneuvers interested him greatly. But, at intervals, as in a tempest intervals of calm

alternate suddenly with tremendous gusts of wind, which snap off the trees and then lose themselves in the

It was very warm, fine weather. The pleasant sunshine warmed the grass. The water shone like a mirror. And

Simon enjoyed some minutes of happiness, of that languor which follows weeping, and felt inclined to fall

A little green frog leaped from under his feet. He endeavored to catch it. It escaped him. He followed it and

lost it three times in succession. At last he caught it by one of its hind legs and began to laugh as he saw the

efforts the creature made to escape. It gathered itself up on its hind legs and then with a violent spring

suddenly stretched them out as stiff as two bars; while it beat the air with its front legs as though they were

hands, its round eyes staring in their circle of yellow. It reminded him of a toy made of straight slips of wood

nailed zigzag one on the other; which by a similar movement regulated the movements of the little soldiers

fastened thereon. Then he thought of his home, and then of his mother, and, overcome by sorrow, he again

began to weep. A shiver passed over him. He knelt down and said his prayers as before going to bed. But he

was unable to finish them, for tumultuous, violent sobs shook his whole frame. He no longer thought, he no

Suddenly a heavy hand was placed upon his shoulder, and a rough voice asked him:

Simon turned round. A tall workman with a beard and black curly hair was staring at him goodnaturedly. He

Then the workman became serious. He had recognized La Blanchotte's son, and, although himself a new

"Well," said he, "console yourself, my boy, and come with me home to your mother. They will give youa

And so they started on the way, the big fellow holding the little fellow by the hand, and the man smiled, for

he was not sorry to see this Blanchotte, who was, it was said, one of the prettiest girls of the countryside, and,

perhaps, he was saying to himself, at the bottom of his heart, that a lass who had erred might very well err

A woman appeared, and the workman instantly left off smiling, for he saw at once that there was no fooling

to be done with the tall pale girl who stood austerely at her door as though to defend from one man the

threshold of that house where she had already been betrayed by another. Intimidated, his cap in his hand, he

"See, madame, I have brought you back your little boy who had lost himself near the river."

But Simon flung his arms about his mother's neck and told her, as he again began to cry:

"No, mamma, I wished to drown myself, because the others had beaten me had beaten mebecause I

A burning redness covered the young woman's cheeks; and, hurt to the quick, she embraced her child

passionately, while the tears coursed down her face. The man, much moved, stood there, not knowing how to

A deep silence ensued. La Blanchotte, dumb and tortured with shame, leaned herself against the wall, both

her hands upon her heart. The child, seeing that no answer was made him, replied:

"What is your name," went on the child, "so that I may tell the others when they wish to know your name?"

Simon was silent a moment so that he might get the name well into his head; then he stretched out his arms,

The workman, lifting him from the ground, kissed him hastily on both cheeks, and then walked away very

quickly with great strides. When the child returned to school next day he was received with a spiteful laugh,

and at the end of school, when the lads were on the point of recommencing, Simon threw these words at their

"Philip who? Philip what? What on earth is Philip? Where did you pick up your Philip?"

Simon answered nothing; and, immovable in his faith, he defied them with his eye, ready to be martyred

rather than fly before them. The school master came to his rescue and he returned home to his mother.

During three months, the tall workman, Philip, frequently passed by La Blanchotte's house, and sometimes he

made bold to speak to her when he saw her sewing near the window. She answered him civilly, always

sedately, never joking with him, nor permitting him to enter her house. Notwithstanding, being, like all men,

a bit of a coxcomb, he imagined that she was often rosier than usual when she chatted with him.

But a lost reputation is so difficult to regain and always remains so fragile that, in spite of the shy reserve of

As for Simon he loved his new papa very much, and walked with him nearly every evening when the day's

work was done. He went regularly to school, and mixed with great dignity with his schoolfellows without

"That can very well be," exclaimed the urchin with a sneer, "but that is not being your papa altogether."

La Blanchotte's little one bowed his head and went off dreaming in the direction of the forge belonging to old

Loizon, where Philip worked. This forge was as though buried beneath trees. It was very dark there; the red

glare of a formidable furnace alone lit up with great flashes five blacksmiths; who hammered upon their

anvils with a terrible din. They were standing enveloped in flame, like demons, their eyes fixed on the

redhot iron they were pounding; and their dull ideas rose and fell with their hammers.

Simon entered without being noticed, and went quietly to pluck his friend by the sleeve. The latter turned

round. All at once the work came to a standstill, and all the men looked on, very attentive. Then, in the midst

"Say, Philip, the Michaude boy told me just now that you were not altogether my papa."

No one laughed. Philip remained standing, leaning his forehead upon the back of his great hands, which

supported the handle of his hammer standing upright upon the anvil. He mused. His four companions

watched him, and Simon, a tiny mite among these giants, anxiously waited. Suddenly, one of the smiths,

"La Blanchotte is a good, honest girl, and upright and steady in spite of her misfortune, and would make a

"Is it the girl's fault if she went wrong? She had been promised marriage; and I know more than one who is

"How hard she has toiled, poor thing, to bring up her child all alone, and how she has wept all these years she

Then nothing was heard but the bellows which fanned the fire of the furnace. Philip hastily bent himself

"Go and tell your mother that I am coming to speak to her this evening." Then he pushed the child out by the

shoulders. He returned to his work, and with a single blow the five hammers again fell upon their anvils.

Thus they wrought the iron until nightfall, strong, powerful, happy, like contented hammers. But just as the

great bell of a cathedral resounds upon feast days above the jingling of the other bells, so Philip's hammer,

sounding above the rest, clanged second after second with a deafening uproar. And he stood amid the flying

The sky was full of stars as he knocked at La Blanchotte's door. He had on his Sunday blouse, a clean shirt,

and his beard was trimmed. The young woman showed herself upon the threshold, and said in a grieved tone:

"You understand, do you not, that it will not do for me to be talked about again."

No voice replied to him, but he believed that he heard in the shadow of the room the sound of a falling body.

He entered quickly; and Simon, who had gone to bed, distinguished the sound of a kiss and some words that

his mother murmured softly. Then, all at once, he found himself lifted up by the hands of his friend, who,

"You will tell them, your schoolmates, that your papa is Philip Remy, the blacksmith, and that he will pull the

On the morrow, when the school was full and lessons were about to begin, little Simon stood up, quite pale

"My papa," said he in a clear voice, "is Philip Remy, the blacksmith, and he has promised to pull the ears of

This time no one laughed, for he was very well known, was Philip Remy, the blacksmith, and was a papa of