selected writings-第40节

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〃That　also　is　true；〃　said　the　others。



Then　no　more　was　heard　save　the　roar　of　the　bellows　which　fanned

the　fire　of　the　furnace。　Philip　hastily　bent　himself　down　to

Simon：



〃Go　and　tell　your　mamma　that　I　shall　come　to　speak　to　her。〃



Then　he　pushed　the　child　out　by　the　shoulders。　He　returned　to　his

work　and　in　unison　the　five　hammers　again　fell　upon　their　anvils。

Thus　they　wrought　the　iron　until　nightfall；　strong；　powerful；

happy；　like　Vulcans　satisfied。　But　as　the　great　bell　of　a

cathedral　resounds　upon　feast　days　above　the　jingling　of　the

other　bells；　so　Philip's　hammer；　dominating　the　noise　of　the

others；　clanged　second　after　second　with　a　deafening　uproar。　His

eye　on　the　fire；　he　plied　his　trade　vigorously；　erect　amid　the

sparks。



The　sky　was　full　of　stars　as　he　knocked　at　La　Blanchotte's　door。

He　had　his　Sunday　blouse　on；　a　fresh　shirt；　and　his　beard　was

trimmed。　The　young　woman　showed　herself　upon　the　threshold　and

said　in　a　grieved　tone：



〃It　is　ill　to　come　thus　when　night　has　fallen；　Mr。　Philip。〃



He　wished　to　answer；　but　stammered　and　stood　confused　before　her。



She　resumed：



〃And　you　understand　quite　well　that　it　will　not　do　that　I　should

be　talked　about　any　more。〃



Then　he　said　all　at　once：



〃What　does　that　matter　to　me；　if　you　will　be　my　wife！〃



No　voice　replied　to　him；　but　he　believed　that　he　heard　in　the

shadow　of　the　room　the　sound　of　a　body　falling。　He　entered　very

quickly；　and　Simon；　who　had　gone　to　his　bed；　distinguished　the

sound　of　a　kiss　and　some　words　that　his　mother　said　very　softly。

Then　he　suddenly　found　himself　lifted　up　by　the　hands　of　his

friend；　who；　holding　him　at　the　length　of　his　herculean　arms；

exclaimed　to　him：



〃You　will　tell　your　school…fellows　that　your　papa　is　Philip　Remy；

the　blacksmith；　and　that　he　will　pull　the　ears　of　all　who　do　you

any　harm。〃



On　the　morrow；　when　the　school　was　full　and　lessons　were　about　to

begin；　little　Simon　stood　up　quite　pale　with　trembling　lips：



〃My　papa；〃　said　he　in　a　clear　voice；　〃is　Philip　Remy；　the

blacksmith；　and　he　has　promised　to　box　the　ears　of　all　who　do　me

any　harm。〃



This　time　no　one　laughed　any　longer；　for　he　was　very　well　known；

was　Philip　Remy；　the　blacksmith；　and　he　was　a　papa　of　whom　anyone

in　the　world　would　be　proud。







WAITER；　A　〃BOCK〃＇1＇



＇1＇　Bavarian　beer。



Why　on　this　particular　evening；　did　I　enter　a　certain　beer　shop？

I　cannot　explain　it。　It　was　bitterly　cold。　A　fine　rain；　a　watery

mist　floated　about；　veiling　the　gas　jets　in　a　transparent　fog；

making　the　pavements　under　the　shadow　of　the　shop　fronts　glitter；

which　revealed　the　soft　slush　and　the　soiled　feet　of　the

passers…by。



I　was　going　nowhere　in　particular；　was　simply　having　a　short　walk

after　dinner。　I　had　passed　the　Credit　Lyonnais；　the　Rue　Vivienne；

and　several　other　streets。　Suddenly　I　descried　a　large　cafe；

which　was　more　than　half　full。　I　walked　inside；　with　no　object　in

mind。　I　was　not　the　least　thirsty。



By　a　searching　glance　I　detected　a　place　where　I　would　not　be　too

much　crowded。　So　I　went　and　sat　down　by　the　side　of　a　man　who

seemed　to　me　to　be　old；　and　who　smoked　a　half…penny　clay　pipe；

which　　had　become　as　black　as　coal。　From　six　to　eight　beer

saucers　were　piled　up　on　the　table　in　front　of　him；　indicating

the　number　of　〃bocks〃　he　had　already　absorbed。　With　that　same

glance　I　had　recognized　in　him　a　〃regular　toper；〃　one　of　those

frequenters　of　beer…houses；　who　come　in　the　morning　as　soon　as

the　place　is　open；　and　only　go　away　in　the　evening　when　it　is

about　to　close。　He　was　dirty；　bald　to　about　the　middle　of　the

cranium；　while　his　long　gray　hair　fell　over　the　neck　of　his　frock

coat。　His　clothes；　much　too　large　for　him；　appeared　to　have　been

made　for　him　at　a　time　when　he　was　very　stout。　One　could　guess

that　his　pantaloons　were　not　held　up　by　braces；　and　that　this　man

could　not　take　ten　paces　without　having　to　pull　them　up　and

readjust　them。　Did　he　wear　a　vest？　The　mere　thought　of　his　boots

and　the　feet　they　enveloped　filled　me　with　horror。　The　frayed

cuffs　were　as　black　at　the　edges　as　were　his　nails。



As　soon　as　I　had　sat　down　near　him；　this　queer　creature　said　to

me　in　a　tranquil　tone　of　voice：



〃How　goes　it　with　you？〃



I　turned　sharply　round　to　him　and　closely　scanned　his　features；

whereupon　he　continued：



〃I　see　you　do　not　recognize　me。〃



〃No；　I　do　not。〃



〃Des　Barrets。〃




I　was　stupefied。　It　was　Count　Jean　des　Barrets；　my　old　college

chum。



I　seized　him　by　the　hand；　so　dumfounded　that　I　could　find　nothing

to　say。　I；　at　length；　managed　to　stammer　out：



〃And　you；　how　goes　it　with　you？〃



He　responded　placidly：



〃With　me？　Just　as　I　like。〃



He　became　silent。　I　wanted　to　be　friendly；　and　I　selected　this

phrase：



〃What　are　you　doing　now？〃



〃You　see　what　I　am　doing；〃　he　answered；　quite　resignedly。



I　felt　my　face　getting　red。　I　insisted：



〃But　every　day？〃



〃Every　day　is　alike　to　me；〃　was　his　response；　accompanied　with　a

thick　puff　of　tobacco　smoke。



He　then　tapped　on　the　top　of　the　marble　table　with　a　sou；　to

attract　the　attention　of　the　waiter；　and　called　out：



〃Waiter；　two　'bocks。'　〃



A　voice　in　the　distance　repeated：



〃Two　'bocks；'　instead　of　four。〃



Another　voice；　more　distant　still；　shouted　out：



〃Here　they　are；　sir；　here　they　are。〃



Immediately　there　appeared　a　man　with　a　white　apron；　carrying　two

'bocks；'　which　he　set　down　foaming　on　the　table；　the　foam　running

over　the　edge；　on　to　the　sandy　floor。



Des　Barrets　emptied　his　glass　at　a　single　draught　and　replaced　it

on　the　table；　sucking　in　the　drops　of　beer　that　had　been　left　on

his　mustache。　He　next　asked：



〃What　is　there　new？〃



〃I　know　of　nothing　new；　worth　mentioning；　really；〃　I　stammered：

〃But　nothing　has　grown　old　for　me；　I　am　a　commercial　man。〃



In　an　equable　tone　of　voice；　he　said：



〃Indeeddoes　that　amuse　you？〃



〃No；　but　what　do　you　mean　by　that？　Surely　you　must　do　something！〃



〃What　do　you　mean　by　that？〃



〃I　only　mean；　how　do　you　pass　your　time！〃



〃What's　the　use　of　occupying　myself　with　anything。　For　my　part；　I

do　nothing　at　all；　as　you　see；　never　anything。　When　one　has　not

got　a　sou　one　can　understand　why　one　has　to　go　to　work。　What　is

the　good　of　working？　Do　you　work　for　yourself；　or　for　others？　If

you　work　for　yourself　you　do　it　for　your　own　amusement；　which　is

all　right；　if　you　work　for　others；　you　reap　nothing　but

ingratitude。〃



Then　sticking　his　pipe　into　his　mouth；　he　called　out　anew：



〃Waiter；　a　'bock。'　It　makes　me　thirsty　to　keep　calling　so。　I　am

not　accustomed　to　that　sort　of　thing。　Yes；　I　do　nothing；　I　let

things　slide；　and　I　am　growing　old。　In　dying　I　shall　have　nothing

to　regret。　If　so；　I　should　remember　nothing；　outside　this

public…house。　I　have　no　wife；　no　children；　no　cares；　no　sorrows；

nothing。　That　is　the　very　best　thing　that　could　happen　to　one。〃



He　then　emptied　the　glass　which　had　been　brought　him；　passed　his

tongue　over　his　lips；　and　resumed　his　pipe。



I　looked　at　him　stupefied　and　asked　him：



〃But　you　have　not　always　been　like　that？〃



〃Pardon　me；　sir；　ever　since　I　left　college。〃



〃It　is　not　a　proper　life　to　lead；　my　dear　sir；　it　is　simply

horrible。　Come；　you　must　indeed　have　done　something；　you　must

have　loved　something；　you　must　have　friends。〃



〃No；　I　get　up　at　noon；　I　come　here；　I　have　my　breakfast；　I　drink

my　'bock'；　I　remain　until　the　evening；　I　have　my　dinner；　I　drink

'bock。'　Then　about　one　in　the　morning；　I　return　to　my　couch；

because　the　place　closes　up。　And　it　is　this　latter　that　embitters

me　more　than　anything。　For　the　last　ten　years；　I　have　passed

six…tenths　of　my　time　on　this　bench；　in　my　corner；　and　the　other

four…tenths　in　my　bed；　never　changing。　I　talk　sometimes　with　the

habitues。〃



〃But　on　arriving　in　Paris　what　did　you　do　at　first？〃



〃I　paid　my　devoirs　to　the　Cafe　de　Medicis。〃



〃What　next？〃



〃Next？　I　crossed　the　water　and　came　here。〃



〃Why　did　you　take　even　that　trouble？〃



〃What　do　you　mean？　One　cannot　remain　all　one's　life　in　the　Latin

Quarter。　The　students　make　too　much　noise。　But　I　do　not　move

about　any　longer。　Waiter；　a　'bock。'　〃



I　now　began　to　think　that　he　was　making　fun　of　me；　and　I

continued：



〃Come　now；　be　frank。　You　have　been　the　victim　of　some　great

sorrow；　despair　in　love；　no　doubt！　It　is　easy　to　see　that　you　are

a　man　whom　misfortune　has　hit　hard。　What　age　are　you？〃



〃I　am　thirty　years　of　age；　but　I　look　to　be　forty…five　at　least。〃



I　looked　him　straight　in　the　face。　His　shrunken　figure；　badly

cared　for；　gave　one　the　impression　that　he　was　an　old　man。　On　the

summit　of　his　cranium；　a　few　long　hairs　shot　straight　up　from　a

skin　of　doubtful　cleanness。　He　had　enormous　eyelashes；　a　large

mustache；　and　a　thick　beard。　Suddenly　I　had　a　kind　of　vision；　I

know　not　wh