party sometimes revenged the decision of the judge by thrashing him; but, far from giving me a distaste for my impartiality, the blows confirmed it; it was like the nail well placed, the more it is struck the deeper it is driven.

The same instinct inclined me to do only that which I believed permissible and to say only that which I knew. I suffered for it more than once, above all in an adventure with the chestnut vender.

He was a peasant who often traversed our quarter with a donkey laden with fruit and nuts, and stopped at the lodging of a fellow countryman who lived opposite our house. Wine-drinking often prolonged his visit, and, grouped before the donkey, we regarded his burden with envious eyes. One day the temptation was too strong. The donkey bore a sack, through a hole in which we could see the fine, glistening chestnuts, which had the appearance of putting themselves at the window to provoke our greediness. The boldest lad winked knowingly, and one proposed enlarging the hole. The thing was deliberated; I was the only one to oppose. As the majority made the law, they proceeded to the execution, when I threw myself before the sack, crying that no one should touch it. I wished to give reasons to support my position, but a fist-blow closed my mouth. I struck back, and a general scuffle resulted, which was my Waterloo. Overwhelmed by numbers I drew, in my downfall, the sack which I defended, and the peasant, whom the noise of the strife had attracted, found me under the feet of the donkey in the midst of his scattered chestnuts. Seeing my adver

saries fleeing, he divined what they had wished to do, took me for their accomplice, and, without more enlightenment, set himself to punishing me for the theft which I had prevented. I protested in vain; the vender believed that he avenged his merchandise, and had, otherwise, drunk too much to understand. I escaped from his hands bruised, bloody, and furious.

My companions did not fail to rail at my scruples so badly recompensed; but I had an obstinate will; instead of being discouraged I became still more set in my way. After all, if my bruises were painful they did not make me ashamed, and the mockers at my conduct esteemed me for it. This confirmed me. I have often thought since that in beating me the chestnut-man had rendered me, without knowing it, the service of a friend. Not alone had he instructed me that it is necessary to do right for right's sake, not for recompense, but he had also furnished the occasion for showing a character. I there began, thanks to him, a reputation which later I wished to continue; for if good renown is a recompense it is also a check; the good which others think of us obliges us more often to merit it.

Aside from honesty I had, for the rest, all the defects of a street education. No one took care of me, and I grew, like the wayside herbs, by the grace of God. My mother was occupied all the day with the care of housekeeping, and my father entered the home only in the evening after work. I was for both only a mouth the more to feed. They wished to see me live and not to suffer; their foresight went no farther; it was their manner of loving. Want, which always kept near the

threshold, sometimes pushed the door and entered, but I do not recall having felt it. When the bread was short they considered my hunger first; and father and mother lived from the rest as they could.

Another recollection of the same period is that of our Sunday walks outside the Barrière. We used to go and sit in some great hall full of people who drank noisily and who often came to blows. I recall still the efforts of my mother and myself to hinder my father from taking part in these quarrels. We often took him away disfigured, and always with great trouble; so these were for me days of torture and fright. One circumstance had rendered them still more odious. I had a little sister named Henriette, a blonde little creature as large as your fist, who slept near me in an osier cradle. I was fond of this innocent being, who laughed on seeing me, and extended its little arms. The Sunday visits beyond the Barrière displeased her still more than me; her cries irritated my father, who often gave way to maledictions against her. One day, weary of her tears, he wished to take her; but he was already slightly drunk; the baby slipped from his hands and fell head-first. As we returned they gave her to me to carry. My father rejoiced in having quieted her, and I, who felt her head balancing upon my shoulder, believed she slept. Yet every now and then she uttered a feeble plaint. Reaching home, they put her in bed, and everybody slept; but the next day I was awakened by loud cries. My mother held Henriette upon her knees, while my father regarded them with crossed arms and lowered head. Little sister had died during the night. Without well

comprehending then what had made her die, I connected her death with our walks outside the Barrière, and this made me hate them still more. After an interruption of some weeks my father wished to resume them, but my mother refused to go, and I was thus delivered.

I was ten years old, and yet no one had thought of giving me any schooling. In this the indifference of my parents was supported by the councils of Mauricet. Mauricet had always been the best friend of my family. A mason, like my father, and from the same province, he had, beyond the influence which old relations give, that which results from a probity without stain, from a proved capacity, and from his well-to-do condition acquired by order and work. They repeated at our house, "Mauricet has said it," as the lawyers repeat, "It is the law." Now Mauricet had a horror of the printed letter.

"What good is it to twist your son in the alphabet?" he often said to my father. "Have I had need of the black book of the schools to make my way? It is neither the pen nor the inkstand, it is the trowel and the mortar-bed, which make the good workman. Wait two years more; then you shall give Peter Henry to me, and, if the devil doesn't interfere, we shall make him take well to the ashlar and the mortar."

My father highly approved; in regard to my mother, she had preferred putting me at school in the hope of seeing me with the little silver cross which the best scholars wore; yet she renounced without much trouble the pride of making me learned; and I should still know how neither to read nor write if the good God had not himself interfered in the matter.

CHAPTER II

THE LITTLE SILVER CROSS

UR friend Mauricet not only worked for others as master-journeyman, but for some time he had attempted little enterprises on his own account which had brought him not a little money and stimulated him to further ventSome one spoke to him of a job

ures.

of masonry for a citizen of Versailles who had before employed him. He mentioned it at our house, and my mother counselled him to write to the man; but Mauricet had a decided repugnance for correspondence; he declared that he would like better to wait until Sunday and then go afoot to Versailles to settle the business. Unhappily, another was more diligent; when he returned to us the Monday following he informed us that the man had signed the contract the evening before his visit. He regretted that Mauricet came too late, as he would have accorded the preference to him. It was a profit of some hundreds of francs lost because of the lack of a letter. The master-journeyman detested paper and ink only the more, which, according to him, always gave the advantage to the intriguers over the good workmen. Of course, it is understood that in the eyes of Mauricet the