A Start in Life [2]
opposite, never dreamed of starting a rival coach on the
Daumartin line.
Though the departures for Isle-Adam professed to take place at a fixed
hour, Pierrotin and his co-rival practised an indulgence in that
respect which won for them the grateful affection of the country-
people, and also violent remonstrances on the part of strangers
accustomed to the regularity of the great lines of public conveyances.
But the two conductors of these vehicles, which were half diligence,
half coucou, were invariably defended by their regular customers. The
afternoon departure at four o'clock usually lagged on till half-past,
while that of the morning, fixed for eight o'clock, was seldom known
to take place before nine. In this respect, however, the system was
elastic. In summer, that golden period for the coaching business, the
rule of departure, rigorous toward strangers, was often relaxed for
country customers. This method not infrequently enabled Pierrotin to
pocket two fares for one place, if a countryman came early and wanted
a seat already booked and paid for by some "bird of passage" who was,
unluckily for himself, a little late. Such elasticity will certainly
not commend itself to purists in morality; but Pierrotin and his
colleague justified it on the varied grounds of "hard times," of their
losses during the winter months, of the necessity of soon getting
better coaches, and of the duty of keeping exactly to the rules
written on the tariff, copies of which were, however, never shown,
unless some chance traveller was obstinate enough to demand it.
Pierrotin, a man about forty years of age, was already the father of a
family. Released from the cavalry on the great disbandment of 1815,
the worthy fellow had succeeded his father, who for many years had
driven a coucou of capricious flight between Paris and Isle-Adam.
Having married the daughter of a small inn-keeper, he enlarged his
business, made it a regular service, and became noted for his
intelligence and a certain military precision. Active and decided in
his ways, Pierrotin (the name seems to have been a sobriquet)
contrived to give, by the vivacity of his countenance, an expression
of sly shrewdness to his ruddy and weather-stained visage which
suggested wit. He was not without that facility of speech which is
acquired chiefly through "seeing life" and other countries. His voice,
by dint of talking to his horses and shouting "Gare!" was rough; but
he managed to tone it down with the bourgeois. His clothing, like that
of all coachmen of the second class, consisted of stout boots, heavy
with nails, made at Isle-Adam, trousers of bottle-green velveteen,
waistcoat of the same, over which he wore, while exercising his
functions, a blue blouse, ornamented on the collar, shoulder-straps
and cuffs, with many-colored embroidery. A cap with a visor covered
his head. His military career had left in Pierrotin's manners and
customs a great respect for all social superiority, and a habit of
obedience to persons of the upper classes; and though he never
willingly mingled with the lesser bourgeoisie, he always respected
women in whatever station of life they belonged. Nevertheless, by dint
of "trundling the world,"--one of his own expressions,--he had come to
look upon those he conveyed as so many walking parcels, who required
less care than the inanimate ones,--the essential object of a coaching
business.
Warned by the general movement which, since the Peace, was
revolutionizing his calling, Pierrotin would not allow himself to be
outdone by the progress of new lights. Since the beginning of the
summer season he had talked much of a certain large coach, ordered
from Farry, Breilmann, and Company, the best makers of diligences,--a
purchase necessitated by an increasing influx of travellers.
Pierrotin's present establishment consisted of two vehicles. One,
which served in winter, and the only one he reported
Daumartin line.
Though the departures for Isle-Adam professed to take place at a fixed
hour, Pierrotin and his co-rival practised an indulgence in that
respect which won for them the grateful affection of the country-
people, and also violent remonstrances on the part of strangers
accustomed to the regularity of the great lines of public conveyances.
But the two conductors of these vehicles, which were half diligence,
half coucou, were invariably defended by their regular customers. The
afternoon departure at four o'clock usually lagged on till half-past,
while that of the morning, fixed for eight o'clock, was seldom known
to take place before nine. In this respect, however, the system was
elastic. In summer, that golden period for the coaching business, the
rule of departure, rigorous toward strangers, was often relaxed for
country customers. This method not infrequently enabled Pierrotin to
pocket two fares for one place, if a countryman came early and wanted
a seat already booked and paid for by some "bird of passage" who was,
unluckily for himself, a little late. Such elasticity will certainly
not commend itself to purists in morality; but Pierrotin and his
colleague justified it on the varied grounds of "hard times," of their
losses during the winter months, of the necessity of soon getting
better coaches, and of the duty of keeping exactly to the rules
written on the tariff, copies of which were, however, never shown,
unless some chance traveller was obstinate enough to demand it.
Pierrotin, a man about forty years of age, was already the father of a
family. Released from the cavalry on the great disbandment of 1815,
the worthy fellow had succeeded his father, who for many years had
driven a coucou of capricious flight between Paris and Isle-Adam.
Having married the daughter of a small inn-keeper, he enlarged his
business, made it a regular service, and became noted for his
intelligence and a certain military precision. Active and decided in
his ways, Pierrotin (the name seems to have been a sobriquet)
contrived to give, by the vivacity of his countenance, an expression
of sly shrewdness to his ruddy and weather-stained visage which
suggested wit. He was not without that facility of speech which is
acquired chiefly through "seeing life" and other countries. His voice,
by dint of talking to his horses and shouting "Gare!" was rough; but
he managed to tone it down with the bourgeois. His clothing, like that
of all coachmen of the second class, consisted of stout boots, heavy
with nails, made at Isle-Adam, trousers of bottle-green velveteen,
waistcoat of the same, over which he wore, while exercising his
functions, a blue blouse, ornamented on the collar, shoulder-straps
and cuffs, with many-colored embroidery. A cap with a visor covered
his head. His military career had left in Pierrotin's manners and
customs a great respect for all social superiority, and a habit of
obedience to persons of the upper classes; and though he never
willingly mingled with the lesser bourgeoisie, he always respected
women in whatever station of life they belonged. Nevertheless, by dint
of "trundling the world,"--one of his own expressions,--he had come to
look upon those he conveyed as so many walking parcels, who required
less care than the inanimate ones,--the essential object of a coaching
business.
Warned by the general movement which, since the Peace, was
revolutionizing his calling, Pierrotin would not allow himself to be
outdone by the progress of new lights. Since the beginning of the
summer season he had talked much of a certain large coach, ordered
from Farry, Breilmann, and Company, the best makers of diligences,--a
purchase necessitated by an increasing influx of travellers.
Pierrotin's present establishment consisted of two vehicles. One,
which served in winter, and the only one he reported