A Start in Life [37]
"We are late. Pere Leger,
you know there's a hill to climb; I'm not hungry, and I'll drive on
slowly; you can soon overtake me,--it will do you good to walk a bit."
"What a hurry you are in, Pierrotin!" said the inn-keeper. "Can't you
stay and breakfast? The colonel here pays for the wine at fifty sous,
and has ordered a bottle of champagne."
"I can't. I've got a fish I must deliver by three o'clock for a great
dinner at Stors; there's no fooling with customers, or fishes,
either."
"Very good," said Pere Leger to the inn-keeper. "You can harness that
horse you want to sell me into the cabriolet; we'll breakfast in peace
and overtake Pierrotin, and I can judge of the beast as we go along.
We can go three in your jolter."
To the count's surprise, Pierrotin himself rebridled the horses.
Schinner and Mistigris had walked on. Scarcely had Pierrotin overtaken
the two artists and was mounting the hill from which Ecouen, the
steeple of Mesnil, and the forests that surround that most beautiful
region, came in sight, when the gallop of a horse and the jingling of
a vehicle announced the coming of Pere Leger and the grandson of
Czerni-Georges, who were soon restored to their places in the coucou.
As Pierrotin drove down the narrow road to Moisselles, Georges, who
had so far not ceased to talk with the farmer of the beauty of the
hostess at Saint-Brice, suddenly exclaimed: "Upon my word, this
landscape is not so bad, great painter, is it?"
"Pooh! you who have seen the East and Spain can't really admire it."
"I've two cigars left! If no one objects, will you help me finish
them, Schinner? the little young man there seems to have found a whiff
or two enough for him."
Pere Leger and the count kept silence, which passed for consent.
Oscar, furious at being called a "little young man," remarked, as the
other two were lighting their cigars:
"I am not the aide-de-camp of Mina, monsieur, and I have not yet been
to the East, but I shall probably go there. The career to which my
family destine me will spare me, I trust, the annoyances of travelling
in a coucou before I reach your present age. When I once become a
personage I shall know how to maintain my station."
"'Et caetera punctum!'" crowed Mistigris, imitating the hoarse voice
of a young cock; which made Oscar's deliverance all the more absurd,
because he had just reached the age when the beard sprouts and the
voice breaks. "'What a chit for chat!'" added the rapin.
"Your family, young man, destine you to some career, do they?" said
Georges. "Might I ask what it is?"
"Diplomacy," replied Oscar.
Three bursts of laughter came from Mistigris, the great painter, and
the farmer. The count himself could not help smiling. Georges was
perfectly grave.
"By Allah!" he exclaimed, "I see nothing to laugh at in that. Though
it seems to me, young man, that your respectable mother is, at the
present moment, not exactly in the social sphere of an ambassadress.
She carried a handbag worthy of the utmost respect, and wore shoe-
strings which--"
"My mother, monsieur!" exclaimed Oscar, in a tone of indignation.
"That was the person in charge of our household."
"'Our household' is a very aristocratic term," remarked the count.
"Kings have households," replied Oscar, proudly.
A look from Georges repressed the desire to laugh which took
possession of everybody; he contrived to make Mistigris and the
painter understand that it was necessary to manage Oscar cleverly in
order to work this new mine of amusement.
"Monsieur is right," said the great Schinner to the count, motioning
towards Oscar. "Well-bred people always talk of their 'households'; it
is only common persons like ourselves who say 'home.' For a man so
covered with decorations--"
"'Nunc my eye, nunc alii,'" whispered Mistigris.
"--you seem to know little of the language of the
you know there's a hill to climb; I'm not hungry, and I'll drive on
slowly; you can soon overtake me,--it will do you good to walk a bit."
"What a hurry you are in, Pierrotin!" said the inn-keeper. "Can't you
stay and breakfast? The colonel here pays for the wine at fifty sous,
and has ordered a bottle of champagne."
"I can't. I've got a fish I must deliver by three o'clock for a great
dinner at Stors; there's no fooling with customers, or fishes,
either."
"Very good," said Pere Leger to the inn-keeper. "You can harness that
horse you want to sell me into the cabriolet; we'll breakfast in peace
and overtake Pierrotin, and I can judge of the beast as we go along.
We can go three in your jolter."
To the count's surprise, Pierrotin himself rebridled the horses.
Schinner and Mistigris had walked on. Scarcely had Pierrotin overtaken
the two artists and was mounting the hill from which Ecouen, the
steeple of Mesnil, and the forests that surround that most beautiful
region, came in sight, when the gallop of a horse and the jingling of
a vehicle announced the coming of Pere Leger and the grandson of
Czerni-Georges, who were soon restored to their places in the coucou.
As Pierrotin drove down the narrow road to Moisselles, Georges, who
had so far not ceased to talk with the farmer of the beauty of the
hostess at Saint-Brice, suddenly exclaimed: "Upon my word, this
landscape is not so bad, great painter, is it?"
"Pooh! you who have seen the East and Spain can't really admire it."
"I've two cigars left! If no one objects, will you help me finish
them, Schinner? the little young man there seems to have found a whiff
or two enough for him."
Pere Leger and the count kept silence, which passed for consent.
Oscar, furious at being called a "little young man," remarked, as the
other two were lighting their cigars:
"I am not the aide-de-camp of Mina, monsieur, and I have not yet been
to the East, but I shall probably go there. The career to which my
family destine me will spare me, I trust, the annoyances of travelling
in a coucou before I reach your present age. When I once become a
personage I shall know how to maintain my station."
"'Et caetera punctum!'" crowed Mistigris, imitating the hoarse voice
of a young cock; which made Oscar's deliverance all the more absurd,
because he had just reached the age when the beard sprouts and the
voice breaks. "'What a chit for chat!'" added the rapin.
"Your family, young man, destine you to some career, do they?" said
Georges. "Might I ask what it is?"
"Diplomacy," replied Oscar.
Three bursts of laughter came from Mistigris, the great painter, and
the farmer. The count himself could not help smiling. Georges was
perfectly grave.
"By Allah!" he exclaimed, "I see nothing to laugh at in that. Though
it seems to me, young man, that your respectable mother is, at the
present moment, not exactly in the social sphere of an ambassadress.
She carried a handbag worthy of the utmost respect, and wore shoe-
strings which--"
"My mother, monsieur!" exclaimed Oscar, in a tone of indignation.
"That was the person in charge of our household."
"'Our household' is a very aristocratic term," remarked the count.
"Kings have households," replied Oscar, proudly.
A look from Georges repressed the desire to laugh which took
possession of everybody; he contrived to make Mistigris and the
painter understand that it was necessary to manage Oscar cleverly in
order to work this new mine of amusement.
"Monsieur is right," said the great Schinner to the count, motioning
towards Oscar. "Well-bred people always talk of their 'households'; it
is only common persons like ourselves who say 'home.' For a man so
covered with decorations--"
"'Nunc my eye, nunc alii,'" whispered Mistigris.
"--you seem to know little of the language of the