A Start in Life [55]
service not being long enough to obtain one.
On the day when he was no longer able to keep his place, what would
become of them?
"For myself," she said, "by nursing the sick, or living as a
housekeeper in some great family, I could support myself and Monsieur
Clapart; but you, Oscar, what could you do? You have no means, and you
must earn some, for you must live. There are but four careers for a
young man like you,--commerce, government employment, the licensed
professions, or military service. All forms of commerce need capital,
and we have none to give you. In place of capital, a young man can
only give devotion and his capacity. But commerce also demands the
utmost discretion, and your conduct yesterday proves that you lack it.
To enter a government office, you must go through a long probation by
the help of influence, and you have just alienated the only protector
that we had,--a most powerful one. Besides, suppose you were to meet
with some extraordinary help, by which a young man makes his way
promptly either in business or in the public employ, where could you
find the money to live and clothe yourself during the time that you
are learning your employment?"
Here the mother wandered, like other women, into wordy lamentation:
What should she do now to feed the family, deprived of the benefits
Moreau's stewardship had enabled him to send her from Presles? Oscar
had overthrown his benefactor's prosperity! As commerce and a
government clerkship were now impossible, there remained only the
professions of notary and lawyer, either barristers or solicitors, and
sheriffs. But for those he must study at least three years, and pay
considerable sums for entrance fees, examinations, certificates, and
diplomas; and here again the question of maintenance presented itself.
"Oscar," she said, in conclusion, "in you I had put all my pride, all
my life. In accepting for myself an unhappy old age, I fastened my
eyes on you; I saw you with the prospect of a fine career, and I
imagined you succeeding in it. That thought, that hope, gave me
courage to face the privations I have endured for six years in order
to carry you through school, where you have cost me, in spite of the
scholarship, between seven and eight hundred francs a year. Now that
my hope is vanishing, your future terrifies me. I cannot take one
penny from Monsieur Clapart's salary for my son. What can you do? You
are not strong enough to mathematics to enter any of the technical
schools; and, besides, where could I get the three thousand francs
board-money which they extract? This is life as it is, my child. You
are eighteen, you are strong. Enlist in the army; it is your only
means, that I can see, to earn your bread."
Oscar knew as yet nothing whatever of life. Like all children who have
been kept from a knowledge of the trials and poverty of the home, he
was ignorant of the necessity of earning his living. The word
"commerce" presented no idea whatever to his mind; "public employment"
said almost as little, for he saw no results of it. He listened,
therefore, with a submissive air, which he tried to make humble, to
his mother's exhortations, but they were lost in the void, and did not
reach his mind. Nevertheless, the word "army," the thought of being a
soldier, and the sight of his mother's tears did at last make him cry.
No sooner did Madame Clapart see the drops coursing down his cheeks
than she felt herself helpless, and, like most mothers in such cases,
she began the peroration which terminates these scenes,--scenes in
which they suffer their own anguish and that of their children also.
"Well, Oscar, PROMISE me that you will be more discreet in future,--
that you will not talk heedlessly any more, but will strive to repress
your silly vanity," et cetera, et cetera.
Oscar of course promised all his mother asked him to promise, and
then, after gently drawing him to her,
On the day when he was no longer able to keep his place, what would
become of them?
"For myself," she said, "by nursing the sick, or living as a
housekeeper in some great family, I could support myself and Monsieur
Clapart; but you, Oscar, what could you do? You have no means, and you
must earn some, for you must live. There are but four careers for a
young man like you,--commerce, government employment, the licensed
professions, or military service. All forms of commerce need capital,
and we have none to give you. In place of capital, a young man can
only give devotion and his capacity. But commerce also demands the
utmost discretion, and your conduct yesterday proves that you lack it.
To enter a government office, you must go through a long probation by
the help of influence, and you have just alienated the only protector
that we had,--a most powerful one. Besides, suppose you were to meet
with some extraordinary help, by which a young man makes his way
promptly either in business or in the public employ, where could you
find the money to live and clothe yourself during the time that you
are learning your employment?"
Here the mother wandered, like other women, into wordy lamentation:
What should she do now to feed the family, deprived of the benefits
Moreau's stewardship had enabled him to send her from Presles? Oscar
had overthrown his benefactor's prosperity! As commerce and a
government clerkship were now impossible, there remained only the
professions of notary and lawyer, either barristers or solicitors, and
sheriffs. But for those he must study at least three years, and pay
considerable sums for entrance fees, examinations, certificates, and
diplomas; and here again the question of maintenance presented itself.
"Oscar," she said, in conclusion, "in you I had put all my pride, all
my life. In accepting for myself an unhappy old age, I fastened my
eyes on you; I saw you with the prospect of a fine career, and I
imagined you succeeding in it. That thought, that hope, gave me
courage to face the privations I have endured for six years in order
to carry you through school, where you have cost me, in spite of the
scholarship, between seven and eight hundred francs a year. Now that
my hope is vanishing, your future terrifies me. I cannot take one
penny from Monsieur Clapart's salary for my son. What can you do? You
are not strong enough to mathematics to enter any of the technical
schools; and, besides, where could I get the three thousand francs
board-money which they extract? This is life as it is, my child. You
are eighteen, you are strong. Enlist in the army; it is your only
means, that I can see, to earn your bread."
Oscar knew as yet nothing whatever of life. Like all children who have
been kept from a knowledge of the trials and poverty of the home, he
was ignorant of the necessity of earning his living. The word
"commerce" presented no idea whatever to his mind; "public employment"
said almost as little, for he saw no results of it. He listened,
therefore, with a submissive air, which he tried to make humble, to
his mother's exhortations, but they were lost in the void, and did not
reach his mind. Nevertheless, the word "army," the thought of being a
soldier, and the sight of his mother's tears did at last make him cry.
No sooner did Madame Clapart see the drops coursing down his cheeks
than she felt herself helpless, and, like most mothers in such cases,
she began the peroration which terminates these scenes,--scenes in
which they suffer their own anguish and that of their children also.
"Well, Oscar, PROMISE me that you will be more discreet in future,--
that you will not talk heedlessly any more, but will strive to repress
your silly vanity," et cetera, et cetera.
Oscar of course promised all his mother asked him to promise, and
then, after gently drawing him to her,