Part 193 (1/2)
And he added with dignity:--
”There are three of us.”
And seeing that the baker, after scrutinizing the three customers, had taken down a black loaf, he thrust his finger far up his nose with an inhalation as imperious as though he had had a pinch of the great Frederick's snuff on the tip of his thumb, and hurled this indignant apostrophe full in the baker's face:--
”Keksekca?”
Those of our readers who might be tempted to espy in this interpellation of Gavroche's to the baker a Russian or a Polish word, or one of those savage cries which the Yoways and the Botocudos hurl at each other from bank to bank of a river, athwart the solitudes, are warned that it is a word which they [our readers] utter every day, and which takes the place of the phrase: ”Qu'est-ce que c'est que cela?” The baker understood perfectly, and replied:--
”Well! It's bread, and very good bread of the second quality.”
”You mean larton brutal [black bread]!” retorted Gavroche, calmly and coldly disdainful. ”White bread, boy! white bread [larton savonne]! I'm standing treat.”
The baker could not repress a smile, and as he cut the white bread he surveyed them in a compa.s.sionate way which shocked Gavroche.
”Come, now, baker's boy!” said he, ”what are you taking our measure like that for?”
All three of them placed end to end would have hardly made a measure.
When the bread was cut, the baker threw the sou into his drawer, and Gavroche said to the two children:--
”Grub away.”
The little boys stared at him in surprise.
Gavroche began to laugh.
”Ah! hullo, that's so! they don't understand yet, they're too small.”
And he repeated:--
”Eat away.”
At the same time, he held out a piece of bread to each of them.
And thinking that the elder, who seemed to him the more worthy of his conversation, deserved some special encouragement and ought to be relieved from all hesitation to satisfy his appet.i.te, he added, as be handed him the largest share:--
”Ram that into your muzzle.”
One piece was smaller than the others; he kept this for himself.
The poor children, including Gavroche, were famished. As they tore their bread apart in big mouthfuls, they blocked up the shop of the baker, who, now that they had paid their money, looked angrily at them.
”Let's go into the street again,” said Gavroche.
They set off once more in the direction of the Bastille.
From time to time, as they pa.s.sed the lighted shop-windows, the smallest halted to look at the time on a leaden watch which was suspended from his neck by a cord.
”Well, he is a very green 'un,” said Gavroche.