Volume I Part 25 (1/2)
Monsieur Beaub.i.+.c.hon cast a sidelong glance at the man from the country, who put his hand to his hat; whereupon the professor concluded to touch his own slightly and to address his companion.
”Is monsieur also awaiting Monsieur Chamoureau?”
”Yes, monsieur, with your permission.”
”I have no intention of objecting. Would monsieur care to learn bookkeeping, double or single entry?”
”Me! learn bookkeeping! G.o.d bless me! what for?”
”What for? why, in order to know it.”
”And what use would it be to me?”
”Why, to keep your books; to have everything down in black and white!”
”In the first place, I haven't got any books--oh, yes! except the _Country Cook_ for the women, and fairy stories for the young ones, and their catechism for 'em to learn their lesson out of; but all of them keep themselves in a closet; there ain't no need for us to learn to keep 'em.”
”Dense ignorance!” muttered Monsieur Beaub.i.+.c.hon, shrugging his shoulders.--”Then you are not in business, monsieur?” he continued, aloud.
”Oh, yes! I sell wine from my own vines, and fruit from the orchard when there's a good crop!”
”Well, then you must have books to write in--'sold Monsieur So-and-So so much; received from Monsieur Thingumbob so much.'”
”It ain't worth while, for I almost always sell for cash, and then, if anyone does owe me money, why, there ain't no danger of my forgetting it before he pays me.”
The professor gave another shrug and began to pace the floor.
”And people say that we are going forward, they declare that our progress is constant! But where is this boasted progress, I pray to know, when this countryman has no ledger wherein to keep a running account with his apricots and his pears!--Servant, your master does not return; a pupil awaits me; I go to place my learning at his service, to instil my knowledge into him. I will return. Beg Monsieur Chamoureau to wait for me, and may he be pregnant with information concerning the marriageable young lady!”
The gentleman in black having retired, the countryman said to the charwoman:
”Who in the devil is that fellow who puffs himself out when he talks, just exactly like a bladder when you blow it up? He looks like a schoolmaster--with his books he wants to learn me to keep. And then I saw how he hoisted up his shoulders and called me 'dirty'[H] under his breath! But just let him come down our way, and I'll bet he don't so much as know how to plant beans or hoe potatoes! All these fellows that put on so many airs in the city ain't good for nothing in the country; they don't know how to use a spade nor yet a pickaxe! But it's my opinion that the man what makes the vegetables grow that you eat deserves to be thought just as much of as that critter what makes scrawls on books.”
The servant continued to dust the furniture, nodding her head approvingly.
”I'd like to know if your master, Monsieur Cha--Chabouleau puts on airs and eyes country folks like that crow that just went out; because if he does, why, I wouldn't give him any business of mine, d'ye see.”
”No, monsieur, no; never fear. Monsieur Chamoureau is too well-bred not to be polite to everybody, especially his clients. He'd take off his hat to a child two years old, if the child should give him his business.”
”All right! but seemin' to me your bourgeois is staying out a long while.”
”In Paris, monsieur, one can never be sure how long it will take to do an errand.”
”That's so; because there's so many carriages pa.s.sing--that delays you.
Well, here it is raining now!”
”And monsieur didn't bring his umbrella.”
”They told me n.o.body used umbrellas in Paris now, as there's so many busses that folks never walk.”