Part 38 (1/2)
”Ah! neighbor, what a fine drawing!” said a fish dealer to a fruit woman, who stood near Edouard, copying the result of the lottery; ”11, 20, 44, 19, 76.--I ought to be as rich as a queen to-day. Here, for more than a year I have been following up a _dry terne_ on the first three numbers that come out; the day before yesterday was the last day. I was waiting for Thomas, who works at La Vallee; he was going to bring me a goose stuffed with chestnuts for our supper, with some sixteen-sou wine from Eustache's at the Barreaux Verts, which has a fine bouquet! It was my idea to have a nice little supper in a private room--that brings luck--and to take my ticket when we went home to bed.--But not a bit of it. Thomas kept me cooling my heels, waiting for him. I got tired of it and went to his garret, and he had colic in the loins from dancing too much on Sunday at the _Rabbits_. I had to stay and nurse him, the closing time pa.s.sed and I forgot my _dry terne_ while I was giving him injections.”
”Poor Francoise! that was hard luck.--Well! my poor dead man might have had pains in his belly--that wouldn't 'a' made me forget my tickets! For the last ten years I've always paid my rent with number 20; it went a little by the date this time, but I got it all the same--I put my counterpane up the spout to do it. You see, I'd rather have sold my chemise than dropped it, for I was bound to have it.”
”Do you know any of those that won the big prize?”
”Why, the dry goods dealer's cook. Three numbers taken out of the wheel at random!”
”That's what I call luck!”
”Oh! it ain't to be wondered at; she dreamed that her master used the soup-kettle for a chamber.”
”Then it was sure money! I'm down on my luck; I've never been able to dream of nasty things.”
”Oh! as for me, I often used to dream some in my late husband's time.”
Edouard turned away, forcing a pa.s.sage through the crowd in front of the office. As he walked along he thought of the numbers that had come out.
It was not so quick a way of getting rich as roulette, the chances were less favorable; but the results, when one is lucky, are much more advantageous, as one may win a large sum with a modest coin.
He pa.s.sed the day thinking about the lottery, and the next morning he decided to tempt fortune in that new manner. He entered the first office that he saw; and he had not to go far, for lottery offices are more numerous than poor relief offices.
It was ten o'clock in the morning. It was the last day of a foreign lottery. The office was full, the crowd was so great that one could hardly enter, and it was necessary to take one's place at the end of a long line in order to exchange one's money for some slips of paper.
Edouard decided to wait. He glanced at the crowd that surrounded him. It was composed almost entirely of people of the lower cla.s.ses--street hawkers, cooks, menders of lace, cobblers, messengers, rag-pickers.
It is not that the upper cla.s.ses do not try their luck in the lottery; but fas.h.i.+onable people send others to buy tickets for them, and the bourgeois, who are ashamed of what they do, enter only by the private door.
Edouard held his nose, for that a.s.semblage of ladies and gentlemen exhaled an odor anything but agreeable; and the muddy boots of the Savoyard, the fish-woman's herring, the rag-picker's bag, the cobbler's wax, and the cook's whiting formed a combination of smells which would disgust a grenadier. But the purchasers of lottery tickets are engrossed by their calculations and they smell nothing.
While awaiting their turn, the habitues form groups and confide their dreams and ideas to one another. Everyone talks at once; but in that respect everyone is wise; it is a veritable babel, despite the remonstrances of the mistress of the place, who shouts every five minutes, as they do in court:
”Silence in the corner. Pray be quiet, mesdames, you can't hear yourself think!”
Edouard, not being accustomed to it, was bewildered by the chatter of the gossips, who talked on without stopping; but wealth cannot be bought too dearly, and he made the best of it, and even determined to profit by what he overheard.
”My girl,” said an old hag covered with rags, to another who held her chafing-dish under her arm; ”I saw a gray spider behind my bed this morning before breakfast.”
”Pardi!” replied the other--”spiders! I see 'em every day at home!”
”No matter, they bring luck; I'm going to put a crown on 9, 30 and 51; I'm sure they won't all draw blanks.”
And the poor creature, who wore no stockings and whose skirt was full of holes, took a crown from her pocket to put on her spider. To those who believe firmly in dreams, numbers cease to be numbers, and become the objects they have seen in their dreams, all of which are represented by particular numbers, as set forth in the books of dreams, the _Pet.i.t Cagliostro_, the _Aveugle du Bonheur_, and a thousand nice little works of about the same value, which the ticket buyers know by heart. The keeper of the office, who knew her trade, and, when the customer was worth the trouble, could make calculations on the mists of the Seine, told them what numbers to take, when they described their dreams to her.
”Monsieur, give me my oxen,” said an oyster woman, presenting her thirty-sou piece.
”Monsieur, put twenty-four sous on a white cat for me.”
”My aunt's dressing jacket, monsieur.”
”My little woman, some anchovies, in the first drawing.”
”Give me a _terne_ on artichokes.”