“Ah! my fine fellow! here we are!” And he rubbed his hands, more pleased than he usually was, and continued:  “I said so.  I said so, the moment I saw him in the road.”

And then with increased satisfaction: 

“Oh, you blackguard!  Oh, you dirty blackguard!  You will get your twenty years, my fine fellow!”

THE FISHING HOLE

“Cuts and wounds which caused death.”  Such was the charge upon which Leopold Renard, upholsterer, was summoned before the Court of Assizes.

Round him were the principal witnesses, Madame Flameche, widow of the victim, and Louis Ladureau, cabinetmaker, and Jean Durdent, plumber.

Near the criminal was his wife, dressed in black, an ugly little woman, who looked like a monkey dressed as a lady.

This is how Renard (Leopold) recounted the drama.

“Good heavens, it is a misfortune of which I was the prime victim all the time, and with which my will has nothing to do.  The facts are their own commentary, Monsieur le President.  I am an honest man, a hard-working man, an upholsterer, living in the same street for the last sixteen years, known, liked, respected and esteemed by all, as my neighbors can testify, even the porter’s wife, who is not amiable every day.  I am fond of work, I am fond of saving, I like honest men and respectable amusements.  That is what has ruined me, so much the worse for me; but as my will had nothing to do with it, I continue to respect myself.

“Every Sunday for the last five years my wife and I have spent the day at Passy.  We get fresh air, and, besides, we are fond of fishing.  Oh! we are as fond of it as we are of little onions.  Melie inspired me with that enthusiasm, the jade, and she is more enthusiastic than I am, the scold, seeing that all the mischief in this business is her fault, as you will see immediately.

“I am strong and mild tempered, without a pennyworth of malice in me.  But she! oh! la! la! she looks like nothing; she is short and thin.  Very well, she does more mischief than a weasel.  I do not deny that she has some good qualities; she has some, and very important ones for a man in business.  But her character!  Just ask about it in the neighborhood, and even the porter’s wife, who has just sent me about my business—­she will tell you something about it.

“Every day she used to find fault with my mild temper:  ’I would not put up with this!  I would not put up with that.’  If I had listened to her, Monsieur le President, I should have had at least three hand-to-hand fights a month . . . .”

Madame Renard interrupted him:  “And for good reasons, too; they laugh best who laugh last.”

He turned toward her frankly:  “Well, I can’t blame you, since you were not the cause of it.”

Then, facing the President again, he said: