VOLUME X.

The christening
the farmer’s wife
the devil
the Snipe
the will
Walter SCHNAFF’S adventure
at sea
minuet
the son
that pig of A Morin
saint Anthony
lasting love
Pierrot
A Normandy joke
father Matthew

THE CHRISTENING

“Well doctor, a little brandy?”

“With pleasure.”

The old ship’s surgeon, holding out his glass, watched it as it slowly filled with the golden liquid.  Then, holding it in front of his eyes, he let the light from the lamp stream through it, smelled it, tasted a few drops and smacked his lips with relish.  Then he said: 

“Ah! the charming poison!  Or rather the seductive murderer, the delightful destroyer of peoples!

“You people do not know it the way I do.  You may have read that admirable book entitled L’Assommoir, but you have not, as I have, seen alcohol exterminate a whole tribe of savages, a little kingdom of negroes—­alcohol calmly unloaded by the barrel by red-bearded English seamen.

“Right near here, in a little village in Brittany near Pont-l’Abbe, I once witnessed a strange and terrible tragedy caused by alcohol.  I was spending my vacation in a little country house left me by my father.  You know this flat coast where the wind whistles day and night, where one sees, standing or prone, these giant rocks which in the olden times were regarded as guardians, and which still retain something majestic and imposing about them.  I always expect to see them come to life and start to walk across the country with the slow and ponderous tread of giants, or to unfold enormous granite wings and fly toward the paradise of the Druids.

“Everywhere is the sea, always ready on the slightest provocation to rise in its anger and shake its foamy mane at those bold enough to brave its wrath.

“And the men who travel on this terrible sea, which, with one motion of its green back, can overturn and swallow up their frail barks—­they go out in the little boats, day and night, hardy, weary and drunk.  They are often drunk.  They have a saying which says:  ’When the bottle is full you see the reef, but when it is empty you see it no more.’

“Go into one of their huts; you will never find the father there.  If you ask the woman what has become of her husband, she will stretch her arms out over the dark ocean which rumbles and roars along the coast.  He remained, there one night, when he had had too much to drink; so did her oldest son.  She has four more big, strong, fair-haired boys.  Soon it will be their time.

“As I said, I was living in a little house near Pont-l’Abbe.  I was there alone with my servant, an old sailor, and with a native family which took care of the grounds in my absence.  It consisted of three persons, two sisters and a man, who had married one of them, and who attended to the garden.