kisses tried to avoid them, turned away his head and pushed away the
man's face with his little hands. But suddenly, François Tessier put him
down, and cried: "Good-bye! Good-bye!" And he rushed out of the room as
if he had been a thief.




A VAGABOND


For more than a month he had been walking, seeking for work everywhere.
He had left his native place, Ville-Avary, in the department of la
Manche, because there was no work to be had. He was a journeyman
carpenter, twenty-seven years old, a steady fellow and good workman, but
for two months, he, the eldest son, had been obliged to live on his
family, with nothing to do but to cross his arms in the general stoppage
of work. Bread was getting scarce with them; the two sisters went out as
charwomen, but earned little, and he, Jacques Randel, the strongest of
them all, did nothing because he had nothing to do, and ate the others'
soup.

Then he went and inquired at the town-hall, and the mayor's secretary
told him that he would find work at the Labor-center, and so he started,
well provided with papers and certificates, and carrying another pair of
shoes, a pair of trousers and a shirt, in a blue handkerchief at the end
of his stick.

And he had walked almost without stopping, day and night, along
interminable roads, in the sun and rain, without ever reaching that