knees knocking at everyone's door? _Bah! ca pue! _" the group of lads
following him went on, shouting about the poor sot, as they pelted him
with their rain of pebbles and paper bullets.

"Ah--h, he will beat her, in his turn, poor soul; she always gets it
when he's full, as full as that--"

The voice was so close to our ears that we started. The words appeared
addressed to us; they were, in a way, since they were intended for the
street, as a street, and for the benefit of the groups that filled it.
The voice was gruff yet mellow; despite its gruffness it had the ring
of a latent kindliness in its deep tones. The man who owned it was
seated on a level with our elbows, at a cobbler's bench. We stopped to
let the crowd push on beyond us. The man had only lifted his head from
his work, but involuntarily one stopped to salute the power in it.

"_Bonsoir, mesdames_"--the head gravely bowed as the great frame of the
body below the head rose from the low seat. The room within seemed to
contain nothing else save this giant figure, now that it had risen and
was moving toward us. The half-door was courteously opened.

"Will not _ces dames_ give themselves the trouble of entering? The
streets are not gay at this hour."

We went in. A dog and a woman came forth from a smaller inner room to
greet us; of the two the dog was obviously the personage next in point
of intelligence and importance to the master. The woman had a snuffed-
out air, as of one whose life had died out of her years ago. She
blinked at us meekly as she dropped a timid courtesy; at a low word of
command she turned a pitifully patient back on us all. There were years