"Fifteen sous! " exclaimed the old woman;
"but that is impossible! And how do you expect
me to make soup out of that? "
"As you like," said the butcher, throwing the piece back into the pan. " Only, you know, I am going to send you your bill to-day. If it is not paid by to-morrow, then the process-server! "
"Give it to me," said the old woman, then, with resignation.
When she had gone, the butcher explained to me:
"Nevertheless, if we did not have the poor to buy the inferior parts, we really should not make enough out of an animal. But these wretches are getting to be very exacting nowadays."
And, cutting off two long slices of good red meat, he threw them to the dogs.
The dogs of the rich,—indeed! they are not poor.
At the Priory events succeed one another. From the tragic they pass to the comical, for one cannot always shudder. Tired of the captain's mischief- making, and acting on Madame' s advice. Monsieur has at last brought suit before a justice of the peace. He claims damages and interest for the breaking of his bell-glasses and his frames, and for the devastation of the garden. It seems that the meeting of the two enemies in the office
