rne, or on the slopes of Garrigues, his father would storm and raise
his hand, and long bear him a grudge on account of the four francs less
that he received at the end of the fortnight. He thus held his son in
a state of dependence, sometimes even looking upon the sweethearts whom
the young carpenter courted as his own. Several of Gervaise's friends
used to come to the Macquarts' house, work-girls from sixteen to
eighteen years of age, bold and boisterous girls who, on certain
evenings, filled the room with youth and gaiety. Poor Jean, deprived of
all pleasure, ever kept at home by the lack of money, looked at these
girls with longing eyes; but the childish life which he was compelled
to lead had implanted invincible shyness in him; in playing with his
sister's friends, he was hardly bold enough to touch them with the tips
of his fingers. Macquart used to shrug his shoulders with pity.

"What a simpleton!" he would mutter, with an air of ironical
superiority.

And it was he who would kiss the girls, when his wife's back was turned.
He carried his attentions even further with a little laundress whom Jean
pursued rather more earnestly than the others. One fine evening he stole
her almost from his arms. The old rogue prided himself on his gallantry.

There are some men who live upon their mistresses. Antoine Macquart
lived on his wife and children with as much shamelessness and impudence.
He did not feel the least compunction in pillaging the home and going
out to enjoy himself when the house was bare. He still assumed a
supercilious air, returning from the cafe only to rail against the
poverty and wretchedness that awaited him at home. He found the dinner
detestable, he called Gervaise a blockhead, and declared that Jean would
never be a man. Immersed in his own selfish indulgence, he rubbed his
hands whenever he had eaten the best piece in the dish; and then he
smoked his pipe, puffing slowly, while the two poor children, overcome
with fatigue, went to sleep with their heads resting on the table.
Thus Macquart passed his days in lazy enjoyment. It seemed to him quite
natural that he should be kept in idleness like a girl, to sprawl about
on the benches of some tavern, or stroll in the cool of the day along
the Cours or the Mail. At last he went so far as to relate his amorous
escapades in the presence of his son, who listened with glistening
eyes. The children never protested, accustomed as they were to see their
moth