lles in Berry, born, however, at Issoudun,
had returned to his native place and married the sister of the
sub-delegate, the gay Lousteau, exchanging his office at Selles for
another of the same kind at Issoudun. Having retired before 1787, he
escaped the dangers of the Revolution, to whose principles, however, he
firmly adhered, like all other "honest men" who howl with the winners.
Monsieur Hochon came honestly by the reputation of miser, but it would
be mere repetition to sketch him here. A single specimen of the avarice
which made him famous will suffice to make you see Monsieur Hochon as he
was.

At the wedding of his daughter, now dead, who married a Borniche, it was
necessary to give a dinner to the Borniche family. The bridegroom,
who was heir to a large fortune, had suffered great mortification from
having mismanaged his property, and still more because his father and
mother refused to help him out. The old people, who were living at the
time of the marriage, were delighted to see Monsieur Hochon step in as
guardian,--for the purpose, of course, of making his daughter's dowry
secure. On the day of the dinner, which was given to celebrate the
signing of the marriage contract, the chief relations of the two
families were assembled in the salon, the Hochons on one side, the
Borniches on the other,--all in their best clothes. While the contract
was being solemnly read aloud by young Heron, the notary, the cook came
into the room and asked Monsieur Hochon for some twine to truss up the
turkey,--an essential feature of the repast. The old man dove into the
pocket of his surtout, pulled out an end of string which had evidently
already served to tie up a parcel, and gave it to her; but before she
could leave the room he called out, "Gritte, mind you give it back to
me!" (Gritte is the abbreviation used in Berry for Marguerite.)

From year to year old Hochon grew more petty in his meanness, and more
penurious; and at this time he was eighty-five years old. He belonged to
the class of men who stop short in the street, in the middle of a lively
dialogue, and stoop to pick up a pin, remarking, as they stick it in
the sleeve of their coat, "There's the wife's stipend." He complained
bitterly of the poor quality of the cloth manufactured now-a-days, and
called attention to the fact that his coat had lasted only ten years.
Tall, gaunt, thin, and sallow; saying little, reading little, and doing
nothing to fatigue himself; as o