ften assisting the fall by
a push of their shoulders.

In spite, however, of all the marauding, some terrible scores had to be
run up with the "frier" of the Rue de la Grand Truanderie. This "frier,"
whose shanty leaned against a tumble-down house, and was propped up by
heavy joists, green with moss, made a display of boiled mussels lying in
large earthenware bowls filled to the brim with clear water; of dishes
of little yellow dabs stiffened by too thick a coating of paste; of
squares of tripe simmering in a pan; and of grilled herrings, black and
charred, and so hard that if you tapped them they sounded like wood. On
certain weeks Cadine owed the frier as much as twenty sous, a crushing
debt, which required the sale of an incalculable number of bunches of
violets, for she could count upon no assistance from Marjolin. Moreover,
she was bound to return Leon's hospitalities; and she even felt some
little shame at never being able to offer him a scrap of meat. He
himself had now taken to purloining entire hams. As a rule, he stowed
everything away under his shirt; and at night when he reached his
bedroom he drew from his bosom hunks of polony, slices of _pate de foie
gras_, and bundles of pork rind. They had to do without bread, and there
was nothing to drink; but no matter. One night Marjolin saw Leon kiss
Cadine between two mouthfuls; however, he only laughed. He could have
smashed the little fellow with a blow from his fist, but he felt no
jealousy in respect of Cadine. He treated her simply as a comrade with
whom he had chummed for years.

Claude never participated in these feasts. Having caught Cadine one day
stealing a beet-root from a little hamper lined with hay, he had pulled
her ears and given her a sound rating. These thieving propensities made
her perfect as a ne'er-do-well. However, in spite of himself, he could
not help feeling a sort of admiration for these sensual, pilfering,
greedy creatures, who preyed upon everything that lay about, feasting
off the crumbs that fell from the giant's table.

At last Marjolin nominally took service under Gavard, happy in having
nothing to do except to listen to his master's flow of talk, while
Cadine still continued to sell violets, quite accustomed by this time to
old Mother Chantemesse's scoldings. They were still the same children as
ever, giving way to their instincts and appetites without the slightest
shame--they were the growth of the slimy pavements of the marke