; but is it
not shameful, gentlemen, that we should be paying tribute to these poor
Poitevin peasants who have the audacity to come into our own market,
take possession of a business that we could have carried on ourselves,
and, after having inundated us with sausages and hams, take from us,
perhaps, nothing in return? Anyhow, who says that the balance of trade
is not in their favor, and that we are not compelled to pay them a
tribute in money? Is it not plain that if this Poitevin industry were
planted in Paris, it would open new fields to Parisian labor? Moreover,
gentlemen, is it not very likely, as Mr. Lestiboudois said, that we buy
these Poitevin salted meats, not with our income, but our capital? Where
will this land us? Let us not allow greedy, avaricious and perfidious
rivals to come here and sell things cheaply, thus making it impossible
for us to produce them ourselves. Aldermen, Paris has given us its
confidence, and we must show ourselves worthy of it. The people are
without labor, and we must create it, and if salted meat costs them a
little more, we shall, at least, have the consciousness that we have
sacrificed our interests to those of the masses, as every good Alderman
ought to do. [Thunders of applause.]

_A Voice._ I hear much said of the poor people; but, under the pretext
of giving them labor, you begin by taking away from them that which is
worth more than labor itself--wood, butter, and soup.

_Pierre, Paul and Jean._ Vote, vote. Away with your theorists and
generalizers! Let us vote. [The three motions are carried.]

THIRD TABLEAU.

_Twenty Years After._

_Son._ Father, decide; we must leave Paris. Work is slack, and
everything is dear.

_Father._ My son, you do not know how hard it is to leave the place
where we were born.

_Son._ The worst of all things is to die there of misery.

_Father._ Go, my son, and seek a more hospitable country. For myself, I
will not leave the grave where your mother, sisters and brothers lie. I
am eager to find, at last, near them, the rest which is denied me in
this city of desolation.

_Son._ Courage, dear father, we will find work elsewhere--in Poitou,
Normandy or Brittany. They say that the industry of Paris is gradually
transferring itself to those distant countries.

_Father._ It is very natural. Unable to sell us wood and food, they
stopped producing more than they needed for themselves, and they
devoted their spare time and capital to making th