soon as his children were large enough he made them
serviceable to his comfort, caring no more for their morality than for
that of his wife. He had two sons and two daughters. Tonsard, who lived,
as did his wife, from hand to mouth, might have come to an end of
this easy life if he had not maintained a sort of martial law over his
family, which compelled them to work for the preservation of it. When he
had brought up his children, at the cost of those from whom his wife was
able to extort gifts, the following charter and budget were the law at
the Grand-I-Vert.

Tonsard's old mother and his two daughters, Catherine and Marie, went
into the woods at certain seasons twice a-day, and came back laden with
fagots which overhung the crutch of their poles at least two feet beyond
their heads. Though dried sticks were placed on the outside of the heap,
the inside was made of live wood cut from young trees. In plain words,
Tonsard helped himself to his winter's fuel in the woods of Les Aigues.
Besides this, father and sons were constantly poaching. From September
to March, hares, rabbits, partridges, deer, in short, all the game that
was not eaten at the chateau, was sold at Blangy and at Soulanges, where
Tonsard's two daughters peddled milk in the early mornings,--coming back
with the news of the day, in return for the gossip they carried about
Les Aigues, and Cerneux, and Conches. In the months when the three
Tonsards were unable to hunt with a gun, they set traps. If the traps
caught more game than they could eat, La Tonsard made pies of it and
sent them to Ville-aux-Fayes. In harvest-time seven Tonsards--the old
mother, the two sons (until they were seventeen years of age), the two
daughters, together with old Fourchon and Mouche--gleaned, and generally
brought in about sixteen bushels a day of all grains, rye, barley,
wheat, all good to grind.

The two cows, led to the roadside by the youngest girl, always managed
to stray into the meadows of Les Aigues; but as, if it ever chanced that
some too flagrant trespass compelled the keepers to take notice of it,
the children were either whipped or deprived of a coveted dainty, they
had acquired such extraordinary aptitude in hearing the enemy's footfall
that the bailiff or the park-keeper of Les Aigues was very seldom able
to detect them. Besides, the relations of those estimable functionaries
with Tonsard and his wife tied a bandage over their eyes. The cows, held
by long ropes