mployed found themselves thrown into the street. There
it is! Happily for Garnier, he had neither wife nor child, nothing but
his own carcass. One can always get one's self out of a difficulty, but
the others who had households and brats! Rousselet had five. Matters
were not going to be very cheerful at home. He must rely on charity or
credit, he did not know what, but something to stave off that distress,
real and sad distress, since it was not merited.

"Do you interest yourself in politics?" asked Vaudrey curiously,
surmising that this man was possessed of strong and quick intelligence,
although he looked so worn and crushed and his cough frequently
interrupted his remarks.

Garnier looked at Ramel before replying, then answered in a quiet tone:

"Oh! not now! That is all over. I vote like everybody else, but I let
the rest alone. I have had my reckoning."

He had said all this in a low tone without any bitterness and as if
burdened with painful memories.

"It is, however, strange, all the same," added the workman, "to observe
that the more things change, the more alike they are. Instead of
occupying themselves over there with interpellations and seeking to
overthrow or to strengthen administrations, would it not be better if
they thought a little of those who are dying of hunger? for there are
some, it is necessary to admit that such are not wanting! What is it to
me whether Pichereau or Vaudrey be minister, when I do not know at the
moment where I shall sleep when I have spent my savings, and whether
the baker will give me credit now that I am without a shop?"

At the mention of Vaudrey's name, Ramel wished to make a sign to this
man, but Sulpice had just seized the hand of his old friend and pressed
it as if to entreat him not to interrupt the conversation. The voice
that he heard, interrupted by a cough, was the voice of a workman and he
did not hear such every day.

"Note well that I am not a blusterer or a disturber, isn't that so,
Monsieur Ramel? I have always been content with my lot, myself--One
receives and executes orders and one is satisfied. Everything goes on
all right--My politics at present is my work; when I shall have broken
my back to bring journalists into power--I beg your pardon, Monsieur
Ramel, you know very well that it is not of you that I speak thus--I
shall be no fatter for it, I presume. I only want just to keep life and
soul together, if it can be done. I suppose you could not find