ok of philosophy in
his pocket, and the bird-cage in his hand, someone sobbed. M. Fille
turned and saw. It was Virginie Poucette. Fortunately for Virginie other
women did the same, not for the same reason, but out of a sympathy which
was part of the scene.

It had been the intention of some friends of Jean Jacques to give him
a cheer when he left, and even his sullen local creditors, now that
the worst had come, were disposed to give him a good send-off; but the
incident of the canary in its cage gave a turn to the feeling of the
crowd which could not be resisted. They were not a people who could cut
and dry their sentiments; they were all impulse and simplicity, with an
obvious cocksure shrewdness too, like that of Jean Jacques--of the old
Jean Jacques. He had been the epitome of all their faults and all their
virtues.

No one cheered. Only one person called, "Au 'voir, M'sieu' Jean
Jacques!" and no one followed him--a curious, assertive, feebly-brisk,
shock-headed figure in the brown velveteen jacket, which he had bought
in Paris on his Grand Tour.

"What a ridiculous little man!" said a woman from Chalfonte over the
water, who had been buying freely all day for her new "Manor," her
husband being a member of the provincial legislature.

The words were no sooner out of her mouth than two women faced her
threateningly.

"For two pins I'd slap your face," said old Mere Langlois, her great
breast heaving. "Popinjay--you, that ought to be in a cage like his
canary."

But Virginie Poucette also was there in front of the offender, and she
also had come from Chalfonte--was born in that parish; and she knew what
she was facing.

"Better carry a bird-cage and a book than carry swill to swine," she
said; and madame from Chalfonte turned white, for it had been said that
her father was once a swine-herd, and that she had tried her best to
forget it when, with her coarse beauty, she married the well-to-do
farmer who was now in the legislature.

"Hold your tongues, all of you, and look at that," said M. Manotel, who
had joined the agitated group. He was pointing towards the departing
Jean Jacques, who was now away upon his road.

Jean Jacques had raised the cage on a level with his face, and was
evidently speaking to the bird in the way birds love--that soft kissing
sound to which they reply with song.

Presently there came a chirp or two, and then the bird thrust up
its head, and out came the full blessedness of its s