The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Flood, by Emile Zola

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Title: The Flood

Author: Emile Zola

Release Date: December, 2004 [EBook #7011]
Posting Date: June 14, 2009

Language: English

Character set encoding: ASCII

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FLOOD ***

Produced by Michael Castelluccio

THE FLOOD

By Emile Zola

I.

My name is Louis Roubien. I am seventy years old. I was born in the
village of Saint-Jory, several miles up the Garonne from Toulouse.

For fourteen years I battled with the earth for my daily bread. At last,
prosperity smiled on we, and last month I was still the richest farmer
in the parish.

Our house seemed blessed, happiness reigned there. The sun was our
brother, and I cannot recall a bad crop. We were almost a dozen on the
farm. There was myself, still hale and hearty, leading the children
to work; then my young brother, Pierre, an old bachelor and retired
sergeant; then my sister, Agathe, who came to us after the death of her
husband. She was a commanding woman, enormous and gay, whose laugh could
be heard at the other end of the village. Then came all the brood:
my son, Jacques; his wife, Rosie, and their three daughters, Aimee,
Veronique, and Marie. The first named was married to Cyprica Bouisson,
a big jolly fellow, by whom she had two children, one two years old
and the other ten months. Veronique was just betrothed, and was soon
to marry Gaspard Rabuteau. The third, Marie, was a real young lady, so
white, so fair, that she looked as if born in the city.

That made ten, counting everybody. I was a grandfather and a
great-grandfather. When we were at table I had my sister, Agathe, at
my right, and my brother, Pierre, at my left. The children formed a
circle, seated according to age, with the heads diminishing down to the
baby of ten months, who already ate his soup like a man. And let me tell
you that the spoons in the plates made a clatter. The brood had hearty
appetites. And what gayety between the mouthfuls! I was filled with
pride and joy when the little ones held out their hands toward me,
crying:

"Grandpa, give us some bread! A big piece, grandpa!"

Oh! the good days! Our