The idea was greeted with acclamation. Yes, Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, was no doubt in want of some pettitoes. They started off. Coupeau took them to the bolt factory in the Rue Marcadet. As they arrived a good half hour before the time the workmen came out, the zinc-worker gave a youngster two sous to go in and tell Salted-Mouth that his wife was ill and wanted him at once. The blacksmith made his appearance, waddling in his walk, looking very calm, and scenting a tuck-out. “Ah! you jokers!” said he, as soon as he caught sight of them hiding in a doorway. “I guessed it. Well, what are we going to eat?” At mother Louis’, whilst they sucked the little bones of the pettitoes, they again fell to abusing the employers. Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, related that they had a most pressing order to execute at the shop. Oh! the ape was pleasant for the time being. One could be late, and he would say nothing; he no doubt considered himself lucky when one turned up at all. At any rate, no boss would dare to throw Salted-Mouth out the door, because you couldn’t find lads of his capacity any more. After the pettitoes they had an omelet. When each of them had emptied his bottle, Mere Louis brought out some Auvergne wine, thick enough to cut with a knife. The party was really warming up. “What do you think is the ape’s latest idea?” cried Salted-Mouth at dessert. “Why, he’s been and put a bell up in his shed! A bell! That’s good for slaves. Ah, well! It can ring to-day! They won’t catch me again at the anvil! For five days past I’ve been sticking there; I may give myself a rest now. If he deducts anything, I’ll send him to blazes.” “I,” said Coupeau, with an air of importance, “I’m obliged to leave you; I’m off to work. Yes, I promised my wife. Amuse yourselves; my spirit you know remains with my pals.”