Adventure and adventurers -- Fiction; France -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction; Orphans -- Fiction; Street entertainers -- Fiction
Then he explained to me that the Landais, so as to get over the marshy
plains, and not sink in up to their hips, stride about the country on
stilts.
What a goose I had been!
CHAPTER IX
ARRESTED
I had a pleasant remembrance of Pau, the beautiful winter resort where
the wind scarcely ever blew. We stayed there the whole winter, for we
were taking in quite a lot of money. Our audience consisted mostly of
children, and they were never tired if we did give the same performance
over and over again. They were children of the rich, mostly English and
American. Fat little boys, with ruddy skins, and pretty little girls
with soft eyes almost as beautiful as Dulcie's. It was from these
children that I got a taste for candy, for they always came with their
pockets stuffed with sweets which they divided between Pretty-Heart, the
dogs, and myself. But when the spring approached our audience grew
smaller. One by one, two by two, the little ones came to shake hands
with Pretty-Heart, Capi, and Dulcie. They had come to say good-by. They
were going away. So we also had to leave the beautiful winter resort and
take up our wandering life again.
For a long time, I do not know how many days or weeks, we went through
valleys, over hills, leaving behind the bluish top of the Pyrenees,
which now looked like a mass of clouds.
Then one night we came to a great town with ugly red brick houses and
with streets paved with little pointed stones, hard to the feet of
travelers who had walked a dozen miles a day. My master told me that we
were in Toulouse and that we should stay there for a long time. As
usual, the first thing we did was to look about for a suitable place to
hold the next day's performance. Suitable places were not lacking,
especially near the Botanical Gardens, where there is a beautiful lawn
shaded with big trees and a wide avenue leading to it. It was in one of
the side walks that we gave our first performance.
A policeman stood by while we arranged our things. He seemed annoyed,
either because he did not like dogs, or because he thought we had no
business there; he tried to send us away. It would have been better if
we had gone. We were not strong enough to hold out against the police,
but my master did not think so. Although he was an old man, strolling
about the country with his dogs, he was very proud. He considered that
as he was not breaking the law, he should have police protection, so
when the officer wanted to send us away, he refused to leave.
Vitalis was very polite; in fact he carried his Italian politeness to
the extreme. One might have thought that he was addressing some high and
mighty personage.
"The illustrious gentleman, who represents the police authority," he
said, taking off his hat and bowing low to the policeman, "can he show
me an order emanating from the said authority, which states that it is
forbidden for poor strolling players, like ourselves, to carry on their
humble profession on a public square?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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