"Smashed everything to make 'em pay him," said Jean Ficelle; "at least, that's what I'd have done." "Oh! no, you wouldn't," said Sans-Cravate; "if you'd seen the poverty of those poor people, you'd have done just what I did, for you couldn't have helped being touched. When I went into their room--they lived up under the eaves--it was near six o'clock in the morning; I found the man and his wife still in bed. They had old towels round their heads for nightcaps, that made 'em look like Turks. They had no bedclothes but an old quilt all full of holes, so they'd piled all their clothes on the bed--old dresses, a pair of trousers, and even old boots! all that to keep 'em warm! And then, in a recess, there was the child's bed--a pretty, red-cheeked little boy, two or three years old--I say, the bed, but it wasn't one! Guess what the child was lying in--an old muff, with hardly any fur left on it; they had stuffed the little fellow into that, and then taken out the drawer of a commode and put him in it for a bed. When he saw me come in, the man said: 'My dear friend, if you have come for what I owe you, I shall have to ask you to be kind enough to wait a little longer; for I've been out of work for a fortnight. We lie in bed as long as possible, because we haven't got anything to make a fire, and what is worse is that I don't know just now what we're going to breakfast on to-day!'--I'd just like to know if I could ask those people for money! I tried to comfort 'em a little, and then I went away." "That's very well, but he don't tell you the whole story," cried Bastringuette; "he not only didn't ask 'em for what was owing him, but he left on that poor man's mantelpiece the only five-franc piece he owned; so, instead of bringing back twice what he had, so that we could have some fun, he came back without a sou!" Paul seized Sans-Cravate's hand and shook it warmly, crying: "Ah! that was fine, Sans-Cravate! that was a fine thing you did! you have a warm heart, you're a good fellow!" "Oh! _pardi!_ what a fuss over nothing!" rejoined the messenger, filling his glass; "of course, that little fellow in the muff had to have some breakfast! My credit's good at the wine shop, you see, so I could wait." "If all creditors acted like that," muttered Jean Ficelle, "trade would be pretty bad.--I say, Laboussole, if your creditors gave you five francs, that would suit you down to the ground, eh?" This apostrophe was addressed to the individual with the striped cravat, who had long since finished his beer, but was still chewing his bread and beating the table with his knife as if he were playing a drum. He thrust out his chin toward his interlocutor, and replied with a sprightly air: "I should be a millionaire! as it is, I'm strapped. What do you expect? you see that every day! and I've known what it is to eat roast veal and lettuce, and to drink all the wine I wanted. We all have our ups and downs [_bas_]."