The Works of Guy de Maupassant, Volume VIII.Maupassant, Guy de
General
The Works of Guy de Maupassant, Volume VIII.
Maupassant, Guy de
French fiction -- Translations into English; Short stories, French -- Translations into English
His face was very pale, and his two big white eyes were like wafers;
and he remained unmoved in spite of the insults inflicted upon him, so
shut up in himself that one could not tell whether he felt them at
all.
Moreover, he had never known any tenderness, his mother having always
treated him unkindly, and caring scarcely at all for him; for in
country places the useless are obnoxious, and the peasants would be
glad, like hens, to kill the infirm of their species.
As soon as the soup had been gulped down, he went to the door in
summer-time and sat down, to the chimney-corner in winter time, and,
after that, never stirred all night. He made no gesture, no movement;
only his eyelids, quivering from some nervous affection, fell down
sometimes over his white, sightless orbs. Had he any intellect, any
thinking faculty, any consciousness of his own existence? Nobody cared
to inquire as to whether he had or no.
For some years things went on in this fashion. But his incapacity for
doing anything as well as his impassiveness eventually exasperated his
relatives, and he became a laughing-stock, a sort of martyred buffoon,
a prey given over to native ferocity, to the savage gaiety of the
brutes who surrounded him.
It is easy to imagine all the cruel practical jokes inspired by his
blindness. And, in order to have some fun in return for feeding him,
they now converted his meals into hours of pleasure for the neighbors
and of punishment for the helpless creature himself.
The peasants from the nearest houses came to this entertainment; it
was talked about from door to door, and every day the kitchen of the
farmhouse was full of people. Sometimes they put on the table, in
front of his plate, when he was beginning to take the soup, some cat
or some dog. The animal instinctively scented out the man's infirmity,
and, softly approaching, commenced eating noiselessly, lapping up the
soup daintily; and, when a rather loud licking of the tongue awakened
the poor fellow's attention, it would prudently scamper away to avoid
the blow of the spoon directed at it by the blind man at random!
Then the spectators huddled against the walls burst out laughing,
nudged each other, and stamped their feet on the floor. And he,
without ever uttering a word, would continue eating with the aid of
his right hand, while stretching out his left to protect and defend
his plate.
At another time they made him chew corks, bits of wood, leaves, or
even filth, which he was unable to distinguish.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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