Une Vie, a Piece of String and Other StoriesMaupassant, Guy de
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Une Vie, a Piece of String and Other Stories
Maupassant, Guy de
Short stories, French -- Translations into English
What happened within her? She felt, she understood that it was he, the
dead man, who had come back, who had disguised himself in the feathers
of this bird in order to continue to torment her; that he would curse,
as formerly, all day long, and bite her, and swear at her, in order to
attract the neighbors and make them laugh. Then she rushed for the
cage and seized the bird, which scratched and tore her flesh with its
claws and beak. But she held it with all her strength between her
hands. She threw it on the ground and rolled over it with the frenzy
of one possessed. She crushed it and finally made of it nothing but a
little green, flabby lump which no longer moved or spoke. Then she
wrapped it in a cloth, as in a shroud, and she went out in her
nightgown, barefoot; she crossed the dock, against which the choppy
waves of the sea were beating, and she shook the cloth and let drop
this little dead thing, which looked like so much grass. Then she
returned, threw herself on her knees before the empty cage, and,
overcome by what she had done, kneeled and prayed for forgiveness, as
if she had committed some heinous crime.
* * * * *
THE PIECE OF STRING
It was market-day, and from all the country round Goderville the
peasants and their wives were coming toward the town. The men walked
slowly, throwing the whole body forward at every step of their long,
crooked legs. They were deformed from pushing the plough which makes
the left shoulder higher, and bends their figures sideways; from
reaping the grain, when they have to spread their legs so as to keep
on their feet. Their starched blue blouses, glossy as though
varnished, ornamented at collar and cuffs with a little embroidered
design and blown out around their bony bodies, looked very much like
balloons about to soar, whence issued two arms and two feet.
Some of these fellows dragged a cow or a calf at the end of a rope.
And just behind the animal followed their wives beating it over the
back with a leaf-covered branch to hasten its pace, and carrying large
baskets out of which protruded the heads of chickens or ducks. These
women walked more quickly and energetically than the men, with their
erect, dried-up figures, adorned with scanty little shawls pinned over
their flat bosoms, and their heads wrapped round with a white cloth,
enclosing the hair and surmounted by a cap.
Now a char-à-banc passed by, jogging along behind a nag and shaking up
strangely the two men on the seat, and the woman at the bottom of the
cart who held fast to its sides to lessen the hard jolting.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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