"Answer me, you little pig!" he shouted, grasping him by the collar. And for the first time in his life, the son of a king, the gentle loving child who had never before had a rough hand laid on him, was shaken to and fro by the cobbler's muscular arm. He sobbed and caught his breath, but still persisted in a stubborn silence. Simon now perceived that in this frail little body, he had an iron will to cope with, and mentally bracing himself, he vowed to break it or perish in the attempt. Then ensued a frightful struggle! The cobbler scolded, threatened, raged, tramped about the room, and finally resorted to blows. The little king set his teeth and endured to the last, but he would not open his lips. It was far into the night when Simon, furious but exhausted, threw the boy on his bed in a dark corner, and left him to sob out his grief, pain and despair till morning. The next day appeared on the scenes, Madame Simon, the cobbler's wife. She was very little, very fat and very ugly. Her face and hands were brown like Simon's, and she always wore a cap tied with red ribbons, and a blue apron. She was rough, coarse-mannered and common like her husband, but unlike him, she was inclined to be a little more kindly toward their captive. The young King took no more notice of her than he had of Simon. For two days he would touch neither food nor drink, persisting always in his obstinate silence. On the third day some municipals came to pay a visit of inspection. Rushing to them, the child demanded with blazing eyes: "Where is the law by which you keep me from my mother? Show me the law! I wish to see it!" The men only laughed, but Simon dragged him away, exclaiming: "Silence, Little Capet! What do you know about the law, young fool?" When the visitors had gone, he continued: "Now that I see you have not forgotten how to speak, I shall teach you to shout 'Vive la République!' and dance the Carmagnole. We will make a brave little patriot of you!" Time went on, and gradually the poor child learned that stubbornness would prove of little avail, so he resigned himself to his cruel master with as good grace as he could. He never forgot, however, that he was a king, and his actions were always dignified and manly. His mother, failing in her demand to see him, had his books and playthings sent down, that he might both amuse himself and continue his studies. The things were all dumped into a corner in a heap. Simon 'pooh-poohed' at the books and used their pages to light his pipe. The toys he either stepped on or threw away, as the fancy took him.