XVIIII REVISIT CHIVRES
THE phalanstery andL’Esprit des Bêteshad a great success at my school, and it may be imagined what were our attempts at social reform; but our love of animals increased, and sometimes the observations of many of my schoolmates about them were interesting.
The summer came, and with it my return to Chivres for the months of July and August.
To say what was Marguerite’s delight at seeing me again, and Roussot’s (whom they had made remember me by singing to him a daily song like mine), to tell of the welcome of Marguerite’s old mother, and that of the village children, who had grown a year’s size taller, would be impossible.
Grandfather left me this time without sadness, being sure of the warm welcome I should receive.
The journey seemed much shorter this time. I was delighted to find my dear aunts again, and they were most happy at seeing me once more. They said I looked like a young lady now, which flattered me extremely.
But they were far from congratulating me on my ideas of reform according to those comprisedinL’Esprit des Bêtes, or on my interest in the Fronde, which they thought must have prevented my studying seriously; neither did they approve of my father’s formula concerning “middle-class positions which were about to break.”
There were explosions of indignation against my father, who would injure my mind with such insanities, they declared.
My aunt Constance made fun of me in such a droll way—she much resembled my grandmother in wit—that I lowered my arms before her. The bees, the ants,L’Esprit des Bêtes, often mentioned in our conversations, gave my merry great-aunt such opportunities for comical criticisms, in which my father’s ideas, upheld by me, were so ruthlessly pulled to pieces, that I gave them up.
As to my aunt Sophie, whom I took aside and endeavoured to convince of the necessity of reforms, she made me the same answer, variously expressed.
“I do not belong to this age; I find it preposterous,” she said. “Everything that is happening comes from this cause: that people now think only of rushing to cities, where they develop poverty. Believe me, my dear little niece, happiness, peace, and true riches are found only in the country.”
My revolutionary ideas were put away with my city clothes, and declared good only for Chauny. Even Marguerite said to me one day:
“Your ideas, Mam’zelle Juliette, turn poor people’s heads. They talk about them in villages. Workmen declare that their friend, Monsieur Proudhon, says that thebourgeoisehave stolen property from the nobility, and that poor people should now steal it from thebourgeoise. It is pitiful to hear such things; those who have to work should work and believe that it is only God who can give them an income in Heaven.”
I knew my two hundred and fifty Latin words well. I had determined to understand and remember aunt Sophie’s lessons, and thought in consequence that I should soon be able to read Latin, which was my dear teacher’s desire. I was very enthusiastic about it and made real progress.
During our work in the fields, which began monotonously again and took much time, aunt Sophie would tell me the Latin names of everything about us.
When I found an analogy between the Picardypatois—which I had acquired the habit of speaking with my maid Arthémise—and Latin, it pleased me so much, that aunt Sophie asked one of our relatives, a Raincourt of Saint-Quentin, tosend her an almanac in the Picardy tongue, calledThe Plowman. She then devoted herself to a veritable monk’s work in adding to my stock all the Latin words to be found in Picardypatois.The Plowman, in speaking of work in the fields, enabled me to step over a new frontier in my comprehension of the bucolics.
My aunt Sophie’s marvellous aptitude for teaching made her derive profit from everything, and one could really say of her that she taught by amusing.
There was only one new thing in our order of life: My aunt Constance, who suffered from anæmia, had need of cold douches, and the doctor ordered her to go and take them by the side of the mill-wheel. Cold baths were excellent for me, and I took one every day in the pretty wash-house of the close, so my aunt Constance took me with her every afternoon. She was as gay and as much of a child as I, and we would amuse ourselves so much that we laughed till we cried. The bathing hour at the mill became a regular frolic, and aunt Anastasie, seduced by my descriptions of it, came with us once or twice and finally always accompanied us. Soon the miller’s wife joined our party, and then Marguerite. Aunt Sophie alone resisted. She had not left the house or the closefor twenty years. Great-grandmother moved with difficulty from her arm-chair, so there was no hope of bringing her, and, besides, one of her daughters was always obliged to stay with her.
Roussot, therefore, alone remained to be asked to join us, and I invited him one day after breakfast, when he had his daily bread, by a well-turned speech intermingled with songs.
While we were laughing, Roussot answered, if not my speech at least my song, and we concluded he had accepted the invitation.
That afternoon Marguerite led him by the bridle into the little river. I was mounted on him and was going to take my plunge from his back; but the bath made him so merry that he threw me off disrespectfully into the water. He even dared to kick about and splashed us all over so much that we could not see clearly enough to drive him out of the water.
We laughed more that day than on any other, but we did not propose, however, to try again the experience of a bath in company with Roussot the next day, for he was really too free and easy in his manners.
The two months spent with my aunts seemed like two weeks. I had never until then fully realised how rapidly time can pass.
But my annual visit to Chivres was so dear to me, it had become such a joy in my life, that I should have thought myself wrong to have sorrowed over its short duration.