#x6; when he hired the chamber,, had stated that his name was Jondrette.
Some time after his moving in,, which had borne a singular resemblance to the entrance of nothing at all,, to borrow the memorable expression of the principal tenant,, this Jondrette had said to the woman,, who,, like her predecessor,, was at the same time portress and stair-sweeper: "Mother So-and-So,, if any one should chance to come and inquire for a Pole or an Italian,, or even a Spaniard,, perchance,, it is I."
This family was that of the merry barefoot boy.
He arrived there and found distress,, and,, what is still sadder,, no smile; a cold hearth and cold hearts.
When he entered,, he was asked: "Whence come you?"
"From the street."
When he went away,, they asked him:
"Whither are you going?"
He replied: "Into the streets."
His mother said to him:
"What did you come here for?"
This child lived,, in this absence of affection,, like the pale plants which spring up in cellars.
It did not cause him suffering,, and he blamed no one.
He did not know exactly how a father and mother should be.
Nevertheless,, his mother loved his sisters.
We have forgotten to mention,, that on the Boulevard du Temple this child was called Little Gavroche.
Why was he called Little Gavroche?
Probably because his father's name was Jondrette.
It seems to be the instinct of certain wretched families to break the thread.
The chamber which the Jondrettes inhabited in the Gorbeau hovel was the last at the end of the corridor.
The cell next to it was occupied by a very poor young man who was called M. Marius.
Let us explain who this M. Marius was.
BOOK SECOND.--THE GREAT BOURGEOIS
NINETY YEARS AND THIRTY-TWO TEETH
In the Rue Boucherat,, Rue de Normandie and the Rue de Saintonge there still exist a few ancient inhabitants who have preserved the memory of a worthy man named M. Gillenormand,, and who mention him with complaisance.
This good man was old when they were young. This silhouette has not yet entirely disappeared--for those who regard with melancholy that vague swarm of shadows which is called the past-- from the labyrinth of streets in the vicinity of the Temple to which,, under Louis XIV.,, the names of all the provinces of France were appended exactly as in our day,, the streets of the new Tivoli quarter have received the names of all the capitals of Europe; a progression,, by the way,, in which progress is visible.
M.Gillenormand,, who was as much alive as possible in 1831,, was one of those men who had become curiosities to be viewed,, simply because they have lived a long time,, and who are strange because they formerly resembled everybody,, and now resemble nobody. He was a peculiar old man,, and in very truth,, a man of another age,, the real,, complete and rather haughty bourgeois of the eighteenth century,, who wore his good,, old bourgeoisie with the air with which marquises wear their marquisates.
He was over ninety years of age,, his walk was erect,, he talked loudly,, saw clearly,, drank neat,, ate,, slept,, and snored.
He had all thirty-two of his teeth. He only wore spectacles when he read.
He was of an amorous disposition,, but declared that,, for the last ten years,, he had wholly and decidedly renounced women.
He could no longer please,, he said; he did not add:
"I am too old,," but:
"I am too poor."
He said: "If I were not ruined--Heee!"
All he had left,, in fact,, was an income of about fifteen thousand francs.
His dream was to come into an inheritance and to have a hundred thousand livres income for mistresses.
He did not belong,, as the reader will perceive,, to that puny variety of octogenaries who,, like M. de Voltaire,, have been dying all their life; his was no longevity of a cracked pot; this jovial old man had always had good health.
He was superficial,, rapid,, easily angered.
He flew into a passion at everything,, generally quite contrary to all reason.
When contradicted,, he raised his cane; he beat people as he had done in the great century. He had a daughter over fifty years of age,, and unmarried,, whom he chastised severely with his tongue,, when in a rage,, and whom he would have liked to whip.
She seemed to him to be eight years old. He boxed his servants' ears soundly,, and said:
"Ah! carogne!" One of his oaths was:
"By the pantoufloche of the pantouflochade!" He had singular freaks of tranquillity; he had himself shaved every day by a barber who had been mad and who detested him,, being jealous of M. Gillenormand on account of his wife,, a pretty and coquettish barberess.
M. Gillenormand admired his own discernment in all things,, and declared that he was extremely sagacious; here is one of his sayings:
"I have,, in truth,, some penetration; I am able to say when a flea bites me,, from what woman it came."
The words which he uttered the most frequently were:
the sensible man,, and nature.
He did not give to this last word the grand acceptation which our epoch has accorded to it,, but he made it enter,, after his own fashion,, into his little chimney-corner satires: "Nature,," he said,, "in order that civilization may have a little of everything,, gives it even specimens of its amusing barbarism. Europe possesses specimens of Asia and Africa on a small scale. The cat is a drawing-room tiger,, the lizard is a pocket crocodile. The dancers at the opera are pink female savages.
They do not eat men,, they crunch them; or,, magicians that they are,, they transform them into oysters and swallow them.
The Caribbeans leave only the bones,, they leave only the shell.
Such are our morals.
We do not devour,, we gnaw; we do not exterminate,, we claw."
BOOK SECOND.--THE GREAT BOURGEOIS
LIKE MASTER,, LIKE HOUSE
He lived in the Marais,, Rue des Filles-du-Calvaire,, No. 6. He owned the house.
This house has since been demolished and rebuilt,, and the number has probably been changed in those revolutions of numeration which the streets of Paris undergo.
He occupied an ancient and vast apartment on the