"Here is the Clef des Songes--the 'Key of Dreams'--with the explanation of any dreams that anybody can have; dreams of gold, dreams of robbers, dreams of death, dreams of falling from the top of a tower....It is exhaustive."I had taken hold of the tongs, and, brandishing them energetically, Ireplied to my commercial visitor:
"Yes, my friend; but those dreams and a thousand others, joyous or tragic, are all summed up in one--the Dream of Life; is your little yellow book able to give me the key to that?""Yes, Monsieur," answered the homunculus; "the book is complete, and it is not dear--one franc twenty-five centimes, Monsieur."I called my housekeeper--for there is no bell in my room--and said to her:
"Therese, Monsieur Coccoz--whom I am going to ask you to show out--has a book here which might interest you: the 'Key of Dreams.' I shall be very glad to buy it for you."My housekeeper responded:
"Monsieur, when one has not even time to dream awake, one has still less time to dream asleep.Thank God, my days are just enough for my work and my work for my days, and I am able to say every night, 'Lord, bless Thou the rest which I am going to take.' I never dream, either on my feet or in bed; and I never mistake my eider-down coverlet for a devil, as my cousin did; and, if you will allow me to give my opinion about it, I think you have books enough here now.Monsieur has thousands and thousands of books, which simply turn his head; and as for me, I have just tow, which are quite enough for all my wants and purposes--my Catholic prayer-book and my Cuisiniere Bourgeoise."And with those words my housekeeper helped the little man to fasten up his stock again within the green toilette.
The homunculus Coccoz had ceased to smile.His relaxed features took such an expression of suffering that I felt sorry to have made fun of so unhappy a man.I called him back, and told him that I had caught a glimpse of a copy of the "Histoire d'Estelle et de Nemorin,"which he had among his books; that I was very fond of shepherds and shepherdesses, and that I would be quite willing to purchase, at a reasonable price, the story of these two perfect lovers.
"I will sell you that book for one franc twenty-five centimes, Monsieur," replied Coccoz, whose face at once beamed with joy."It is historical; and you will be pleased with it.I know now just what suits you.I see that you are a connoisseur.To-morrow I will bring you the Crimes des Papes.It is a good book.I will bring you the edition d'amateur, with coloured plates."I begged him not to do anything of the sort, and sent him away happy.
When the green toilette and the agent had disappeared in the shadow of the corridor I asked my housekeeper whence this little man had dropped upon us.
"Dropped is the word," she answered; "he dropped on us from the roof, Monsieur, where he lives with his wife.""You say he has a wife, Therese? That is marvelous! Women are very strange creatures! This one must be a very unfortunate little woman.""I don't really know what she is," answered Therese; "but every morning I see her trailing a silk dress covered with grease-spots over the stairs.She makes soft eyes at people.And, in the name of common sense! does it become a woman that has been received here out of charity to make eyes and to wear dresses like that? For they allowed the couple to occupy the attic during the time the roof was being repaired, in consideration of the fact that the husband is sick and the wife in an interesting condition.The concierge even says that the pain came on her this morning, and that she is now confined.They must have been very badly off for a child!""Therese," I replied, "they had no need of a child, doubtless.But Nature had decided that they should bring one into the world; Nature made them fall into her snare.One must have exceptional prudence to defeat Nature's schemes.Let us be sorry for them and not blame them! As for silk dresses, there is no young woman who does not like them.The daughters of Eve adore adornment.You yourself, Therese--who are so serious and sensible--what a fuss you make when you have no white apron to wait at table in! But, tell me, have they got everything necessary in their attic?""How could they have it, Monsieur?" my housekeeper made answer.
"The husband, whom you have just seen, used to be a jewellery-peddler--at least, so the concierge tells me--and nobody knows why he stopped selling watches.you have just seen that his is now selling almanacs.That is no way to make an honest living, and I never will believe that God's blessing can come to an almanac-peddler.Between ourselves, the wife looks to me for all the world like a good-for-nothing--a Marie-couche toi-la.I think she would be just as capable of bringing up a child as I should be of playing the guitar.Nobody seems to know where they came from; but I am sure they must have come by Misery's coach from the country of Sans-souci.""Wherever they have come from, Therese, they are unfortunate; and their attic is cold.""Pardi!--the roof is broken in several places and the rain comes through in streams.They have neither furniture nor clothing.Idon't think cabinet-makers and weavers work much for Christians of that sect!""That is very sad, Therese; a Christian woman much less well provided for than this pagan, Hamilcar here!--what does she have to say?""Monsieur, I never speak to those people; I don't know what she says or what she sings.But she sings all day long; I hear her from the stairway whenever I am going out or coming in.""Well! the heir of the Coccoz family will be able to say, like the Egg in the village riddle: Ma mere me fit en chantant.["My mother sang when she brought me into the world."] The like happened in the case of Henry IV.When Jeanne d'Albret felt herself about to be confined she began to sing an old Bearnaise canticle:
"Notre-Dame du bout du pont, Venez a mon aide en cette heure!
Priez le Dieu du ciel Qu'il me delivre vite, Qu'il me donne un garcon!
