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The woman, bent double, was pulling, turning round occasionally to strike the donkey with a stick. As soon as he saw her, Labouise exclaimed: "Say, Mailloche!" Mailloche answered: "What's the matter?" "Want to have some fun?" "Of course!" "Then hurry, sister; we're going to have a laugh." Chicot took the oars. When he had crossed the river he stopped opposite the woman and called: "Hey, sister!"
His name was Labouise, but he was called Chicot, and was in partnership with Maillochon, commonly called Mailloche, to practice the doubtful and undefined profession of junk-gatherers along the shore. They were a low order of sailors and they navigated regularly only in the months of famine. The rest of the time they acted as junk-gatherers.
The woman, bent double, was pulling, turning round occasionally to strike the donkey with a stick. As soon as he saw her, Labouise exclaimed: "Say, Mailloche!" Mailloche answered: "What's the matter?" "Want to have some fun?" "Of course!" "Then hurry, sister; we're going to have a laugh." Chicot took the oars. When he had crossed the river he stopped opposite the woman and called: "Hey, sister!"
His companion, who had not made a motion, exclaimed: "Say, Mailloche, get your gun and see if we can't land some rabbit along the shore." The other one answered: "All right. I'll be with you in a minute." Then he disappeared, in order to hide their catch. The man who had stayed in the boat slowly filled his pipe and lighted it.
Perhaps we might make a deal." Labouise, who seemed perplexed, pretended to consult Maillochon with a glance. Then he answered in a slow voice: "This is how it is. We were in the bushes at Eperon when something passed right near us, to the left, at the end of the wall. Mailloche takes a shot and it drops. We skipped on account of the game people. I can't tell you what it is, because I don't know.
His companion, who had not made a motion, exclaimed: "Say, Mailloche, get your gun and see if we can't land some rabbit along the shore." The other one answered: "All right. I'll be with you in a minute." Then he disappeared, in order to hide their catch. The man who had stayed in the boat slowly filled his pipe and lighted it.
His name was Labouise, but he was called Chicot, and was in partnership with Maillochon, commonly called Mailloche, to practice the doubtful and undefined profession of junk-gatherers along the shore. They were a low order of sailors and they navigated regularly only in the months of famine. The rest of the time they acted as junk-gatherers.
This time he walked right up close, as he did not wish to begin the chase over again. When the poor beast had finished its mournful cry, like a last call for help, the man called: "Hey, Mailloche! Come here, sister; I'm going to give him some medicine."
Perhaps we might make a deal." Labouise, who seemed perplexed, pretended to consult Maillochon with a glance. Then he answered in a slow voice: "This is how it is. We were in the bushes at Eperon when something passed right near us, to the left, at the end of the wall. Mailloche takes a shot and it drops. We skipped on account of the game people. I can't tell you what it is, because I don't know.
This time he walked right up close, as he did not wish to begin the chase over again. When the poor beast had finished its mournful cry, like a last call for help, the man called: "Hey, Mailloche! Come here, sister; I'm going to give him some medicine."
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