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Updated: May 21, 2025
It's so that you may have more good things to eat in your basket." All at once, he heard a shout behind him; it was the portress Patagon who had followed him, and who was shaking her fist at him in the distance and crying: "You're nothing but a bastard." "Oh! Come now," said Gavroche, "I don't care a brass farthing for that!" Shortly afterwards, he passed the Hotel Lamoignon.
"What's the matter with you, brats?" "We don't know where we are to sleep," replied the elder. "Is that all?" said Gavroche. "A great matter, truly. The idea of bawling about that. They must be greenies!" And adopting, in addition to his superiority, which was rather bantering, an accent of tender authority and gentle patronage: "Come along with me, young 'uns!" "Yes, sir," said the elder.
She caught up her blouse and bit it, and her limbs stiffened on the pavement. At that moment the young cock's crow executed by little Gavroche resounded through the barricade. The child had mounted a table to load his gun, and was singing gayly the song then so popular: "En voyant Lafayette, "On beholding Lafayette, Le gendarme repete: The gendarme repeats: Sauvons nous! sauvons nous!
A musket of large model had fallen to his share, and he held it between his legs. Gavroche, who had been, up to that moment, distracted by a hundred "amusing" things, had not even seen this man. When he entered, Gavroche followed him mechanically with his eyes, admiring his gun; then, all at once, when the man was seated, the street urchin sprang to his feet.
"You can't tell," replied Montparnasse with an indifferent air. "It's always a good thing to have a pin about one." Gavroche persisted: "What are you up to to-night?" Again Montparnasse took a grave tone, and said, mouthing every syllable: "Things." And abruptly changing the conversation: "By the way!" "What?" "Something happened t'other day. Fancy. I meet a bourgeois.
"What is the matter with you, my little fellow?" he said. "The matter with me is that I am hungry," replied Gavroche frankly. And he added: "Little fellow yourself." Jean Valjean fumbled in his fob and pulled out a five-franc piece. But Gavroche, who was of the wagtail species, and who skipped vivaciously from one gesture to another, had just picked up a stone. He had caught sight of the lantern.
At the same time Gavroche grasped the little fellow's hand across his brother. The child pressed the hand close to him, and felt reassured. Courage and strength have these mysterious ways of communicating themselves.
Hullo, here's a glass door." This elicited an exclamation from the workers. "A glass door? what do you expect us to do with a glass door, tubercle?" "Hercules yourselves!" retorted Gavroche. "A glass door is an excellent thing in a barricade. It does not prevent an attack, but it prevents the enemy taking it. So you've never prigged apples over a wall where there were broken bottles?
His body was coiled up on this inclined plane and his feet touched the ground. Gavroche, with his experience of the things of this world, recognized a drunken man. He was some corner errand-man who had drunk too much and was sleeping too much. "There now," thought Gavroche, "that's what the summer nights are good for. We'll take the cart for the Republic, and leave the Auvergnat for the Monarchy."
And in another instant, the small lad was pushed, dragged, pulled, thrust, stuffed into the hole, before he had time to recover himself, and Gavroche, entering behind him, and repulsing the ladder with a kick which sent it flat on the grass, began to clap his hands and to cry: "Here we are! Long live General Lafayette!" This explosion over, he added: "Now, young 'uns, you are in my house."
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