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Updated: May 1, 2025
He spread out the rough garb before me. I glanced at it carelessly. "Did the former wearer kill HIS wife'" I asked, with a slight smile. The old rag-picker shook his head and made a sign with his outspread fingers expressive of contempt. "Not he! He was a fool He killed himself" "How was that? By accident or design?" "Che! Che! He knew very well what he was doing.
He would pull curiosities from them, transparent pebbles found on the banks of the Seine, pieces of old iron, dried berries, and all sorts of strange rubbish, which not even a rag-picker would have cared for.
"It means that now the year is returning toward the light again," said the old night-watchman. "No; it stands for the joy of the shepherds over the birth of Christ," said the rag-picker, stepping into the doorway. "The shepherds were poor folks, like ourselves, who lived in the darkness. That's why they rejoiced so over Him, because He came with the light."
A pause succeeded, and the rag-picker, yielding to that necessity for boasting which lies at the bottom of man, added: "In the morning, on my return home, I pick over my basket, I sort my things. This makes heaps in my room.
"You can't get through any longer," said the old rag-picker; "Pipman's whole garret is burning, and there are no more up here. God in heaven have mercy on the poor souls over there!" In spite of this, Pelle tried to find a way over the attics, but was forced to turn back. The men had fetched the fire-escape, and had with difficulty brought it through the entry and had set it up!
He is a wanderer, he has a passion for travel, he sets out at night to see the curiosities of Paris. One, two, three, four; the queen of spades! It is a woman who manufactures ermine fur out of cat-skin. One, two, three, four; the knave of spades! It is a rag-picker. One, two, three, four; the king of spades! It is a restaurant-keeper. The falling together of these three persons alarms me.
He is like a Paris rag-picker, and his basket of life is full of the garbage he has raked from the gutter." "And the woman?" "The woman! To hear you say the woman one would think there was but one in the world. The King told me of no woman." "Then I am not likely to get drunk in Amboise, unless your rag-picker pours the wine. 'Heigh ho! Love is the sun, Love is the moon and the stars by night.
A few days ago an old rag-picker was seen outside the Tartar Wall shambling along half dazed towards the Water-Gate, which runs in under the Great Wall into the dry canal in our centre. The Chinese sharpshooters saw him and must have thought him a messenger. Soon their rifles crashed at him, and the old man fell hit, but remained alive.
I must look after myself and I'm doing quite well." "You are to come home with me the children miss you, and Ellen asks after you day after day." "Yes, that would be very welcome.... But I know what folks would think if I were to take the food out of your children's mouths! Besides I'm a rag-picker now! No, you mustn't lead me into temptation."
His sunken eyes, overtopped by heavy black brows and surrounded by discolored circles, his nose, thin and sharp like the blade of a knife, the strongly marked jawbone, the hollow cheeks, and the oblong tendency of all these lines, together with his unnaturally long and flat chin, contributed to give a peculiar expression to his countenance, something between that of a retired professor of rhetoric and a rag-picker.
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