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Updated: July 16, 2025
Of course if I got run in on the way for stealing, or as a rogue and vagabond, I couldn't say how long it would take." The meal was over, and the old woman was quietly washing up her few plates and dishes, when Bouzille, who had gone down to the river to fetch the rushes, suddenly called shrilly to mother Chiquard. "Mother Chiquard! Mother Chiquard! Come and look!
It need not be said that Bouzille had closed with the offer. But getting tired of cooling his heels on the doorstep, he had gradually taken to leaving his train on the pavement and himself going down into the basement hall, where he generously returned his five francs every night to the proprietor, in exchange for potations to that amount.
So whoever wanted to make a friend of the old woman only had to volunteer to get the rushes out for her. As he ate, Bouzille told mother Chiquard of his plans for the coming spring. "Yes," he said, "since I'm not doing any time this winter I'm going to undertake a long journey." He stopped munching for a second and paused for greater effect. "I am going to Paris, mother Chiquard!"
His train had been confiscated for forty-eight hours, but as there was nothing really to be objected against the tramp, he had merely been requested to make himself scarce, and not to do it again. Bouzille did not quite know what to make of it all.
Nudging his neighbour every now and then he whispered: "Say, where do you come from? You're not from these parts, are you? I've never seen you before have I? Everybody round here knows me: Bouzille my name's Bouzille," and turning to the gendarme he said: "Isn't it true, M'sieu Morand, that you and I are old acquaintances? This is the fourth or fifth time you've pinched me, isn't it?"
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