Ange Pitou by Alexandre Dumas part one

“No; come now, tell me, what would you require to live?”

“Zounds! about three pounds of bread daily.”

“And with your bread?”

“A little butter or cheese.”

“Well, well,” said the farmer; “I see it will not be very expensive to keep you in food. My lad, you shall be fed.”

“Monsieur Pitou,” said Catherine, ” had you not something to ask my father?”

“Who? I, Mademoiselle! Oh, good Lord, no!”

“And why was it that you came here, then?”

“Because you were coming here.”

“Ah!” cried Catherine, “that is really very gallant; but I accept compliments only at their true value. You came, Monsieur Pitou, to ask my father if he had any news of your protector.”

“Ah, that is true!” replied Pitou. “Well, now, how very droll! I had forgotten that altogether.”

“You are speaking of our worthy Monsieur Gilbert?” said the farmer, in a tone which evinced the very high consideration he felt for his landlord.

“Precisely,” said Pitou. “But I have no longer any need of him; and since Monsieur Billot takes me into his house, I can tranquilly wait his return from America.”

“In that case, my friend, you will not have to wait long, for he has returned.”

“Really!” cried Pitou; “and when did he arrive?”

“I do not know exactly; but what I know is, that he was at Havre a week ago; for I have in my holsters a packet which comes from him, which he sent to me as soon as he arrived, and which was delivered to me this very morning at Villers-Cotterets; and in proof of that, here it is.”

“Who was it told you that it was from him, Father?” said Catherine.

“Why, zounds! since there is a letter in the packet—”

“Excuse me, Father,” said Catherine, smiling, “but I thought that you could not read. I only say this, Father, because you make a boast of not knowing how to read.”

“Yes, I do boast of it. I wish that people should say, ‘Father Billot owes nothing to any man,—not even a schoolmaster. Father Billot made his fortune himself.’ That is what I wish people to say. It was not, therefore, I who read the letter. It was the quartermaster of the gendarmerie, whom I happened to meet.”

“And what did this letter tell you, Father? He is always well satisfied with us, is he not?”

“Judge for yourself.”

And the farmer drew from his leather wallet a letter, which he handed to his daughter. Catherine read as follows:—

MY DEAR MONSIEUR BILLOT,—I have arrived from America, where I found a people richer, greater, and happier than the people of our country. This arises from their being free, which we are not. But we are also advanced toward a new era. Every one should labor to hasten the day when the light shall shine. I know your principles, Monsieur Billot. I know your influence over your brother farmers, and over the whole of that worthy population of workmen and laborers whom you order, not as a king, but as a father. Inculcate in them principles of self-devotedness and fraternity, which I have observed that you possess. Philosophy is universal: all men ought to read their duties by the light of its torch. I send you a small book, in which all these duties and all these rights are set forth. This little book was written by me, although my name does not appear upon the titlepage. Propagate the principles it contains, which are those of universal equality. Let it be read aloud in the long winter evenings. Reading is the pasture of the mind, as bread is the food of the body.

One of these days I shall go to see you, and propose to you a new system of farm-letting, which is much in use in America. It consists in dividing the produce of the land between the farmer and landlord. This appears to me more in conformity with the laws of primitive society, and above all more in accordance with the goodness of God. Health and fraternity.

HONORÉ GILBERT,

Citizen of Philadelphia.

“Oh! oh!” cried Pitou; “this is a well-written letter.”

“Is it not?” said Billot, delighted.

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