Page 115 - down-and-out-in-paris-and-london

XVIII

harlie told us a good story one Saturday night in the
CBISTRO. Try and picture him—drunk, but sober
enough to talk consecutively. He bangs on the zinc bar and
yells for silence:
‘Silence, MESSIEURS ET DAMES—silence, I implore
you! Listen to this story, that I am about to tell you. A
memorable story, an instructive story, one of the souve-
nirs of a refined and civilized life. Silence, MESSIEURS ET
DAMES!
‘It happened at a time when I was hard up. You know
what that is like —how damnable, that a man of refinement
should ever be in such a condition. My money had not come
from home; I had pawned everything, and there was noth-
ing open to me except to work, which is a thing I will not do.
I was living with a girl at the time—Yvonne her name was—
a great half-witted peasant girl like Azaya there, with yellow
hair and fat legs. The two of us had eaten nothing in three
days. MON DIEU, what sufferings! The girl used to walk up
and down the room with her hands on her belly, howling
like a dog that she was dying of starvation. It was terrible.
‘But to a man of intelligence nothing is impossible. I pro-
pounded to myself the question, ‘What is the easiest way to
get money without working?’ And immediately the answer
came: ‘To get money easily one must be a woman. Has not

11 Down and Out in Paris and London