Page 988 - les-miserables

these solitudes contiguous to our faubourgs, which may be
designated as the limbos of Paris, has seen here and there,
in the most desert spot, at the most unexpected moment,
behind a meagre hedge, or in the corner of a lugubrious
wall, children grouped tumultuously, fetid, muddy, dusty,
ragged, dishevelled, playing hide-and-seek, and crowned
with corn-flowers. All of them are little ones who have made
their escape from poor families. The outer boulevard is their
breathing space; the suburbs belong to them. There they are
eternally playing truant. There they innocently sing their
repertory of dirty songs. There they are, or rather, there they
exist, far from every eye, in the sweet light of May or June,
kneeling round a hole in the ground, snapping marbles with
their thumbs, quarrelling over half-farthings, irresponsible,
volatile, free and happy; and, no sooner do they catch sight
of you than they recollect that they have an industry, and
that they must earn their living, and they offer to sell you
an old woollen stocking filled with cockchafers, or a bunch
of lilacs. These encounters with strange children are one of
the charming and at the same time poignant graces of the
environs of Paris.
Sometimes there are little girls among the throng of
boys,— are they their sisters?—who are almost young
maidens, thin, feverish, with sunburnt hands, covered
with freckles, crowned with poppies and ears of rye, gay,
haggard, barefooted. They can be seen devouring cherries
among the wheat. In the evening they can be heard laugh-
ing. These groups, warmly illuminated by the full glow of
midday, or indistinctly seen in the twilight, occupy the

988 Les Miserables