Nobody's Girl (En Famille) — Reading Notes

There was no occasion to worry about him now, so she amused herself with watching what was going on around her.

A little boy about her own age, dressed up like a clown, and who evidently belonged to the circus caravans standing in the rear, had been strolling round her for ten long minutes, without being able to attract her attention. At last he decided to speak to her.

"That's a fine donkey," he remarked.

"It don't belong to this country. If it does, I'm astonished."

She was looking at him, and thinking that after all he looked rather like a nice boy, she thought she would reply.

"He comes from Greece," she said.

"That's why he's called Palikare."

But in spite of his broad grin he was not at all sure why a donkey that came from Greece should be called Palikare.

"Is it far ... Greece?"

"Farther than ... China?"

"No, but it's a long way off."

"Then yer come from Greece, then?"

"No, farther than that."

"No, but Palikare's the only one that comes from Greece."

"Are you going to the Fair?"

"I know that, but where yer goin' to put up that there cart?"

"We've been told that there are some free places round the fortifications."

The little clown slapped his thighs with his two hands.

"The fortifications: _Oh la la!_"

"Isn't there any place?"

"It ain't the place for you ... round the fortifications! Have yer got any men with yer? Big strong men who are not afraid of a stab from a dagger. One who can give a jab as well as take one."

"There is only my mother and me, and mother is ill."

"Do you think much of that donkey?" he asked quickly.

"Well, the first thing he'll be stolen. He'll be gone tomorrow. Then the rest'll come after, and it's Fatty as tells yer so."

"Should say so! You've never been to Paris before?"

"That's easy to see. Some fools told you where to put your cart up, but you can't put it there. Why don't you go to Grain-of-Salt?"

"I don't know Grain-of-Salt."

"Why, he owns the Guillot Fields. You needn't be afraid of him, and he'd shoot anybody who tried to get in his place."

"Will it cost much to go there?"

"It costs a lot in winter, when everybody comes to Paris, but at this time I'm sure he won't make you pay more than forty sous a week. And your donkey can find its food in the field. Does he like thistles?"

"I should say he does like them!"

"Well, then, this is just the place for him, and Grain-of-Salt isn't a bad chap," said the little clown with a satisfied air.

"Is that his name ... Grain-of-Salt?"

"They call him that 'cause he's always thirsty. He's only got one arm."

"Is his place far from here?"

"No, at Charonne; but I bet yer don't even know where Charonne is?"

"I've never been to Paris before."

"Well, then, it's over there." He waved his arms vaguely in a northerly direction.

"Once you have passed through the Gates, you turn straight to the right," he explained, "and you follow the road all along the fortifications for half an hour, then go down a wide avenue, then turn to your left, and then ask where the Guillot Field is. Everybody knows it."

"Thank you. I'll go and tell mama. If you'll stand beside Palikare for a minute, I'll go and tell her at once."

"Sure, I'll mind him for yer. I'll ask him to teach me Greek."

"And please don't let him eat that straw."

Perrine went inside the caravan and told her mother what the little clown had said.

"If that is so," said the sick woman, "we must not hesitate; we must go to Charonne. But can you find the way?"

"Yes, it's easy enough. Oh, mother," she added, as she was going out, "there are such a lot of wagons outside; they have printed on them 'Maraucourt Factories,' and beneath that the name, 'Vulfran Paindavoine.' There are all kinds of barrels and things in the carts. Such a number!"

"There is nothing remarkable in that, my child," said the woman.

"Yes, but it's strange to see so many wagons with the same name on them," replied the girl as she left the caravan.

Perrine found the donkey with his nose buried in the straw, which he was eating calmly.

"Why, you're letting him eat it!" she cried to the boy.

"Well, why not?" he retorted.

"And if the man is angry?"

"He'd better not be with me," said the small boy, putting himself in a position to fight and throwing his head back.