clothes--that was the way he clothed them; and he shut them up at night
pell-mell with their beasts, on the same straw, in a garret, to which they
clambered by a ladder and through a trap-door--and that was the way he
lodged them. Once the beasts and children were all housed, he took away the
ladder and locked the trap-door with a key. You may imagine the noise and
uproar which these apes, guinea-pigs, foxes, mice, tortoises, marmosets,
and children made, without any light, in this garret, which was as large as
a thimble. Cut-in-half slept in a room underneath, having his large ape
Gargousse tied to the foot of the bed. When the noise was too loud in the
garret, the owner of the beasts arose, took a large whip, mounted the
ladder without a light, opened the trap, and lashed away at random. As he
always had about a dozen boys, and some of the innocents brought sometimes
as much as twenty sous a day, Cut-in-half, his expenses paid, and they were
not heavy, had for himself about four or five francs each day; with that he
frolicked, for note well that he was the greatest drinker on the earth, and
was regularly dead drunk once every day. It was his rule, he said; except
for that he would have a headache all day long; it must be said, also, that
from his gains he bought sheep's hearts for Gargousse, the big ape eating
raw meat like a very cannibal. But I see that the honorable assembly asks
for Gringalet (Walking Rushlight); here he is, gents!"

"Ay! let us see Gringalet, and then I'll go and eat my soup," said the
keeper. Skeleton exchanged a look of ferocious satisfaction with the
Cripple.

"Among the children to whom Cut-in-half distributed his beasts," resumed
Pique-Vinaigre, "there was a poor little devil nicknamed Gringalet. Without
father or mother, without sister or brother, without a home, he found
himself alone--all alone in the world, where he never asked to come, and
whence he could have gone, without anybody caring at all about it. He was