The Works of Guy de Maupassant

VOLUME II

MONSIEUR PARENT AND OTHER STORIES

COPYRIGHT, 1909, BY
BIGELOW, SMITH & CO.

CONTENTS

MONSIEUR PARENT
THE FATHER
A VAGABOND
USELESS BEAUTY
FLY
THE MAD WOMAN
THAT PIG OF A MORIN
THE WOODEN SHOES
A NORMANDY JOKE
A COCK CROWED
JULOT'S OPINION
MADEMOISELLE
THE MOUNTEBANKS
THE SEQUEL TO A DIVORCE
THE MAN WITH THE DOGS
THE CLOWN
BABETTE
SYMPATHY
THE DEBT
AN ARTIST
MADEMOISELLE FIFI
THE STORY OF A FARM-GIRL
MAMMA STIRLING
LILIE LALA
MADAME TELLIER'S ESTABLISHMENT
THE BANDMASTER'S SISTER
FALSE ALARM
WIFE AND MISTRESS
MAD
AN UNFORTUNATE LIKENESS
THE NEW SENSATION

MONSIEUR PARENT

I

Little George was making hills of sand in one of the walks; he took it up with both his hands, made it into a pyramid, and then put a chestnut leaf on the top, and his father, sitting on an iron chair was looking at him with concentrated and affectionate attention, and saw nobody but him in that small public garden which was full of people. All along the circular road other children were occupied in the same manner, or else were indulging in childish games, while nursemaids were walking two and two, with their bright cap ribbons floating behind them, and carrying something wrapped up in lace, on their arms, and little girls in short petticoats and bare legs were talking seriously together, during the intervals of trundling their hoops.

The sun was just disappearing behind the roofs of the Rue Saint-Lazare, but still shed its rays obliquely on that little over-dressed crowd. The chestnut trees were lighted up with its yellow rays, and the three fountains before the lofty porch of the church, had the appearance of liquid silver.

Monsieur Parent looked at his son sitting in the dusk, he followed his slightest movements with affection, but accidentally looking up at the church clock, he saw that he was five minutes late, so he got up, took the child by the arm and shook his dress which was covered with sand, wiped his hands and led him in the direction of the Rue Blanche, and he walked quickly, so as not to get in after his wife, but as the child could not keep up with him, he took him up and carried him, though it made him pant when he had to walk up the steep street. He was a man of forty, turning gray already, rather stout, and had married, a few years previously, a young woman whom he dearly loved, but who now treated him with the severity and authority of an all-powerful despot. She found fault with him continually for everything that he did, or did not do, reproached him bitterly for his slightest acts, his habits, his simple pleasures, his tastes, his movements and walk, and for having a round stomach and a placid voice.

He still loved her, however, but above all he loved the child which he had had by her, and George, who was now three, had become the greatest joy, and