George took from a corner a pretty little shining walnut table of the shape of the trays used by patients for eating on in their beds. After placing upon it the bowl of soup, he gently pushed it in front of the old man.
"There is none like you, my boy, for such thoughtfulness," observed the grandfather.
"It would have been a devilish thing, grandfather, if, with all my carpenter's skill, I had failed to put together this little table that is so handy for you."
"Oh! You have an answer for everything – I know that," observed the old man, smiling.
And with a shaky hand he began his meal. So tremulous were his motions that several times the spoon struck against his teeth.
"Oh, my poor boy!" exclaimed the old man sadly. "Just see how my hands tremble. It seems to me they grow worse every day."
"Nonsense, grandfather! To me, on the contrary, your hands seem to be growing steadier – "
"Oh, no! 'Tis all over – all over. There is no remedy can bring me help in my infirmity."
"Why, do you prefer me to take your hopeless view of the case – "
"That's just what I should have done since this affliction began. And, yet, I can not accustom myself to the idea of being an invalid, and a burden to others unto the end of my life."
"Grandfather! Grandfather! If you talk that way we shall have to fall out."
"I wonder what made me commit the stupidity of taking to the trade of gilder of metals. At the end of twenty years, often before that, one-half of those artisans shake like myself; but, differently from myself, they have no grandchildren who spoil them – "
"Grandfather!"
"Yes, you spoil me; I repeat it – you spoil me – "
"Let it be so! Now, then, I shall give you tit for tat; it is the only way to spike your guns, as we were taught in the regiment. Well, I knew a fine man; his name was father Morin; he was a widower with a daughter of about eighteen. The worthy man married his daughter to a gallant young fellow, but over-much given to resent wrong, and one day he received an ugly blow in a fight, so ugly that two years after his marriage he died, leaving his young wife with a boy in her arms."
"George! George!"
"The poor young mother nursed her child. Her husband's death was such a shock to her that she followed him shortly after – and her little boy remained upon the hands of his grandfather."
"Good God, George! How merciless you are! What is the sense in ever coming back to all that?"
"He loved the boy so much that he would not part with him. During the day, when he had to work in the shop, a good neighbor kept the urchin with her. But, the instant the grandfather returned home, he had but one thought on his mind, but one cry on his lips – 'My little George.' He looked after him as lovingly as the best and tenderest of mothers. He ruined himself getting pretty clothes and pretty hats for the chap. He rigged the little fellow up to his own taste, and the grandfather was very proud of his grandchild. And so it came about that all the people in the neighborhood, who loved the worthy man greatly, began to call him the nurse-father."
"But, George!"
"In that way he brought up the boy, cared for him night and day, attended to all his needs, sent him to school, then to his apprenticeship, until – "
"So much the worse!" cried out the old man, unable any longer to contain himself. "Seeing we are to tell the truth to each other, I shall have my turn, and we shall see! First of all, you were the son of my daughter Georgiana, whom I doted upon. I only did my duty – take that, to begin with – "
"Neither have I done any more than my duty."
"You? Don't tell me that!" cried the old man, vehemently brandishing his spoon. "You! This is what you did: Good luck saved you from drawing the lot of going into the army – "
"Grandfather! Take care!"
"Oh, you can not frighten me!"
"You will upset your bowl of soup if you go on in that way."
"I 'go on'! The devil take it! Do you think I have no blood left in my veins? Yes, answer, you who are always speaking of other people! When my infirmity began, what is it that you did, unhappy boy? You went in search of a merchant of men."
"Grandfather, your soup will grow cold; for heaven's sake take it while it is warm."
"Ta, ta, ta! You want to shut my mouth. I am not your dupe. Yes! And what did you say to the merchant of men? 'My grandfather is ailing; he can hardly any longer earn his living; I am his only support; I may fail him, either through sickness, or through lack of work; he is old; secure to him a little life annuity, and I shall sell myself to you.' And you did it!" cried the old man with tears in his eyes, and raising his spoon to the ceiling with such vehemence that, if George had not quickly seized the table it would have tumbled down to the floor with the bowl of soup and all.
The young man exclaimed:
"'Sdeath, grandfather! Keep quiet! You are carrying on like the devil in a sacristy. You will upset everything."
"I don't care! It will not keep me from telling you why and how it came about that you became a soldier, and how you sold yourself for me – to a merchant of men – "
"All that talk is a pretext to keep you from eating your soup. I see, you think it is not well made."
"Just listen to him! I, find his soup bad! Well, well!" exclaimed the old man in pitiful accents, "That devil of a boy has made up his mind to break my heart!"
Father Morin furiously dipped his spoon into the bowl, and precipitately carrying it to his mouth said while eating: "You see – you see – how bad I find your soup – see-see – Oh! it is bad – see – see – Oh, I don't like it at all!"
"For heaven's sake, now you are going too fast," cried George, holding back his grandfather's arm. "You will choke yourself."
"That's also your fault! To tell me I find your soup bad, while it tastes delicious!" complained the old man, moderating his pace and smacking his lips with great gusto. "It is the gods' own nectar!"
"Without vainglory," replied George, smiling, "I enjoyed a great reputation in the regiment for my leek soup. Good, I shall now fill your pipe."
George then leaned over to the old man and said to him as he patted him on the back:
"That's right – my good old grandfather loves to pull at his little pipe in his bed, do you not?"
"What shall I say, George? You turn me into a Pacha; aye, a Pacha!" answered the old man, while his grandson went for the pipe that lay on a table, filled it with tobacco, lighted it, and presented it to old father Morin. The old man was thereupon propped up well in his bed, and began to smoke his delicious pipe.
George sat down at the foot of the bed, and said:
"What do you propose to do to-day?"
"I shall take my little stroll on the boulevard, where, if the weather is good, I shall sit down for a while on a bench."
"Hem! Grandfather, I think you would better postpone your promenade. You must have noticed yesterday how large the crowds were that gathered at several places. They almost came to blows with the municipalists and city sergeants. It may be even worse to-day."
"I know it, my boy. Are you taking a hand in these tussles? I know full well how tempting it is to do so when one's rights are invaded. It is unworthy of the government to forbid the banquets. But I shall feel very uneasy on your score."
"You need not feel uneasy about me, grandfather. There is nothing to fear, as far as I am concerned. But take my advice. Do not go out to-day."
"Very well, my boy, I shall stay indoors. I shall entertain myself a little reading your books, and shall look at the passers-by from the window, smoking my pipe the while."
"Poor grandfather,"