[节选]A START IN LIFE

Though the departures for Isle-Adam professed to take place at a fixed

hour, Pierrotin and his co-rival practised an indulgence in that

respect which won for them the grateful affection of the country-

people, and also violent remonstrances on the part of strangers

accustomed to the regularity of the great lines of public conveyances.

But the two conductors of these vehicles, which were half diligence,

half coucou, were invariably defended by their regular customers. The

afternoon departure at four o'clock usually lagged on till half-past,

while that of the morning, fixed for eight o'clock, was seldom known

to take place before nine. In this respect, however, the system was

elastic. In summer, that golden period for the coaching business, the

rule of departure, rigorous toward strangers, was often relaxed for

country customers. This method not infrequently enabled Pierrotin to

pocket two fares for one place, if a countryman came early and wanted

a seat already booked and paid for by some "bird of passage" who was,

unluckily for himself, a little late. Such elasticity will certainly

not commend itself to purists in morality; but Pierrotin and his

colleague justified it on the varied grounds of "hard times," of their

losses during the winter months, of the necessity of soon getting

better coaches, and of the duty of keeping exactly to the rules

written on the tariff, copies of which were, however, never shown,

unless some chance traveller was obstinate enough to demand it.



Pierrotin, a man about forty years of age, was already the father of a

family. Released from the cavalry on the great disbandment of 1815,

the worthy fellow had succeeded his father, who for many years had

driven a coucou of capricious flight between Paris and Isle-Adam.

Having married the daughter of a small inn-keeper, he enlarged his

business, made it a regular service, and became noted for his

intelligence and a certain military precision. Active and decided in

his ways, Pierrotin (the name seems to have been a sobriquet)

contrived to give, by the vivacity of his countenance, an expression

of sly shrewdness to his ruddy and weather-stained visage which

suggested wit. He was not without that facility of speech which is

acquired chiefly through "seeing life" and other countries. His voice,

by dint of talking to his horses and shouting "Gare!" was rough; but

he managed to tone it down with the bourgeois. His clothing, like that

of all coachmen of the second class, consisted of stout boots, heavy

with nails, made at Isle-Adam, trousers of bottle-green velveteen,

waistcoat of the same, over which he wore, while exercising his

functions, a blue blouse, ornamented on the collar, shoulder-straps

and cuffs, with many-colored embroidery. A cap with a visor covered

his head. His military career had left in Pierrotin's manners and

customs a great respect for all social superiority, and a habit of

obedience to persons of the upper classes; and though he never

willingly mingled with the lesser bourgeoisie, he always respected

women in whatever station of life they belonged. Nevertheless, by dint

of "trundling the world,"--one of his own expressions,--he had come to

look upon those he conveyed as so many walking parcels, who required

less care than the inanimate ones,--the essential object of a coaching

business.



Warned by the general movement which, since the Peace, was

revolutionizing his calling, Pierrotin would not allow himself to be

outdone by the progress of new lights. Since the beginning of the

summer season he had talked much of a certain large coach, ordered

from Farry, Breilmann, and Company, the best makers of diligences,--a

purchase necessitated by an increasing influx of travellers.

Pierrotin's present establishment consisted of two vehicles. One,

which served in winter, and the only one he reported to the tax-

gatherer, was the coucou which he inherited from his father. The

rounded flanks of this vehicle allowed him to put six travellers on

two seats, of metallic hardness in spite of the yellow Utrecht velvet

with which they were covered. These seats were separated by a wooden

bar inserted in the sides of the carriage at the height of the

travellers' shoulders, which could be placed or removed at will. This

bar, specially covered with velvet (Pierrotin called it "a back"), was

the despair of the passengers, from the great difficulty they found in

placing and removing it. If the "back" was difficult and even painful

to handle, that was nothing to the suffering caused to the omoplates

when the bar was in place. But when it was left to lie loose across

the coach, it made both ingress and egress extremely perilous,

especially to women.