, was nevertheless a well paid one, at which ten and even
twelve francs a day could be earned. The youngster, who was then twelve
years old, would soon be able to go in for it, if the calling was to his
liking. And Etienne had thus become another link between the laundress
and the blacksmith. The latter would bring the child home and speak of
his good conduct. Everyone laughingly said that Goujet was smitten
with Gervaise. She knew it, and blushed like a young girl, the flush of
modesty coloring her cheeks with the bright tints of an apple. The poor
fellow, he was never any trouble! He never made a bold gesture or an
indelicate remark. You didn't find many men like him. Gervaise didn't
want to admit it, but she derived a great deal of pleasure from being
adored like this. Whenever a problem arose she thought immediately of
the blacksmith and was consoled. There was never any awkward tension
when they were alone together. They just looked at each other and smiled
happily with no need to talk. It was a very sensible kind of affection.

Towards the end of the summer, Nana quite upset the household. She was
six years old and promised to be a thorough good-for-nothing. So as not
to have her always under her feet her mother took her every morning to
a little school in the Rue Polonceau kept by Mademoiselle Josse. She
fastened her playfellows' dresses together behind, she filled the
school-mistress's snuff-box with ashes, and invented other tricks much
less decent which could not be mentioned. Twice Mademoiselle Josse
expelled her and then took her back again so as not to lose the six
francs a month. Directly lessons were over Nana avenged herself for
having been kept in by making an infernal noise under the porch and in
the courtyard where the ironers, whose ears could not stand the racket,
sent her to play. There she would meet Pauline, the Boches' daughter,
and Victor, the son of Gervaise's old employer--a big booby of ten who
delighted in playing with very little girls. Madame Fauconnier who
had not quarreled with the Coupeaus would herself send her son. In
the house, too, there was an extraordinary swarm of brats, flights of
children who rolled down the four staircases at all hours of the day and
alighted on the pavement of the courtyard like troops of noisy pillaging
sparrows. Madame Gaudron was responsible for nine of them, all with
uncombed hair, runny noses, hand-me-down clothes, saggy stockings and
ripped jackets. Ano