ceive from good
people, it is true; but the bread that one earns, it is as we say, half
corn, half barley; it nourishes better, and then it was done, I was
no longer the woman, I was a labourer--a labourer--James earned his
living."

A sort of pride shone from his face.

"How!" said the young man, "was your cask sufficient to support you?"

"Not alone, sir; but I have still another profession."

"Another profession!"

"Ha, ha, yes, sir; the river always runs, except when it is frozen, and,
as Mr. Desgranges says, 'water-carriers do not make their fortune with
ice,' so he gave me a Winter trade and Summer trade."

"Winter trade!"

Mr. Desgranges returned at this moment--James heard him--"Is it
not true, Mr. Desgranges, that I have another trade besides that of
water-carrier?"

"Undoubtedly."

"What is it then?"

"Wood-sawyer."

"Wood-sawyer? impossible; how could you measure the length of the
sticks? how could you cut wood without cutting yourself?"

"Cut myself, sir," replied the blind man, with a pleasant shade of
confidence; "I formerly was a woodsawyer, and the saw knows me well; and
then one learns everything--I go to school, indeed. They put a pile of
wood at my left side, my saw and saw horse before me, a stick that is
to be sawed in three; I take a thread, I cut it the size of the third of
the stick--this is the measure. Every place I saw, I try it, and so it
goes on till now there is nothing burned or drunk in the village without
calling upon me."

"Without mentioning," added Mr. Desgranges, "that he is a commissioner."

"A commissioner!" said the young man, still more surprised.

"Yes, sir, when there is an errand to be done at Melun, I put my little
girl on my back, and then off I go. She sees for me, I walk for her;
those who meet me, say, 'Here is a gentleman who carries his eyes very
high;' to which I answer, 'that is so I may see the farther.' And then
at night I have twenty sous more to bring home."

"But are you not afraid of stumbling against the stones?"

"I lift my feet pretty high; and then I am used to it; I come from
Noiesemont here all alone."

"All alone! how do you find your way?"

"I find the course of the wind as I leave home, and this takes the place
of the sun with me."

"But the holes?"

"I know them all."

"And the walls?"

"I feel them. When I approach anything thick, sir, the air comes with
less force upon my face; it is but now and then that I get a hard