hey do. If I can't do it, then that I have tried
to do it will be endorsed on the foot of the bill."

No one could move him, not even Judge Carcasson, who from his armchair
in Montreal wrote a feeble-handed letter begging him to believe that
it was "well within his rights as a gentleman"--this he put in at
the request of M. Mornay--to take advantage of the privileges of
the Bankruptcy Court. Even then Jean Jacques had only a few moments'
hesitation. What the Judge said made a deep impression; but he had
determined to drink the cup of his misfortune to the dregs. He was set
upon complete renunciation; on going forth like a pilgrim from the place
of his troubles and sorrows, taking no gifts, no mercies save those
which heaven accorded him.

When the day of the auction came everything went. Even his best suit
of clothes was sold to a blacksmith, while his fur-coat was bought by a
horse-doctor for fifteen dollars. Things that had been part of his life
for a generation found their way into hands where he would least have
wished them to go--of those who had been envious of him, who had cheated
or deceived him, of people with whom he had had nothing in common. The
red wagon and the pair of little longtailed stallions, which he had
driven for six years, were bought by the owner of a rival flour-mill in
the parish of Vilray; but his best sleigh, with its coon-skin robes,
was bought by the widow of Palass Poucette, who bought also the famous
bearskin which Dolores had given her at Jean Jacques' expense, and had
been returned by her to its proper owner. The silver fruitdish, once (it
was said) the property of the Baron of Beaugard, which each generation
of Barbilles had displayed with as much ceremony as though it was a
chalice given by the Pope, went to Virginie Poucette. Virginie also
bought the furniture from Zoe's bedroom as it stood, together with the
little upright piano on which she used to play. The Cure bought Jean
Jacques' writing-desk, and M. Fille purchased his armchair, in which had
sat at least six Barbilles as owners of the Manor. The beaver-hat which
Jean Jacques wore on state occasions, as his grandfather had done,
together with the bonnet rouge of the habitant, donned by him in his
younger days--they fell to the nod of Mere Langlois, who declared that,
as she was a cousin, she would keep the things in the family. Mere
Langlois would have bought the fruit-dish also if she could have
afforded to bid against Virgin