e last
chicken of a brood; behind us came the bride and groom, who always
stayed behind, a thing that often made me turn round.

"The whistle sounded. We got on board, and the vessel, leaving the
breakwater, forged ahead through a sea as flat as a marble table. We
watched the coast disappear in the distance, happy and proud, like all
who do not travel much.

"My father was swelling out his chest in the breeze, beneath his frock
coat, which had that morning been very carefully cleaned; and he spread
around him that odor of benzine which always made me recognize Sunday.
Suddenly he noticed two elegantly dressed ladies to whom two gentlemen
were offering oysters. An old, ragged sailor was opening them with his
knife and passing them to the gentlemen, who would then offer them to
the ladies. They ate them in a dainty manner, holding the shell on a
fine handkerchief and advancing their mouths a little in order not to
spot their dresses. Then they would drink the liquid with a rapid little
motion and throw the shell overboard.

"My father was probably pleased with this delicate manner of eating
oysters on a moving ship. He considered it good form, refined, and,
going up to my mother and sisters, he asked:

"'Would you like me to offer you some oysters?'

"My mother hesitated on account of the expense, but my two sisters
immediately accepted. My mother said in a provoked manner:

"'I am afraid that they will hurt my stomach. Offer the children some,
but not too much, it would make them sick.' Then, turning toward me, she
added:

"'As for Joseph, he doesn't need any. Boys shouldn't be spoiled.'

"However, I remained beside my mother, finding this discrimination
unjust. I watched my father as he pompously conducted my two sisters and
his son-in-law toward the ragged old sailor.

"The two ladies had just left, and my father showed my sisters how to
eat them without spilling the liquor. He even tried to give them an
example, and seized an oyster. He attempted to imitate the ladies, and
immediately spilled all the liquid over his coat. I heard my mother
mutter:

"'He would do far better to keep quiet.'

"But, suddenly, my father appeared to be worried; he retreated a few
steps, stared at his family gathered around the old shell opener, and
quickly came toward us. He seemed very pale, with a peculiar look. In a
low voice he said to my mother:

"'It's extraordinary how that man opening the oysters looks like Jules.'