ement, even when rudely come by.

The boatman seemed an honest poor fellow. Sometimes he exchanged
greetings and jokes with other boatmen; sometimes he sang snatches
of plaintive songs, such as

"N'erount tres freres
N'erount tres freres
N'haut qu'une soeur a marida:"

for his mother was from Languedoc. At other times he talked to me
quietly.

"Yours seems a contented, merry life, said I.

"Well, I make it so," said he. "Where is the good of picking up
troubles? they come sure enough. Once I was foolish enough to think
'What a poor lot is this, to be pulling a market-boat up and down
stream, with greens for the seafaring men, while others go riding on
horseback or in carriages, wear fine clothes, feast every day, and go to
theatres at night.' But when the dragoons came I was thankful to be what
I was. Did you hear what happened to Collette at our place? Collette was
the prettiest girl of our village, and a good girl, but a thought too
vain. Perhaps it is too much to expect a woman not to be vain when she
is pretty, but all are not. Collette's skin was like lilies and roses.
When the dragoons were let loose on us they burnt her father's
furniture, and beat him within an inch of his life. They asked Collette
if she would go to mass: she said, 'I will not.' They pulled her hair,
beat her, pinched her, but she only said the more, 'I will not.' Then a
dragoon said, 'This girl is too pert, her conceit must be lowered a
little.' And he took a comb off her toilette, and drew it down her face
two or three times, quite hard, till it was scratched and scored all
over. Conceive how the poor thing was cut up! She burst into tears, and
said, 'Take me to a convent; I don't care where I go now, so that I am
not seen. I shall never be worth looking at again.'"

"But what an unworthy motive for an unworthy act!" cried I.

"But only think how she was goaded to it!" said he. "Women think so much
of their looks. I am told the dragoons have tried that trick with many
ladies of quality."

"If they deserved the name of men they would be ashamed of it."

"Well, I think so too; but see how they treat the men! Have you seen
a chain of galley-slaves on their way to Marseilles? Certainly no
treatment can be too bad for the infamous, but that nobles and gentlemen
should be fettered along with felons, forgers, murderers, and
such-like--ah, 'tis too bad!"[1]...

[Footnote 1: See "Autobiography of a French Protestant." Religious