"What horse do I shoe for this?"
"La, la!" said the charcoalman, sticking a thumb in the blacksmith's
side; "you only give him the happy hand--like that!"
Duclosse was more serious. "It is the will of God that you become a
marshal or a duke," he said wheezingly to the blacksmith. "You can't say
no; it is the will of God, and you must bear it like a man."
The child saw further; perhaps the artistic strain in her gave her keener
reasoning.
"Father," she said, "Monsieur Valmond wants you for a soldier."
"Wants me?" he roared in astonishment. "Who's to shoe the horses a week
days, and throw the weight o' Sundays after mass? Who's to handle a
stick for the Cure when there's fighting among the river-men?
"But there, la, la! many a time my wife, my good Florienne, said to me,
'Jose--Jose Lajeunesse, with a chest like yours, you ought to be a
corporal at least.'"
Parpon beckoned to Lagroin, and nodded. "Corporal! corporal!" cried
Lagroin; "in a week you shall be a lieutenant and a month shall make you
a captain, and maybe better than that!"
"Better than that--bagosh!" cried the charcoalman in surprise, proudly
using the innocuous English oath. "Better than that--sutler, maybe?"
said the mealman, smacking his lips.
"Better than that," replied Lagroin, swelling with importance. "Ay, ay,
my dears, great things are for you. I command the army, and I have free
hand from my master.
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