things that make my head ache and turn my
stomach. I come back to my little stories.
I had much difficulty in leaving the sisters of Our Lady of Thirty-Six Sorrows. In spite of Cléclé’s companionship, I was growing old in the box, and beginning to be hungry for liberty. When they understood that I had made up my mind to go, then the worthy sisters offered me places and places. There were places only forme. But I am not always a fool, and I have a keen eye for rascalities. All these places I refused. In all of them I found something that did not suit me. You should have seen the heads of these holy women.
It was laughable. They had calculated on finding me a place in the house of some old bigot, where they could get back out of my wages the cost of my board with usury, and I enjoyed playing them a trick in my turn.
One day I notified Sister Boniface that it was my intention to go that very evening. She had the cheek to answer me, raising her arms to heaven:
"But, my dear child, it is impossible."
"How so? Why is it impossible?"
"Why, my dear child, you cannot leave the house like that. You owe us more than seventy francs. You will have to pay us first these seventy francs."
"And with what?" I replied. "I have not a sou; you can search me."
