Germinal | Page 7

glass door
was open; one could perceive the lobby of a landing, a sort of recess in
which the father and the mother occupied a fourth bed, against which
they had been obliged to install the cradle of the latest coiner, Estelle,
aged scarcely three months. However, Catherine made a desperate
effort. She stretched herself, she fidgeted her two hands in the red hair
which covered her forehead and neck. Slender for her fifteen years, all
that showed of her limbs outside the narrow sheath of her chemise were
her bluish feet, as it were tattooed with coal, and her slight arms, the
milky whiteness of which contrasted with the sallow tint of her face,
already spoilt by constant washing with black soap. A final yawn
opened her rather large mouth with splendid teeth against the chlorotic
pallor of her gums; while her grey eyes were crying in her fight with
sleep, with a look of painful distress and weariness which seemed to

spread over the whole of her naked body. But a growl came from the
landing, and Maheu's thick voice stammered; "Devil take it! It's time. Is
it you lighting up, Catherine?" "Yes, father; it has just struck
downstairs." "Quick then, lazy. If you had danced less on Sunday you
would have woke us earlier. A fine lazy life!" And he went on
grumbling, but sleep returned to him also. His reproaches became
confused, and were extinguished in fresh snoring. The young girl, in
her chemise, with her naked feet on the floor, moved about in the room.
As she passed by the bed of Henri and Lénore, she replaced the
coverlet which had slipped down. They did not wake, lost in the strong
sleep of childhood. Alzire, with open eyes, had turned to take the warm
place of her big sister without speaking. "I say, now, Zacharie--and you,
Jeanlin; I say, now!" repeated Catherine, standing before her two
brothers, who were still wallowing with their noses in the bolster. She
had to seize the elder by the shoulder and shake him; then, while he
was muttering abuse, it came into her head to uncover them by
snatching away the sheet. That seemed funny to her, and she began to
laugh when she saw the two boys struggling with naked legs. "Stupid,
leave me alone," growled Zacharie in ill-temper, sitting up. "I don't like
tricks. Good Lord! Say it's time to get up?" He was lean and ill-made,
with a long face and a chin which showed signs of a sprouting beard,
yellow hair, and the anaemic pallor which belonged to his whole family.
His shirt had rolled up to his belly, and he lowered it, not from modesty
but because he was not warm. "It has struck downstairs," repeated
Catherine; ""come! up! father's angry." Jeanlin, who had rolled himself
up, closed his eyes, saying: "Go and hang yourself; I'm going to sleep."
She laughed again, the laugh of a good-natured girl. He was so small,
his limbs so thin, with enormous joints, enlarged by scrofula, that she
took him up in her arms. But he kicked about, his apish face, pale and
wrinkled, with its green eyes and great ears, grew pale with the rage of
weakness. He said nothing, he bit her right breast. "Beastly fellow!" she
murmured, keeping back a cry and putting him on the floor. Alzire was
silent, with the sheet tucked under her chin, but she had not gone to
sleep again. With her intelligent invalid's eyes she followed her sister
and her two brothers, who were now dressing. Another quarrel broke
out around the pan, the boys hustled the young girl because she was so
long washing herself. Shirts flew about: and, while still half-asleep,

they eased themselves without shame, with the tranquil satisfaction of a
litter of puppies that have grown up together. Catherine was ready first.
She put on her miner s breeches, then her canvas jacket, and fastened
the blue cap on her knotted hair; in these clean Monday clothes she had
the appearance of a little man; nothing remained to indicate her sex
except the slight roll of her hips. "When the old man comes back," said
Zacharie, mischievously, "he'll like to find the bed unmade. You know
I shall tell him it's you." The old man was the grandfather, Bonneinort,
who, as he worked during the night, slept by day, so that the bed was
never cold; there was always someone snoring there. Without replying,
Catherine set herself to arrange the bed-clothes and tuck them in. But
during the last moments sounds had been heard behind the wall in the
next house. These brick buildings, economically put up by the
Company, were so thin that the least breath could be heard through
them. The inmates lived there, elbow