Short Stories, vol 11 | Page 7

to the chances of being
burned."
She got red in the face, and felt inclined to fly into a rage.
"But, monsieur, last December one of our chimneys caught fire, and
caused at least five hundred francs' damage; M. Oreille made no claim
on the company, and so it is only just that it should pay for my
umbrella now."
The manager, guessing that she was telling a lie, said, with a smile:
"You must acknowledge, madame, that it is very surprising that M.
Oreille should have asked no compensation for damages amounting to
five hundred francs, and should now claim five or six francs for
mending an umbrella."
She was not the least put out, and replied:
"I beg your pardon, monsieur, the five hundred francs affected M.
Oreille's pocket, whereas this damage, amounting to eighteen francs,
concerns Mme. Oreille's pocket only, which is a totally different
matter."
As he saw that he had no chance of getting rid of her, and that he would
only be wasting his time, he said resignedly:
"Will you kindly tell me how the damage was done?"
She felt that she had won the victory, and said:
"This is how it happened, monsieur: In our hall there is a bronze stick
and umbrella stand, and the other day, when I came in, I put my
umbrella into it. I must tell you that just above there is a shelf for the
candlesticks and matches. I put out my hand, took three or four matches,
and struck one, but it missed fire, so I struck another, which ignited, but
went out immediately, and a third did the same."
The manager interrupted her to make a joke.

"I suppose they were government matches, then?"
She did not understand him, and went on:
"Very likely. At any rate, the fourth caught fire, and I lit my candle, and
went into my room to go to bed; but in a quarter of an hour I fancied
that I smelt something burning, and I have always been terribly afraid
of fire. If ever we have an accident it will not be my fault, I assure you.
I am terribly nervous since our chimney was on fire, as I told you; so I
got up, and hunted about everywhere, sniffing like a dog after game,
and at last I noticed that my umbrella was burning. Most likely a match
had fallen between the folds and burned it. You can see how it has
damaged it."
The manager had taken his cue, and asked her: "What do you estimate
the damage at?"
She did not know what to say, as she was not certain what value to put
on it, but at last she replied:
"Perhaps you had better get it done yourself. I will leave it to you."
He, however, naturally refused.
"No, madame, I cannot do that. Tell me the amount of your claim, that
is all I want to know."
"Well, I think that--Look here, monsieur, I do not want to make any
money out of you, so I will tell you what we will do. I will take my
umbrella to the maker, who will re-cover it in good, durable silk, and I
will bring the bill to you. Will that suit you, monsieur?"
"Perfectly, madame; we will settle it so. Here is a note for the cashier,
who will repay you whatever it costs you."
He gave Mme. Oreille a slip of paper, who took it, got up and went out,
thanking him, for she was in a hurry to escape lest he should change his
mind.
She went briskly through the streets, looking out for a really good
umbrella maker, and when she found a shop which appeared to be a
first- class one, she went in, and said, confidently:
"I want this umbrella re-covered in silk, good silk. Use the very best
and strongest you have; I don't mind what it costs."

BELHOMME'S BEAST
The coach for Havre was ready to leave Criquetot, and all the
passengers were waiting for their names to be called out, in the

courtyard of the Commercial Hotel kept by Monsieur Malandain, Jr.
It was a yellow wagon, mounted on wheels which had once been
yellow, but were now almost gray through the accumulation of mud.
The front wheels were very small, the back ones, high and fragile,
carried the large body of the vehicle, which was swollen like the belly
of an animal. Three white horses, with enormous heads and great round
knees, were the first things one noticed. They were harnessed ready to
draw this coach, which had something of the appearance of a monster
in its massive structure. The horses seemed already asleep in front of
the strange vehicle.
The driver, Cesaire Horlaville, a little man