Stories for Ninon by Emile Zola (Illustrated)

Emile Zola, Delphi Classics

• Publisher: Delphi Classics (Parts Edition)
• Year: 2017
• ISBN:
  9781786562678
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Classics
• Index: Literature

This eBook features the unabridged text of 'Stories for Ninon' from the bestselling edition of 'The Complete Works of Emile Zola'.

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THE ADVENTURES OF BIG SIDOINE AND LITTLE MÉDÉRIC

I

THE HEROES

At a distance of a hundred feet, Big Sidoine had somewhat the appearance of a poplar, except that he was perhaps taller in stature and of a thicker build. At fifty feet one could clearly distinguish his satisfied smile, his large blue eyes starting out of his head, and his enormous fists, which he swung about in a timid and embarrassed manner. At twenty-five feet one summed him up without hesitation to be a good-hearted fellow, as strong as an army, but a perfect simpleton. Little Médéric, on his side, bore, as regards stature, a strong resemblance to a lettuce, I mean a young lettuce; but on noticing his fine, restless lips, his clear, broad forehead, on seeing his graceful bow, the ease of his gait, one easily attributed to him more intellect than to the learned brains of forty tall men. His round eyes, similar to those of a titmouse, darted looks as penetrating as steel gimlets, which certainly would have caused him to be considered ill-natured, if long fair lashes had not veiled the malice and boldness of those orbs, with a soft shadow. He wore his hair in curly locks; he laughed so engagingly that one could not help loving him.

Although it was difficult for Big Sidoine and Little Médéric to converse freely, they were nevertheless the best friends in the world. Both were sixteen, were born the same day, at the same hour, and had known each other from that time; for their mothers, who happened to be neighbours, used to place them together in a wicker cradle at the time when Big Sidoine was still satisfied with a bedstead three feet long. No doubt it is a strange thing that two children fed on the same pap should grow up so utterly unlike. This circumstance puzzled the learned folk of the neighbourhood all the more, as Médéric, contrary to accepted custom, had certainly dwindled down some inches in height. The five or six learned pamphlets written on this phenomenon by specialists, proved that Providence alone could account for the secret of this strange growth, as it also knows that of the Seven-League Boots, of the Sleeping Beauty, and a thousand other truths so beautiful and simple that one requires the innocence of childhood to understand them.

The same learned people, whose business it was to account for what cannot be, had set themselves another difficult problem. “How is it,” they inquired of one another, without ever giving an answer, “that this great simpleton Sidoine loves that little scamp Médéric so tenderly? and how can this little scamp bestow so many caresses on that great simpleton?” It is a deep question, calculated to disturb inquiring minds, that of the brotherhood between the blade of grass and the oak.

I should not pay so much heed to these men of learning, if one of them, the one least considered in the parish, had not said one day, shaking his head, “Well, well! good people, don’t you see the meaning of it all? Nothing is simpler. The little fellows are changelings. When they were in the cradle, when their skin was tender and their skulls thin, Sidoine assumed Médéric’s body, and Médéric Sidoine’s mind; so that one grew in body and legs whilst the other grew in intelligence. Hence their affection. They are one person in two beings; which is, unless I am mistaken, the definition of perfect friendship.”

When the good man had thus spoken, his colleagues roared with laughter and treated him as a madman. A philosopher condescended to point out to him that souls do not transmigrate in this manner; a naturalist exclaimed simultaneously in his other ear, that there was no precedent in zoology, of a brother yielding his shoulders to his brother, as he would a piece of cake; the good man continued, tossing his head: “I have given my explanation, give yours; we shall then see which of the two is the most reasonable.”

I have pondered for a long time on these words and found them full of wisdom. Whilst awaiting a better explanation, if, indeed, I require one to continue this story, I will keep to that given by the old scholar. I know it will interfere with the clear and geometrical views of many; but, as I am determined to welcome with gratitude the fresh solutions of the mystery which my readers will no doubt find, I believe I am acting fairly, in so delicate a matter.

What, thank goodness, was not a subject for controversy — for all right-thinking minds agree often enough on some point — is that Sidoine and Médéric were all the better for their friendship. Each day they discovered such advantages in being what they were, that they would not have changed body or mind for anything in the world.

When Médéric attracted Sidoine’s attention to a magpie’s nest at the top of an oak tree, the latter declared himself to be the sharpest child in the neighbourhood; and when Sidoine stooped to take possession of the nest, Médéric honestly believed that he himself had a giant’s stature. It would have been bad for you, if you had treated Sidoine as a simpleton believing he could not answer you back; Médéric would have convinced you in three sentences that you were on the verge of idiocy. And Médéric, too, if you had chaffed him on his tiny fists; only just equal to crushing a fly, it would have been quite another tune: I cannot tell how you would have escaped Sidoine’s long arms. Médéric and Sidoine were both strong and intelligent, as they were never apart, and it had never suggested itself to them that they lacked anything, except on those days when chance separated them.

To be frank, I must admit that they led somewhat the life of vagrants, having lost their parents when they were quite young; moreover, they felt themselves capable of eating at all times and in all places. Apart from this, they were not boys to settle down quietly in a hut. I leave you to imagine what kind of a shed would have been required for Sidoine; whilst as for Médéric, he would have been content with a cupboard. So that, in order to suit the convenience of both, they lived in the fields, sleeping on the grass in summer, setting the cold at naught in winter beneath a blanket of leaves and dry moss.

They thus constituted a singular household. It was Médéric’s part to think; he did that wonderfully, saw at the first glance the fields where the best and most savoury potatoes were to be found, and knew, to within a minute, the time they must be in the cinders to be done to a turn. Sidoine worked; he dug up the potatoes, which was no small task I can tell you, for, though his companion only ate two or three, he required two or three cartloads for his share; then he lit the fire, covered the potatoes with embers, and burnt his fingers in withdrawing them.

These petty domestic cares required neither great cunning nor strength of wrist. But it was good to see the two companions in the more serious circumstances of life, such as when they had to protect themselves from wolves during winter nights, or to clothe themselves decently without loosening their purse-strings, which offered considerable difficulty.

Sidoine was very busy keeping the wolves at a distance; right and left he distributed kicks which would have over thrown a mountain. On most of these occasions he overthrew nothing at all, for he was very clumsy. He generally emerged from the struggle with his garments in tatters. Then Médéric’s part began. It was out of the question to repair the clothes. The sharp boy preferred providing new ones, as either way he had to draw on his imagination. Having a mind fertile in expedients, he provided a fresh texture for each torn smock. It was not so much quality as quantity that troubled him; imagine a tailor who would have to clothe the towers of Notre-Dame.

On one occasion, in pressing need, he petitioned the millers, asking for the old sails of all the windmills in the neighbourhood. As he uttered his request with a charm without its equal, he soon obtained sufficient linen to make a magnificent bag, which did the greatest honour to Sidoine.

Another time, he had a still more ingenious idea. As a revolution had just broken out in the country, and the people, to convince themselves of their power, destroyed the armorial bearings and tore to shreds the standards used in the last reign, he obtained without difficulty all the old banners which had done duty at public festivals. You can imagine whether the smock made of these silken shreds was splendid to behold.

But these were court clothes, and Médéric sought for a material which would show greater resistance to the claws and fangs of wild animals. On the night of one of the battles, when the wolves had finally eaten up the standards, he was seized with a sudden idea whilst contemplating the dead left on the field. He told Sidoine to skin them nicely, and dried the skins in the sun. A week later his big brother walked about carrying his head high, gloriously clad in the spoils of their enemies. Sidoine, who like all big men was a little bit vain, was much impressed by these fine new clothes; so each week he made a frightful carnage among the wolves, clubbing them more cautiously, for fear of spoiling the fur.

From that moment Médéric had no further anxiety as regards the wardrobe. I have not told you how he clothed himself, but you have, no doubt, understood that he succeeded in doing so without so many contrivances. The tiniest scrap of ribbon was sufficient for him. He was very graceful, well proportioned, though small; the ladies quarrelled over him in order to bedeck him with velvet and lace; and so, one always met him attired in the latest fashion.

I cannot say that the farmers were over delighted at having the two friends as neighbours; but they held Sidoine’s fists in such regard, and had so much affection for Médéric’s sweet smiles, that they allowed them to live in their fields as though they belonged to them. The lads, besides, did not encroach on the hospitality; they only appropriated a few vegetables when they were tired of game and fish. Had they been of a more desperate character, they would have ruined the country in three days; a walk through the cornfields would have sufficed. Therefore, the harm they did not do was borne in mind. Gratitude, even, was felt for the wolves they destroyed by hundreds, and for the number of inquisitive strangers they attracted from the neighbouring towns.

I — hesitate entering on the subject of my story without having given you full details concerning the affairs of my heroes. Can you picture them to yourself? Sidoine, as tall as a tower, clad in grey fur; Médéric, adorned with ribbons and spangles, sparkling in the grass at his feet like a golden bettle. Can you see them taking their walks abroad by the river-side, supping and sleeping in the glades, living in freedom beneath God’s sky? Do you realise how simple Sidoine was, with his huge fists, and what ingenious expedients, what sharp repartee found their abode in Médéric’s little head? Do you grasp the idea that their union was their strength, that, born far from one another, they would have been poor and very incomplete creatures, compelled to live in accordance with the habits and customs of all the world? Have you thoroughly understood that if I had bad intentions, I might hide some philosophical problem beneath all this? Are you, finally, prepared to thank me for my giant and dwarf whom I have brought up with special care, in order that they may constitute the most marvellous couple in the world? Yes? Well, without further delay I will commence the astounding account of their adventures?

II

THEY START ON THEIR TRAVELS

An April morning — the air was still keen, and slight mists were rising from the damp earth — Sidoine and Médéric were warming themselves at a large brushwood fire. They had just breakfasted, and were waiting till the embers had died out to take a short walk. Sidoine, seated on a large stone, watched the fire thoughtfully; but it was well to mistrust that look, for it was a recognised fact that the good fellow never thought of anything. He was smiling blissfully, his fists resting on his knees. Médéric, who was lying down opposite, affectionately contemplated his companion’s fists; for although he had seen them grow, he experienced boundless joy and astonishment in gazing at them.

“Oh the fine pair of fists!” thought he; “what powerful fists they are! How massive and well set are the fingers! I should not care to receive the slightest fillip from them for all the wealth in the world: it would suffice to fell an ox. This dear Sidoine does not seem to have the least idea that he carries our fortune at his fingers’ end.”

Sidoine, who enjoyed the fire, was stretching out his hands in an indolent manner. He wagged his head, and was absorbed in utter forgetfulness of the things of this earth. Médéric drew nearer to the fire, which was dying out.

“Is it not a pity,” he resumed in an undertone, “to use such fine weapons against a few mangy wolves. They deserve to be turned to better account, such as crushing whole battalions and overthrowing the walls of citadels. We, who were surely intended for a high destiny, are now in our sixteenth year, and have achieved nothing. I am tired of the life we lead in the depths of this lonely valley. I think it high time we conquered the kingdom that God has in store for us somewhere; for the more I gaze on Sidoine’s fists the more I am convinced they are the fists of a king.”

Sidoine was far from suspecting the great destiny dreamed of by Médéric. He had just dozed off, having slept but little the previous night. One felt, on hearing his regular breathing, that he did not even trouble himself to dream.

“Hallo! my beauty,” shouted Médéric to him.

He raised his head, cast an anxious look on his companion, opened his eyes wide, and pricked up his ears.

“Listen,” resumed Médéric, “and try to understand, if possible. I am thinking of our future, I consider that we neglect it greatly. Life, my beauty, does not consist in eating fine golden potatoes and in clothing one’s self in magnificent furs. It is necessary, also, to make a name in the world, to make a position for one’s self. We do not belong to the common run of people, who can rest satisfied with the condition and name of vagrants. Certainly I don’t despise the calling, which is that of lizards, animals that are certainly happier than many men; but we can resume it at any time. It is therefore a question of leaving this country, which is too small for us, at the earliest opportunity and of seeking a wider sphere where we can show ourselves off to advantage. Surely, we shall soon make our fortunes, if you render me the assistance in your power. I mean by distributing blows as I advise and counsel. Do you understand me?”

“I think so,” answered Sidoine modestly. “We are going to travel and to fight throughout the journey. It will be delightful.”

“Only,” resumed Médéric, “we shall require an object in view to prevent our indulging in the luxury of dallying on the way. You see, my beauty, we are too fond of sunshine. We should be capable of spending our youth in warming ourselves beneath the hedgerows, if we did not know, from hearsay at all events, of the country we wish to reach. I have therefore sought for a country worthy of possessing us. I admit, that, at first, I found none. Fortunately, I recalled a conversation I had, some days ago, with a bullfinch of my acquaintance. He told me he had come in a direct line from an extensive kingdom, called the Kingdom of the Happy, celebrated by the fertility of its soil and the good character of its inhabitants; it is governed at present by a young queen, the charming Primrose, who, in her kindness of heart, is not satisfied with allowing her subjects to live in peace, but is also anxious that the animals of her realm should share the blessedness of her reign. One of these nights, I will tell you the strange stories that my friend the bullfinch has related to me on this subject. Perhaps — for you seem to be uncommonly inquisitive today — you wish to know how I propose behaving in the Kingdom of the Happy. To begin with, judging things from a distance, it seems to me advisable to cause the charming Primrose to fall in love with me, and to marry her, in order that we may live in clover ever after, regardless of the other kingdoms of the world. We will create a position for you in accordance with your tastes, allowing you to keep in training. My beauty, I vow that sooner or lat...