THE PIECE OF STRING
(LA FICELLE)
BY GUY DE MAUPASSANT
Translation by The Editor
Introduction.
Establishes the general setting, and station in life of the characters.
On all the roads around Goderville the peasants and their wives were coming towards the town, for it was market-day. The men swung along at an easy gait, their whole bodies swaying forward with every movement of their long, twisted legs—legs misshapen by hard work: by holding down the plough, which Minute observation. throws up the left shoulder while it deforms the figure; by mowing grain, the effort of which spreads the knees too wide apart to permit them to stand quite steady; by all the tedious and laborious tasks of the fields. Their blue blouses, starched and glossy as though varnished, and decorated at collar and cuffs with neat designs in white stitching, puffed out about their bony forms just like balloons all ready to rise, from which protruded a head, two arms, and two legs.
Characterization.
2. Some of the men were leading a cow or a calf at the end of a rope. Following close behind, the wives switched the animals over the back with branches still covered with leaves, in order to quicken their pace. The women carried on their arms great baskets from which the heads of chickens and ducks protruded,Local-color by character description. and they walked with a shorter, quicker step than the men—each withered figure erect and wrapped in a scanty little shawl pinned across her flat bosom, each head done up in a white cloth, bound close about the hair and surmounted by a cap.
3. Now a wagonette passed, drawn by a nag at a fitful trot, grotesquely shaking up the two men seated side by side, and the woman in the back of the vehicle, who clutched its sides to lessen the rough jolting.
Local-color.
4. In the Goderville market-place there was a great crowd—a medley of man and beast. The horns of the cattle, the high, long-napped hats of the prosperous peasants, and the head-dresses of the women, rose above the level of the throng. And the voices—sharp, shrill, squawking—rose in a wild, incessant clamor, which was dominated now and then by a great guffaw of laughter emitted from the robust chest of some sturdy bumpkin, or by the long-drawn-out lowing of a cow tethered to the wall of a house.
5. Everything there smelled of the stable—the milk, the manure, the hay, the sweat, gave forth that acrid, offensive odor of man and animal so peculiar to dwellers of the fields.
Chief Character.
6. Master Hauchecorne, of Bréauté, had just arrived at Goderville, and was moving toward the square, when he observed a little piece of string on the ground. Economical, like a true Norman, The Normans are said to be typically “ambitious, positive, bold, tricky, economical.” Master Hauchecorne thought that everything which could be used was worth saving; so he stooped down painfully, for he suffered from rheumatism, picked up from the dirt the insignificant scrap of twine, and was just about to roll it Foundation Plot Incident. up with care when he noticed Master Malandin, the harness-maker, standing on his doorstep looking at him. Chief Complication.Once the two men had had a difference over the matter of a halter, and ever since they had remained angry with each other, cherishing their spite. Master Hauchecorne was seized with a sort of shame at having his enemy thus see him searching in the mud for a mere scrap of string. He therefore hastily Resultant Complication. hid away his find in his blouse, and then in his breeches-pocket. At the same time he pretended to be still searching in the dirt for something which he had not been able to find. Finally he moved on toward the market-place, his head thrust forward, his body bent double by his pains.
Local-color.
7. In a moment he was lost in the slowly shifting, noisy throng, agitated by its own constant chafferings. The peasants felt of the cows, turned away, came back again, much puzzled—always fearful of being over-reached in the bargain, never reaching a decision, watching the eye of the vendor, See note on [¶6]. seeking ever to unmask the ruse of the man and the defect in his animal.
8. The women, having set their huge baskets at their feet, took out their poultry, which they laid on the ground with legs tied together, terror-stricken eyes, and scarlet combs.
9. They listened to offers, maintaining their price with a keen air but impassive face, or else suddenly deciding to take the counter offer, crying out to the slowly retreating customer:
10. “It’s settled, Master Anthime, I’ll give them to you!”
11. At length, little by little, the square became empty, and when the Angelus sounded noon, those who lived too far away to go home repaired to the inns.
Setting for main crisis.
12. At Jourdain’s, the large hall was crowded with diners, while the great courtyard was full of vehicles of every sort—carts, gigs, wagonettes, tilburies, traps, nameless carriages, yellow with mud, shapeless, patched, shafts pointing to heaven like two arms, or with noses in the ground and backs in the air.
13. Right opposite the diners at table, the immense fireplace, all brightly aflame, cast a lively warmth on the backs of those ranged along the right. Three spits were turning, laden with chickens, pigeons, and legs of mutton; and a delectable odor of roasting meat, and of juices streaming over the browned skin, rose from the hearth, kindled good humor and made everyone’s mouth water.
Note how the author gathers the people to witness the crisis.
14. All the aristocracy of the plough were eating there, at Maît’ Jourdain’s,Maît’—colloquial abbreviation for Maître, equal here to “Mine Host.” inn-keeper and horse-trader—a sly fellow who had made money.
15. The dishes went round, and, like the jugs of yellow cider, were emptied. Everyone told of his affairs: his sales and his purchases. They exchanged news of the crops—the weather was good for vegetables, but a trifle wet for wheat.
Approach of crisis.
16. Suddenly the roll of a drum sounded in the courtyard before the house. Instantly everyone was on his feet,Typical of their class. save a few indifferent ones, and ran to the door or to the windows, with mouth still full and napkin in hand.
17. After the public crier had ended his tattoo, he shouted out in a jerky voice, making his pauses at the wrong time:
Preparation for crisis.
18. “Be it known to the people of Goderville, and in general to all—persons present at the market, that there was lost this morning, upon the Beuzeville road between—nine and ten o’clock, a black leather pocketbook, containing five hundred francs and some business papers. You are requested to return it—to the mayor’s office, without delay, or to Master Fortuné Houlbrèque of Manneville. There will be twenty francs reward.”
19. Then the man went away. Once again was heard afar the muffled roll of the drum and the faint voice of the crier.
20. Then they began to talk over the incident, estimating the chances Master Houlbrèque had of recovering or of not recovering his pocketbook. Meanwhile the meal went on.
21. They were finishing coffee when the corporal of gendarmes appeared in the doorway.
22. He asked:
Closer approach of crisis.
23. “Master Hauchecorne of Bréauté—is he here?”
24. Master Hauchecorne, who was seated at the other end of the table, replied:
25. “That’s me.”
26. And the corporal replied:
27. “Master Hauchecorne, will you have the goodness to go with me to the mayor’s office. Monsieur le maire would like to speak with you.”
Note how throughout the author emphasizes physical characteristics as indicating character.
Minute observation.
28. The peasant—surprised, disturbed—drained his glass at a gulp, got up, and, more doubled up than in the morning, because the first steps after a rest were always particularly difficult, he started off, repeating:
29. “That’s me, that’s me,” and he followed the corporal.
30. The mayor was awaiting him, seated in an armchair. He was the notary of the place, a large man, grave, and pompous in speech.
Full Crisis.
31. “Master Hauchecorne,” said he, “you were seen to pick up this morning, on the Beuzeville road, the pocketbook lost by Master Houlbrèque, of Manneville.”
32. The countryman, speechless, stared at the mayor, already terrified by this suspicion which rested upon him without his understanding why.
33. “Me, me, I picked up that pocketbook?”
34. “Yes, exactly you.”
35. “Word of honor, I ain’t even so much as seen it.”
36. “You were seen.”
37. “They saw me, me? Who’s it 'as seen me?”
Note how the complication is involved by personal prejudice.
38. “Monsieur Malandin, the harness-maker.”
39. Then the old man remembered, and understood. Reddening with rage, he cried:
40. “Ah! he saw me, that cad! He saw me pick up this here string—look, m’sieu le maire.”
41. And, fumbling at the bottom of his pocket, he pulled out the little bit of cord.
42. But the mayor, incredulous, shook his head.
43. “You will not make me believe, Master Hauchecorne, that Monsieur Malandin, who is a man worthy of belief, has mistaken that bit of string for a pocketbook.”
44. The peasant, furious, raised his hand and spat to one side, thus to attest his honor, repeating:
45. “All the same it’s the truth of the good God, the holy truth, m’sieu le maire. There! Upon my soul and my salvation, I say it again.”
46. The mayor replied:
Circumstantial evidence. The miser’s character helps condemn him unjustly.
47. “After having picked the thing up, you even hunted a long time in the mud to see if some piece of money had not fallen out.”
48. The good man choked with indignation and fear.
49. “How can anyone tell—how can anyone tell—lies like that to misrepresent an honest man! How can anyone tell—”
50. However he might protest, no one believed him.
51. He was confronted with Monsieur Malandin, who repeated and sustained his affirmation. They railed at each other for a whole hour. At his own request, Master Hauchecorne was searched. They found nothing upon him.
Suspense.
52. At last, the mayor, greatly perplexed, sent him away, with the warning that he would advise the public prosecutor, and ask for orders.
53. The news had spread. When he came out of the mayor’s office the old man was surrounded and questioned with a curiosity either serious or bantering, but into which not the least indignation entered. And he began to recount the history of the piece of string. No one believed him. They laughed.
Tone of story.
54. He went on, halted by everyone, stopping his acquaintances, renewing endlessly his recital and his protestations, showing his pockets turned inside out to prove that he had nothing.
Note Maupassant’s use of the short paragraph.
55. They said to him:
56. “G’long, you old rascal!”
57. And he grew angry, working himself into exasperation, into a fever, desperate at not being believed, not knowing what to do, and always repeating his story.
58. Night came on. He must go home. He started out with three neighbors to whom he showed the place where he had picked up the piece of string; and all along the road he kept talking of his adventure.
59. That evening, he made a round of the village of Bréauté, in order to tell everyone of the matter. He encountered none but unbelievers.
60. He was ill of it all night.
61. The next day, about one o’clock in the afternoon, Marius Paumelle, a farm-hand of Master Breton’s, the market-gardener at Ymauville, returned the pocketbook and its contents to Master Houlbrèque, of Manneville.
Apparent resolution of the complication.
62. This man asserted, in substance, that he had found the article on the road; but, not being able to read, he had carried it home and given it to his employer.
63. The news spread to the suburbs. Master Hauchecorne was informed of it. He set himself at once to journeying about and commenced to narrate his story as completed by the denouement. He was triumphant.
64. “Wha’ made me feel bad,” he said, “wasn’t the thing itself, you understand, but it was the lies. There’s nothing hurts you like being blamed for a lie.”
Tone of story.
65. All day long he talked of his adventure, he recounted it on the roadways to the people who passed, at the tavern to the folks who drank, at the dismissal of church on the following Sunday. Foundation for Climax. He even button-holed strangers to tell it to them.
Resultant Complication.
Now, he was tranquil, and yet something else bothered him without his being able to tell precisely what. People did not seem to be convinced. He felt as if they gossiped behind his back.
66. On Tuesday of the following week, he went to the Goderville market, solely impelled by the desire to relate his story. Malandin, standing in his doorway, began to laugh when he saw him pass. Why?
67. He accosted a farmer of Criquetot who would not let him finish, but giving him a dig in the pit of the stomach, cried out in his face, “G’long, you great rogue!” Then he turned on his heel.
Peasant simplicity.
68. Master Hauchecorne stood speechless, growing more and more disturbed. Why had he called him “great rogue”?
69. When seated at table at Jourdain’s tavern, he again began to explain the affair.
70. A Montivilliers horse-dealer called out to him:
71. “Go on, go on, you old trickster, I know you, and your piece of string!”
72. Hauchecorne stammered, “But—they—found it, the pocketbook!”
73. But the other retorted:
Denouement as to the resultant complication.
Final Complication.
74. “Be quiet, daddy! There’s one who finds it, and one who takes it back. No one sees it, no one recognizes it, no one is the wiser for it.”
75. The peasant sat dumbfounded. He understood at last. They accused him of having returned the pocketbook by a confederate, an accomplice.
76. He tried to protest. Everyone at the table began to laugh.
77. He could not finish his dinner, and left amidst their mockeries.
78. He returned home, ashamed and indignant, strangled by his anger, by his confusion, and all the more thunderstruck because, with his Norman cunning, he was quite capable of having done the thing of which they had accused him, and even of boasting of it as a good trick.Key. It appeared to him confusedly as impossible to prove his innocence, for his trickery was well known. And he felt struck to the heart with the injustice of the suspicion.
Tone.
79. Again he began to tell of his adventure, every day lengthening his recital, advancing each time new proofs, more energetic protestations, and more solemn oaths which he conjured up in his hours of solitude—his mind was occupied solely by the story of the piece of string.Key. They believed him all the less as his defense became more complicated and his reasoning more fine-spun.
Complication summarized.
80. “Ha, they are liar’s reasons!” they said behind his back.
81. He realized it; he fretted over it; he exhausted himself in futile efforts.
82. He visibly wasted away.
83. The wags now made him recite “The Piece of String” for their amusement, as one persuades a soldier who has been through a campaign, to tell the story of his battles. His mind, attacked at its foundations, began to totter.
84. Towards the end of December he took to his bed.
85. During the first days of January he died, and, in the delirium of his mortal agony he protested his innocence, repeating:
Climax.
86. “—a li’l’ piece of string ... a li’l’ piece of string ... see, here it is, m’sieu le maire.”