"Lovers! Oh, yes! I was too ugly for that—and too well taken care of."
"Your mother looked after you, then?"
"No, my girl; but I was harnessed."
"Harnessed!" cried Rose-Pompon, in amazement, interrupting the dealer.
"Yes,—harnessed to a water-cart, along with my brother. So, you see, when we had drawn like a pair of horses for eight or ten hours a day, I had no heart to think of nonsense."
"Poor Mother Arsene, what a hard life," said Rose-Pompon with interest.
"In the winter, when it froze, it was hard enough. I and my brother were obliged to be rough-shod, for fear of slipping."
"What a trade for a woman! It breaks one's heart. And they forbid people to harness dogs!" added Rose-Pompon, sententiously.[21]
"Why, 'tis true," resumed Mother Arsene. "Animals are sometimes better off than people. But what would you have? One must live, you know. As you make your bed, you must lie. It was hard enough, and I got a disease of the lungs by it—which was not my fault. The strap, with which I was harnessed, pressed so hard against my chest, that I could scarcely breathe: so I left the trade, and took to a shop, which is just to tell you, that if I had had a pretty face and opportunity, I might have done like so many other young people, who begin with laughter and finish—"
"With a laugh t'other side of the mouth—you would say; it is true, Mother Arsene. But, you see, every one has not the courage to go into harness, in order to remain virtuous. A body says to herself, you must have some amusement while you are young and pretty—you will not always be seventeen years old—and then—and then—the world will end, or you will get married."