"Battle! battle! and make an end of it!"
"We are tired of all this. Why should we be so miserable, and they so well off?"
"They have said that quarrymen are brutes, only fit to torn wheels in a shaft, like dogs to turn spits," cried an emissary of Baron Tripeaud's.
"And that the Devourers would make themselves caps with wolf-skin," added another.
"Neither they nor their wives ever go to mass. They are pagans and dogs!" cried an emissary of the preaching abbe.
"The men might keep their Sunday as they pleased; but their wives not to go to mass!—it is abominable.
"And, therefore, the curate has said that their factory, because of its abominations, might bring down the cholera to the country."
"True? he said that in his sermon."
"Our wives heard it."
"Yes, yes; down with the Devourers, who want to bring the cholera on the country!"