Nor anything to drink but water—cold water from the well!
Nor sufficient clothes to wear! For she is always to be seen in the same worn-out pink dress and frayed hair-riband—things only fit for a servant-girl to wear, and he is never to be seen in anything but an artist's blouse with turned-down collar—a garment which makes him look like a tramp, and sets all the dogs barking at him.
Yes, so much so that respectable people are afraid of him.
Dogs never like poor people. Yesterday I saw no fewer than three dogs flying at him at once; yet he only cried, as he beat them off with his stick: "Do not you dare to tear my trousers! They are the only ones I have left!"
All the time he was laughing, though the dogs were showing their teeth at him, and growling most furiously.
And only to-day I saw a smart lady and gentleman so nervous at his appearance that they crossed to the other side of the road to avoid passing him. "I think he is going to beg of us," the gentleman said, and the lady exclaimed shrilly that probably he would assault them as well. So they crossed over—eyeing him carefully as they did so, and keeping a tight hold upon their pockets. But he only tossed his head and laughed.
Yes, he is always in good spirits.
Both of them are like that—always merry.
Yes, and singing too; or, rather, he sings, and she dances to his singing, in that poor pink dress of hers and shabby riband!
It is quite a pleasure to look at them, they are so youthful and handsome.