With such a plan in my head I had to bestow careful attention on my Jerusalem artichokes. Every day I looked at the spot where I had planted them, it seemed to me that they would never grow. I was kneeling on both knees on the ground, supported on my hands, with my nose almost touching the earth where the artichokes were sown, when I heard Barberin calling me impatiently. I hurried back to the house. Imagine my surprise when I saw, standing before the fireplace, Vitalis and his dogs.
I knew at once what Barberin wanted of me. Vitalis had come to fetch me and it was so that Mother Barberin should not stop me from going that Barberin had sent her to the village. Knowing full well that I could expect nothing from Barberin, I ran up to Vitalis.
“Oh, don’t take me away. Please, sir, don’t take me away.” I began to sob.
“Now, little chap,” he said, kindly enough, “you won’t be unhappy with me. I don’t whip children, and you’ll have the dogs for company. Why should you be sorry to go with me?”
“Mother Barberin!…”
“Anyhow, you’re not going to stay here,” said Barberin roughly, taking me by the ear. “Go with this gentleman or go to the workhouse. Choose!”
“No, no. Mamma! Mamma!”
“So, you’re going to make me mad, eh!” cried Barberin. “I’ll beat you good and hard and chase you out of the house.”
“The child is sorry to leave his mamma, don’t beat him for that. He’s got feelings, that’s a good sign.”
“If you pity him he’ll cry all the more.”