They did not live high, but they subsisted. Paul had entire charge of the household affairs and he drove hard bargains with those whom he favored with his patronage. The little square, two cent cakes of sausage were eagerly scrutinized while he weighed the one cent loaves of bread in his hand. Every two cent herring was examined as closely as a gourmand would a porter-house steak or some rich game. When the provisions were secured, Paul returned to their apartment where he generally found the Count with his head between his hands, seated near the window. "Now for the banquet," he would exclaim as he lit up a sou's worth of wood with which to fry the herring. The little squares of sausage would be placed on the soap dish. At times he prevailed on the Count to go down and get the cracked pitcher full of water, which made up their morning drinking cordial, while Paul was frying the herring. After it was cooked, it was scrupulously divided into two equal parts and they seated themselves. After meals they generally went out to ascertain news from the government in regard to sending them home. Some days they treated themselves to a regular table d'hote dinner at a little eating house kept by a widow on the quay. The cost of this dinner was thirteen sous and they could not often indulge in such a luxury. As time advanced things were getting more and more desperate. The Count was so gloomy and despondent that Paul feared he would end his life as he had threatened to do several times unless something turned up. They were now indebted to the landlady for two weeks' room rent. She had a very sharp tongue and used to fire a broadside at them every time she would meet them. In passing her door while ascending or descending, they generally removed their shoes as they did not wish to disturb her ladyship for whom they entertained great respect. Things continued to grow worse and worse until at last Paul spent the few last sous they had on two small loaves and a herring. They did not have even wood to fry the herring and were compelled to use the stump of a candle, which remained, to cook it with. Before retiring that night, Paul suggested to the Count the necessity of their trying to get some work, to which the Count replied that he would prefer death any time to the idea of going to work. Long before daylight Paul slipped quietly out of bed, dressed himself in his old uniform and proceeded in the direction of the docks. Near one of the bridges he saw a large group of men standing. He joined them and learned that they were all waiting for work, and that they expected the contractor along in a few minutes. The boss soon made his appearance and commenced reading from a slip of paper: "I want ten men at such a dock, five men at another place, eight men at another place and twenty-five men at the dry docks." The crowd separated itself into gangs, Paul joining the one that was called last. As the men passed the contractor, each one was handed a slip. When Paul's turn came to get his slip, the contractor looked at him curiously and said:
"Why, you are an American volunteer, what do you want here?"
"I want work," answered Paul, "and pretty badly too."
"Well," said the contractor: "I am sorry that I have no better job to give you today, but by to-morrow I will have something better."
Paul followed the gang to the dry docks where a large steamer had been hauled up. On exhibiting his piece of paper to the foreman, he received a three cornered scraper, a piece of sharp steel with a handle about eighteen inches long. He was told off to a certain plank suspended by ropes down the side of the vessel in company with two old dock rats who eyed him rather sullenly as though he was an intruder. Paul quickly slipped down the rope and seated himself on the plank, while the two professors climbed leisurely down and took a seat on either end, he occupying the middle. The side of the ship was thickly studded with barnacles and other shell fish. She had just returned from a long voyage to the tropics and was very foul. The air was chilly and raw down on the dark, damp stone dock. Paul was anxious to warm himself, so made a furious onslaught on the barnacles and soon had them flying in every direction. He stopped for breath and found his companions, instead of following his example, were gazing at him with looks of disgust and astonishment. One of them exclaimed:
"Regard him, look at him!"
While the other, with feigned pity, tapped his forehead with the tips of his fingers, as much as to say, "He is crazy, my brother." One of them then placed his hand on Paul's arm and asked him how long he had been engaged in scraping ship's bottoms.
"This is my first day," answered Paul, thinking he might have done something wrong.
"I thought so," responded his questioner. "A few more mad men like you would ruin our work in the dock. Why, at the way you are going the ship's bottom would be clean before night fall. This is the way to do it," and he put his scraper against the side of the vessel and slowly and laboriously removed a single barnacle. Then he laid the scraper on the plank beside him and drew out his pipe which he leisurely filled with tobacco and lighted. After taking a few whiffs he asked Paul where he was from and what caused him to seek work there. Paul fully explained his position and the cause that compelled him to work. After this, his two companions seemed to thaw out and entertained him with words of advice, instructing him in many methods of killing time when the foreman was not around. At noon all hands were called up out of the docks and each received a card to the value of two francs, which the foreman told Paul he could have cashed at the canteen by purchasing a dish of soup or a small piece of bread. Paul indulged in a five cent dinner and deeply regretted that the Count was not there to share it with him. He received one franc and seventy five centimes which he carefully stowed away. After dinner the plank was shifted and they resumed work at the barnacles. Before the six o'clock bell rang to cease work, Paul and his two preceptors were quite friendly. They told him that if he intended to pursue the business he should remember one thing:
"Never do what you did this morning, that is slip down the ropes first, particularly when there are three men to work on a plank, for," they gravely explained, "the two coming down last would occupy seats close to the ropes that net only act as a back brace when resting yourself, but would also be a means of saving your life in case the plank broke; when you could grab hold on the rope and the man in the middle would drop to the stones below and be killed. Of course the two clinging to the rope could be hoisted to the deck or be carefully lowered to the bottom."