Nicole had never heard of Erasmus, or of Aristotle; we have met people in the city who have no knowledge concerning those philosophers, and are none the worse off for that. As a general rule, we should not carry the study of antiquity too far; what we know about the past often prevents us from being well informed concerning what is going on to-day.
Nicole soon perceived that when she married Jacquinot she did not feather her nest very well. The handsome peasant was lazy, careless; in short, a do-nothing in every sense of the term. Three days after her marriage, Nicole sighed when she was congratulated upon her choice.
But Frimousset had that rustic cunning which knows how to disguise its inclinations, its faults, beneath an air of good-humor and frankness which deceives many people. His wife was lively, active, hard-working; it required very little time for him to learn her character. Far from thwarting her in anything, Frimousset seemed to be the most docile, the most compliant husband in the village; but he carried his servility to a point which finally irritated Nicole, and that was the very thing he counted upon.
For instance, in the morning, while his wife was attending to the housework, Jacquinot, after eating a hearty breakfast, would say to her:
“What do you want me to do now, Nicole?”
And Nicole would reply quickly:
“It seems to me that there’s work enough to do! There’s our field to plow, and the stones and stumps to be taken out of the piece by the road, and the garden to be planted. Ain’t that work enough?”
“Yes, yes!” Frimousset would reply, shaking his head; “I know well enough that it ain’t work that’s lacking; but where shall I begin—in the field, or the pasture, or the garden? I am waiting for you to tell me; you know very well that I want to do just what you want me to.”
“My word! what nonsense! Don’t you know enough to know what there’s most hurry about?”
“Why no! Don’t I tell you that I want you to give me orders as to what I shall do; I want to do my best to please you, my little wife.”