The work she was doing was wanted speedily, and she wished to finish it. It was Saturday, and there is so much to be done on Sunday, where there is a workman's clothes to be mended and a family of young children to be tended.
But while plying the needle she reflected.
"MARIANNE SHUT THE WINDOW."
No, it was a fact, her Jacques had not always reasoned so justly. It was not that he was naturally fickle; he was an honest, hard-working man, a good workman at his trade, open-hearted, devoted to his wife, whom he had married for love, and adoring his children. But he was feeble-minded, ignorant, fond of listening to glib talkers, phrasemongers, and unable to refuse the offer of a glass; and, one glass drunk, a second followed, and at the third he lost his head, and gave himself up to a drinking bout.
Ah! Marianne had not laughed every day at that time, and that had not been all. In those days Jacques sometimes only brought home from five-and-twenty to thirty francs a week: that was not a sum on which they could live; lodgings cost dear, and Marianne, who was still young, liked to dress as well as other people.
Then poverty came, the man was out of heart, and, during several months, did no work. That was anything but a gay time.
But all that was over. Marianne, as well as seeing to the home and attending to the children, made her fifty sous a-day. It was no great thing, but with Jacques's wages, they were not badly off; for the blacksmith now earned from sixty to seventy francs a week—nine and ten francs a day and overtime, for which he was paid double. It was not much to talk of, but the workmen had had nothing to complain about for some length of time. Certainly, as Jacques said, there was still a good deal to be done; there was still wanting insurance against want of employment, accidents, and the infirmities of age. But everything could not be done at once, and Jacques did not grumble; he hoped it would all come right in time. He was a philosopher.
They were living then in a very small town, where the population was not large. But the proprietors of the factory where he worked were good men, who understood that men must be enabled to live by their labour, and that the price of everything was high. They even talked of one day giving the factory hands a share in the profits of the enterprise.