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?© de, 1799-1850

"Poor Relations"


"Do lie quiet; if you have, it won't prevent you from living as long
as Methuselah."
"Then, pray let me be quiet!" groaned Pons. "I have never known what
it is to be loved. I have had no child; I am alone in the world."
"Really, eh?" returned the portress. "You are so kind, and that is
what women like, you see--it draws them--and it looked to me
impossible that when you were in your prime--"
"Take her away," Pons whispered to Schmucke; "she sets my nerves on
edge."
"Then there's M. Schmucke, he has children. You old bachelors are not
all like that--"
"_I!_" cried Schmucke, springing to his feet, "vy!--"
"Come, then, you have none to come after you either, eh? You both
sprung up out of the earth like mushrooms--"
"Look here, komm mit me," said Schmucke. The good German manfully took
Mme. Cibot by the waist and carried her off into the next room, in
spite of her exclamations.
"At your age, you would not take advantage of a defenceless woman!"
cried La Cibot, struggling in his arms.
"Don't make a noise!"
"You too, the better one of the two!" returned La Cibot. "Ah! it is my
fault for talking about love to two old men who have never had nothing
to do with women. I have roused your passions," cried she, as
Schmucke's eyes glittered with wrath. "Help! help! police!"
"You are a stoopid!" said the German. "Look here, vat tid de toctor
say?"
"You are a ruffian to treat me so," wept La Cibot, now released,--"me
that would go through fire and water for you both! Ah! well, well,
they say that that is the way with men--and true it is! There is my
poor Cibot, _he_ would not be rough with me like this.


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