old debauchees who frequented hotels in search
of pretty page boys, of thefts and blackmail. Mario told me
of a hotel in which he had been, where a chambermaid stole
a priceless diamond ring from an American lady. For days
the staff were searched as they left work, and two detectives
searched the hotel from top to bottom, but the ring was nev-
er found. The chambermaid had a lover in the bakery, and
he had baked the ring into a roll, where it lay unsuspected
until the search was over.
Once Valenti, at a slack time, told me a story about him-
self.‘You know, MON P’TIT, this hotel life is all very well,
but it’s the devil when you’re out of work. I expect you know
what it is to go without eating, eh? FORCEMENT, oth-
erwise you wouldn’t be scrubbing dishes. Well, I’m not a
poor devil of a PLONGEUR; I’m a waiter, and I went five
days without eating, once. Five days without even a crust of
bread—Jesus Christ!
‘I tell you, those five days were the devil. The only good
thing was, I had my rent paid in advance. I was living in a
dirty, cheap little hotel in the Rue Sainte Eloise up in the
Latin quarter. It was called the Hotel Suzanne May, after
some famous prostitute of the time of the Empire. I was
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starving, and there was nothing I could do; I couldn’t even
go to the cafes where the hotel proprietors come to engage
waiters, because I hadn’t the price of a drink. All I could
do was to lie in bed getting weaker and weaker, and watch-
ing the bugs running about the ceiling. I don’t want to go
through that again, I can tell you.
‘In the afternoon of the fifth day I went half mad; at least,
that’s how it seems to me now. There was an old faded print
of a woman’s head hanging on the wall of my room, and I
took to wondering who it could be; and after about an hour
I realized that it must be Sainte Eloise, who was the PA-
TRON saint of the quarter. I had never taken any notice of
the thing before, but now, as I lay staring at it, a most ex-
traordinary idea came into my head.
‘’ECOUTE, MON CHER,’ I said to myself, ‘you’ll be
starving to death if this goes on much longer. You’ve got
to do something. Why not try a prayer to Sainte Eloise? Go
down on your knees and ask her to send you some money.
After all, it can’t do any harm. Try it!’
‘Mad, eh? Still, a man will do anything when he’s hun-
gry. Besides, as I said, it couldn’t do any harm. I got out of
bed and began praying. I said:
‘’Dear Sainte Eloise, if you exist, please send me some
money. I don’t ask for much—just enough to buy some bread
and a bottle of wine and get my strength back. Three or four
francs would do. You don’t know how grateful I’ll be, Sainte
Eloise, if you help me this once. And be sure, if you send me
anything, the first thing I’ll do will be to go and bum a can-
dle for you, at your church down the street. Amen.’
Down and Out in Paris and London
‘I put in that about the candle, because I had heard that
saints like having candles burnt in their honour. I meant to
keep my promise, of course. But I am an atheist and I didn’t
really believe that anything would come of it.
‘Well, I got into bed again, and five minutes later there
came a bang at the door. It was a girl called Maria, a big fat
peasant girl who lived at our hotel. She was a very stupid
girl, but a good sort, and I didn’t much care for her to see
me in the state I was in.
‘She cried out at the sight of me. ‘NOM DE DIEU!’ she
said, ‘what’s the matter with you? What are you doing in
bed at this time of day? QUELLE MINE QUE TU AS! You
look more like a corpse than a man.’
‘Probably I did look a sight. I had been five days without
food, most of the time in bed, and it was three days since I
had had a wash or a shave. The room was a regular pigsty,
too.‘’What’s the matter?’ said Maria again.
‘’The matter!’ I
of pretty page boys, of thefts and blackmail. Mario told me
of a hotel in which he had been, where a chambermaid stole
a priceless diamond ring from an American lady. For days
the staff were searched as they left work, and two detectives
searched the hotel from top to bottom, but the ring was nev-
er found. The chambermaid had a lover in the bakery, and
he had baked the ring into a roll, where it lay unsuspected
until the search was over.
Once Valenti, at a slack time, told me a story about him-
self.‘You know, MON P’TIT, this hotel life is all very well,
but it’s the devil when you’re out of work. I expect you know
what it is to go without eating, eh? FORCEMENT, oth-
erwise you wouldn’t be scrubbing dishes. Well, I’m not a
poor devil of a PLONGEUR; I’m a waiter, and I went five
days without eating, once. Five days without even a crust of
bread—Jesus Christ!
‘I tell you, those five days were the devil. The only good
thing was, I had my rent paid in advance. I was living in a
dirty, cheap little hotel in the Rue Sainte Eloise up in the
Latin quarter. It was called the Hotel Suzanne May, after
some famous prostitute of the time of the Empire. I was
Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com
starving, and there was nothing I could do; I couldn’t even
go to the cafes where the hotel proprietors come to engage
waiters, because I hadn’t the price of a drink. All I could
do was to lie in bed getting weaker and weaker, and watch-
ing the bugs running about the ceiling. I don’t want to go
through that again, I can tell you.
‘In the afternoon of the fifth day I went half mad; at least,
that’s how it seems to me now. There was an old faded print
of a woman’s head hanging on the wall of my room, and I
took to wondering who it could be; and after about an hour
I realized that it must be Sainte Eloise, who was the PA-
TRON saint of the quarter. I had never taken any notice of
the thing before, but now, as I lay staring at it, a most ex-
traordinary idea came into my head.
‘’ECOUTE, MON CHER,’ I said to myself, ‘you’ll be
starving to death if this goes on much longer. You’ve got
to do something. Why not try a prayer to Sainte Eloise? Go
down on your knees and ask her to send you some money.
After all, it can’t do any harm. Try it!’
‘Mad, eh? Still, a man will do anything when he’s hun-
gry. Besides, as I said, it couldn’t do any harm. I got out of
bed and began praying. I said:
‘’Dear Sainte Eloise, if you exist, please send me some
money. I don’t ask for much—just enough to buy some bread
and a bottle of wine and get my strength back. Three or four
francs would do. You don’t know how grateful I’ll be, Sainte
Eloise, if you help me this once. And be sure, if you send me
anything, the first thing I’ll do will be to go and bum a can-
dle for you, at your church down the street. Amen.’
Down and Out in Paris and London
‘I put in that about the candle, because I had heard that
saints like having candles burnt in their honour. I meant to
keep my promise, of course. But I am an atheist and I didn’t
really believe that anything would come of it.
‘Well, I got into bed again, and five minutes later there
came a bang at the door. It was a girl called Maria, a big fat
peasant girl who lived at our hotel. She was a very stupid
girl, but a good sort, and I didn’t much care for her to see
me in the state I was in.
‘She cried out at the sight of me. ‘NOM DE DIEU!’ she
said, ‘what’s the matter with you? What are you doing in
bed at this time of day? QUELLE MINE QUE TU AS! You
look more like a corpse than a man.’
‘Probably I did look a sight. I had been five days without
food, most of the time in bed, and it was three days since I
had had a wash or a shave. The room was a regular pigsty,
too.‘’What’s the matter?’ said Maria again.
‘’The matter!’ I
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