| Book the First - Recalled to Life
5. V. The Wine-shop
 (continued)The wine-shop was a corner shop, better than most others in its
 appearance and degree, and the master of the wine-shop had stood
 outside it, in a yellow waistcoat and green breeches, looking on at
 the struggle for the lost wine.  "It's not my affair," said he,
 with a final shrug of the shoulders.  "The people from the market
 did it.  Let them bring another." There, his eyes happening to catch the tall joker writing up his
 joke, he called to him across the way: "Say, then, my Gaspard, what do you do there?" The fellow pointed to his joke with immense significance, as is often
 the way with his tribe.  It missed its mark, and completely failed,
 as is often the way with his tribe too. "What now?  Are you a subject for the mad hospital?" said the
 wine-shop keeper, crossing the road, and obliterating the jest with
 a handful of mud, picked up for the purpose, and smeared over it.
 "Why do you write in the public streets?  Is there--tell me thou--is
 there no other place to write such words in?" In his expostulation he dropped his cleaner hand (perhaps accidentally,
 perhaps not) upon the joker's heart.  The joker rapped it with his
 own, took a nimble spring upward, and came down in a fantastic
 dancing attitude, with one of his stained shoes jerked off his foot
 into his hand, and held out.  A joker of an extremely, not to say
 wolfishly practical character, he looked, under those circumstances. "Put it on, put it on," said the other.  "Call wine, wine; and finish
 there."  With that advice, he wiped his soiled hand upon the joker's
 dress, such as it was--quite deliberately, as having dirtied the hand
 on his account; and then recrossed the road and entered the wine-shop. |