Chapter 150 Two of his characteristics

The wild child of Paris is the cub of the sixteenth wife. It should not be exaggerated too much, the little angel by the clear stream sometimes had a shirt, but if he had one, and only one; sometimes he had a pair of shoes without soles; Because there he can find his mother; but he prefers to be in the street, because there he can find freedom.He has his own way of playing, his own naughty style, which is based on hatred of the bourgeoisie; root”; he has his own set of trades, finds carriages for people, lowers the pedals of the door, and collects street tolls when it rains heavily. and he had his own money, which were little pieces of worked copper of all sorts which he picked up in the street.That weird money is called "rags," and has its fixed rate of exchange, and it's pretty well established among the little rascals.

He also had his own zoology, which he studied carefully in various regions: good god bugs, skull-headed aphids, long-legged spiders, "goblins"-black shell insects that twist their two-pronged tails to scare people.He had one of his fabled monsters with scales under its belly but not a lizard and warts on its back but not a toad that lived in an old lime kiln or a dried-up cesspit, black and hairy and slimy. It was mushy, crawling, sometimes slow, sometimes fast, not screaming, but staring, and looking so terrible that no one had ever seen it. He called the monster "Deaf".Going to look for the deaf in the crevices of the stones is a kind of frightening and happy thing.Another kind of happy thing is to lift a rock suddenly and look at some soil turtles under it.Each district of Paris is famous for its interesting things to discover.There are earwigs in those grounds of the Order of Ursula, centipedes in the Pantheon, tadpoles in the Place de Mars.

As for diction, the boy knew no less than Talleyrand.He was just as mean, but more honest.He was endowed with such an indescribable and unpredictable sense of humor that a burst of maniac laughter could make a shopkeeper stupefied.His jokes range in style from high comedy to slapstick. There was a funeral in the street.There was a doctor in that funeral procession. "Yo," yelled a wild child, "when did doctors start reporting?" Another mingled with the crowd.A man with glasses, a rigid face and a miscellaneous pendant on his watch chain turned around angrily and said, "Rogue, you hugged my woman's waist."

"I, sir! Please search me."