Chapter 273 A few notes on the origin of Gavroche's poem.The influence of an academician on this poem

After the conflict between the people and the army in front of the arsenal, the crowd that followed the hearse and pressed (so to speak) the head of the funeral procession had to turn back and push back, so that several days in a row The procession on the boulevard was suddenly chaotic, like the frightening scene at low tide.The flow of people was turbulent, the ranks disintegrated, everyone ran, broke up, and hid, some shouted loudly and rushed forward, and some turned pale and fled separately.The crowds on the boulevard are like the water of a river, rushing to the left and right banks in an instant, as if opening a gate, and pouring into the two hundred streets and alleys at the same time.At this time, a boy in rags came down the rue Menilmontan, holding in his hand a sprig of laburnum just picked in bloom on the slopes of Belleville, and walked up to a shop selling shabby women. , caught sight of the long-barreled pistol on the counter, threw the flower branch in his hand into the street, and cried:

"I said, ma'am, I'll borrow your stuff." He grabbed the pistol and fled. Two minutes later, a mass of frightened and running bourgeoisie flocking to Amelo Street and Bath Street met the boy, brandishing a pistol, singing: The boy was Gavroche the Younger.He was about to go into battle. Walking out onto the boulevard, he noticed that the pistol had no firing pin. Who made up this song with which he paced, and all the other tunes he sang out of his mouth?We can't answer.who knows?Maybe he made it up.Gavroche was already familiar with all kinds of popular folk songs, and he often added his own accent.He was elf and rascal, and he used to mix the sounds of nature with the tones of Paris.He combined songbird programs with workshop programs.He knew a few young men who were studying painting, and they were like-minded people.He is said to have been a printing apprentice for three months.One day he also did something for Baur Lormian, a member of the French Academy.Gavroche was a literate wild boy.

On that bitter and rainy night, Gavroche lodged the two little tricksters in the elephant, not realizing that he was receiving his own brother, who had done a good deed for God.He saved his two brothers in the night, and his father in the morning, and that was how he passed the night.He left the Ballet Street at dawn, hurried back to his elephant, gently and deftly took the two children out of the elephant's belly, and shared a meal with them. breakfast, and then parted with them, and handed them over to that good mother called the Street, who had raised himself more or less before.Parting from them, he made an appointment with them to meet at the same place in the evening, and made this parting speech to them: "I shall break my cane, or in other words, I shall desert, or, as it is said in the palace, , I’m going to run away now. My little darlings, if you can’t find your parents, come back here tonight. I’ll treat you to supper and stay overnight.” Those two children were probably taken in by some policeman. Detained, or kidnapped by some charlatan, or simply lost in this endless Parisian labyrinth, they never came back.The bottom of today's society is full of such disappearances.Gavroche never saw them again.Ten or twelve weeks after that night, he still scratched his head and said, "Where are my two children?"

At this time, holding the pistol in his hand, he walked to Cabbage Bridge Street.He noticed that there was only one shop left open in the street, and, thoughtfully, it was a pastry shop.It was really a good opportunity arranged by God, asking him to eat another apple dumpling before entering the vast universe.Gavroche stopped, felt his trouser pockets, searched the pockets of his vest, searched the pockets of his jacket, found nothing, not a single coin, and could only cry out: "Help!" It is indeed uncomfortable to be unable to eat the last piece of bread in life. Gavroche did not stop his advance because of this.

Two minutes later he was in the Rue Saint-Louis.When passing through Yuhuayuan Street, he felt that he needed to make up for the unobtainable apple dumplings, so with great joy, he tore up those theater posters one by one while the sky was still bright. A little further away, he saw a group of people who looked like rich men with red faces passing by him. He shrugged his shoulders, and casually spit out such philosophical bitterness: "These interest eaters are so fat! These guys have food and drink, and they are buried in the pile of wine and meat every day. You can ask them how their money is spent. They can't answer. They put It's not easy to swallow the money! It's all in their stomachs."