Chapter 316 How the Sixteenth Eldest Brother Became a Father

At this moment, in the Luxembourg Gardens—the theatrical gaze should be omnipresent—two children, one about seven years old and the other five, held hands.The rain drenched them, and they walked on the sunny side of the path, the older leading the younger, their ragged clothes and pale faces, like two wild sparrows.The youngest said, "I'm very hungry." The eldest was more or less like a protector, holding the little brother with his left hand and holding a small stick in his right. It was just the two of them in the garden, which was deserted and the iron gate had been closed by police order during the uprising.The troops camped inside have left to meet the battle.

How are the children here?It may have been an escape from an asylum with its door ajar; perhaps from nearby, from the Don Fay Gate, or from the observatory's lookout, or from a neighboring crossroads, where there is a condescending pediment ornamented, It says "a cloth-wrapped baby was found today", escaped from the wooden booth there; or it may be that they escaped the watchman's eyes when the door was closed the night before, and spent their time in the reading booth. overnight?The fact is that they are wandering, yet they seem to be free.To wander as if you were free is to be homeless.These two poor children really have no home to return to.

The reader will recall that these were the two children who worried Gavroche, the Thenardier children, who had been lent to Manon as M. Fallen leaves are blown by the wind and rolled around. Their clothes, neat and tidy at the Manon's house, and accountable to M. Gillenormand at that time, are now in rags. Since then, these children have been included in the "abandoned children" statistics table, identified by the police, taken in, lost, and found on the streets of Paris. It takes a chaotic time like today for the poor kid to come to the park.If the gatekeeper finds them, they must drive out these little brats.Because poor children cannot enter the park.In fact, people should think that as children, they have the right to appreciate flowers.

Fortunately, the iron gate was closed so that they could stay inside.They broke the rules and slipped into the park, and they stayed there.Although the iron gate is closed, the inspectors are not allowed to rest. The inspectors are still considered to be continuing to inspect, but the implementation is lax and not strict; they are also affected by the unrest of the public, and they care more about the outside of the garden than the inside of the garden. They no longer inspect the garden , so did not see the two children who committed misdemeanors. It rained last night, and it was raining this morning.But June showers are nothing.An hour after the rainstorm, it is difficult for people to realize that this beautiful sunny day has shed tears.In summer, the ground is quickly dried, like a child's cheek.

During this summer solstice, the daytime sun can be described as fiery, and it controls everything.It clings to the ground as if sucking.The sun seems to be thirsty, the shower is equal to a glass of water, and the shower is drunk immediately.In the early morning, the streams are everywhere, but at noon, the dust has been raised. There is nothing more pleasant than rain-wet and sun-dried grass, the fresh breath of summer.Gardens and grasslands, where there is rain and dew on the roots, and sunshine on the flowers, simultaneously become incense burners emitting all kinds of scents.Everything laughs, sings, and gives out its own fragrance, which makes one feel a sweet intoxication.Spring is a temporary paradise, and the sun makes people tough and powerful.

Some people are no longer demanding, as long as there is a blue sky, they say: "This is enough!" They wonder, and are strangely absent-minded about men, who do not understand why they should do this for the hungry, for the thirsty, for the poor in winter, when they can amuse themselves in the woods, To worry about children whose backs are bowed with lymph, about cots and garrets and dungeons and girls trembling in rags; these quiet and unkind souls delight in their own mercy.Oddly enough, they are content with infinite space.But the great need of man, the finite thing that includes universal love, they do not understand.They do not think about this noble toil of progress, which is recognized by the finite.And this infinity is produced by the combination of man and heaven in the aspect of infinity and finiteness, and they also can't realize it.As long as they can face Wuji, they will smile.They are never joyful, but often ecstatic.Willing to indulge in it, this is their life.In their view, the history of mankind is just fragments, completeness does not lie here, and the real everything lies in the outside world, so why bother about trivial matters like this?Humans are in pain, that's possible, but watch this red star rise!The mother has no milk, the newborn is dying, I don't know, but look at the wonderful round flower shape formed by the cut section of the fir tree under the microscope!You compare the most beautiful delicate lace!These thinkers forget about love.The zodiac so preoccupied them that they couldn't see the baby crying.God made them blind to the soul.This is a certain type of thinker, great and small at the same time.So it was with Horace, so it was with Goethe, so it may be with La Fontaine; to the spectator who is indifferent to suffering, to the egoism of the infinite, who cannot see Nero when the weather is clear, and the sun can hide the stake for them, Looking at the execution of the guillotine, they are still looking for the effect of the light. They can't hear the shouts, sobs, breathless gasps, or the alarm bell. For them, as long as there is May, everything is perfect, as long as there is golden yellow and purple clouds, they are content, and resolve to have fun till the stars are gone and the birds are no more.

They are the darkness in the splendor.They did not guess that they were wretches.No doubt they are.Whoever has no tears of sympathy sees nothing.We should praise and pity them, as we pity and praise him who are both night and day, and have no eyes under their brows, but a star in their foreheads. The ruthlessness of the thinker, according to some people, is a profound philosophy.Even so, there is a lacking side in this sophistication.A man can be immortal and yet be crippled, as Vulkan is a proof of.People can be superior to others, but they can also be inferior to others.There are endless incomplete phenomena in nature, who knows if the sun is blind?

So what to do?Who do you trust?Who dares to say that the sun is false?Some geniuses, some outstanding people, those star officials will also make mistakes?That thing in the sky above, at the top, at the highest peak, on the zenith, which sends infinite light to the earth, but which sees very little, cannot see clearly, or is completely invisible?Isn't this frustrating?wrong.What is beyond the sun?There is God. At about eleven o'clock in the morning on June 6, 1832, the Luxembourg Gardens were deserted and the scenery was charming.The quincunx-shaped trees and flower beds emit fragrance and dazzling colors in the sun.All the branches seemed to be ecstatically embracing each other in the hot midday sun.In the Egyptian fig bushes warblers were chirping, sparrows were singing triumphant songs, and woodpeckers climbed up chestnut trees and pecked at the holes in the bark with their beaks.The flower-bed accepts the rightful throne of the lily; the noblest fragrance comes from the color of whiteness.The fragrance of pink flowers pervades the space, and the old rooks of Marie de Medici are talking about love in the big woods.The sun's gold and purple on the tulips made them blaze, and it was simply a colorful flame.Bees circling busily about all the tulip-beds, like sparks on sparks, all are showy and festive, with the coming shower; the lily-of-the-valley and honeysuckle are benefiting without fear from this re-moisturizing rain !Swallows flying low show a lovely threat, where everything is immersed in happiness, how beautiful life is, and the whole nature is in sincerity, rescue, support, fatherly love, tenderness and dawn.Thoughts from heaven are as tender as we kiss a child's little hand.

The stone statues under the trees are white and naked, and through the sunlight, the shade of the trees puts a clothes on them; the light on these goddesses is different, and the surroundings are full of light.Around the large pool, the ground was dry as if scorched.It is often windy and dusty everywhere.A few yellow leaves in late autumn are happily chasing each other, like wild children playing. There is an indescribable comfort in the light everywhere.Life, sap, heat, and fragrance are overflowing; out of the universe we feel that great source; in this loving breeze, in this echo and reflection, In this golden fluid pouring out infinitely, we feel inexhaustible; behind this magnificent fiery curtain, we have a glimpse of the God who rules the billions of stars.

Thanks to the fine sand, there is no trace of mud here, and thanks to the rain and dew, there is not a speck of dust here.The bouquets were cleansed; all the velvets, satins, enamel, and gold that rose out of the earth in flower-like shapes were flawless.This glam is flawless.The garden is immersed in the tranquility of a joyful nature.A heavenly stillness harmonizes with a thousand kinds of music, the cooing of a bird's nest, the hum of a bee swarm and the rustling of the wind.All the sounds of this season are harmoniously integrated into a perfect concerto; the phenology in spring is orderly, the lilac withers, and the jasmine welcomes; some flowers bloom late, but some insects come early; the vanguard of red butterflies in June and May White Butterfly's guard team is like brothers.Indus put on new clothes.The gentle wind makes the tall and gorgeous chestnut bushes rise and fall one after another, with a majestic momentum.A veteran from a nearby barracks looked out from the iron fence and said, "This is a spring in full military uniform."

All nature is eating, and all things are already seated.It's time.Large blue curtains were hung in the sky, and a wide green tablecloth was spread on the ground, and the sun was shining brightly.God feeds the world.Each creature has its own feed or pastry.The pigeon found hemp seeds, the chaffinch found millet, the garuda found chickweed, the robin found maggots, the bee found flowers, the fly found ciliates, and the kingfisher found flies.There is a more or less mutual devouring phenomenon between them, a mysterious mixture of good and evil, but none of them is empty. The two abandoned children came to the big pool, a little dazed by the sun, and they managed to hide, the instinctive cringe of the poor and weak before luxury, though not before people; so they hid behind the swan shed. Here and there, with the wind down, intermittent and indistinct shouts, noises, and a loud clatter that was the firing of the machine guns, and a muffled clatter that was the firing of the guns could be heard here and there.Smoke was rising from the roof beyond the vegetable market.A calling bell echoed in the distance. The two children seemed unable to hear the noises.From time to time the younger one whispered, "I'm hungry." Almost at the same time as the two children, another couple also approached the large pool; an old man about fifty years old was holding a six-year-old baby by the hand. These were probably father and son.The six-year-old holds a large piece of cake in his hand. During this period, a number of houses along the river, in the Rue de la Madame and Rue Downfield, were equipped with a key to the Luxembourg Gardens, which tenants could use to gain access to the gardens when the iron fences were closed.Later this concession was revoked.The father and son probably came out of one such house. When the two poor children saw the "gentleman" approaching, they hid themselves more discreetly. This is a bourgeois.Perhaps it was the man whom Marius had met in the days of his love.He had heard him teaching his son by this great pool, "Nothing to excess."His manner is kind and haughty, and he has a parted mouth that is always smiling.This mechanical smile comes from the large gums, which cannot be covered, revealing the teeth instead of the heart.The child took the leftover cake, as if he had eaten enough.In times of turmoil, the child wears the uniform of the National Guard; the father is still dressed as a bourgeois, and this is for the sake of discretion. The father and son stopped by a large pool in which two swans played, whom the bourgeois seemed to have a special admiration for, and whose walk he resembled very much. At this time the swans are swimming, which is their specialty, and the swimming posture is very graceful. If the poor children had listened, and had come of age, they would have heard the words of a virtuous man.The father said to his son: "The sage lives contented with nothing. Look at me, my son, I love no luxury. I've never been seen wearing gold or gems, I give the false splendor to those minds Flawed people." At this moment, the dull calls, bells and noisy voices from the vegetable market intensified at the same time. "What is this?" asked the child. Father replied: "This is the Earth God Festival to celebrate the harvest." Suddenly he saw the two ragged children standing motionless behind the swan's green hut. "This is just the beginning," he said. After a pause, he added: "Anarchy has entered the park." At this time, the son took a bite of the cake, spit it out again, and suddenly burst into tears. "Why are you crying?" asked the father. "I'm not hungry," said the child. Father's smile became more obvious: “Snacks don’t have to be eaten until you’re hungry.” "I hate this pastry, it's not fresh." "You don't want it anymore?" "No more." His father pointed to the swan. "Throw it to the webbed birds!" The child hesitates.He doesn't want pastry, but there's no reason to give it away. Father continued: "Be kind and have compassion for animals." So he took the pastry from his son and threw it in the sink.The cake fell into the water very close to the shore. The swans were busy eating their catch in the center of the pool at a distance.They saw neither the bourgeois nor the cake. Feeling that the pastry was in danger of being lost, and lamenting the unnecessary loss, the bourgeois managed to appear an air of anxiety, which attracted the attention of the swans. They saw something floating on the surface of the water, so they turned the steering wheel like a sailboat and swam slowly towards the cake, without losing the dignity that such a rare white bird should have. "The swan understands these gestures," said the bourgeois, triumphant at his wit. At this time, the commotion in the city suddenly intensified and became more miserable.A few gusts of wind said more than anything else.Now one can hear the clear sound of war drums, shouts, squad gunfire, and the somber alarm bells and gunfire echoing each other.Suddenly a dark cloud covered the sun. The swan hasn't swum to the cake yet. "Go back," said the father, "they are attacking the Tuileries." Seizing his son's hand, he added: "From the Tuileries to Luxembourg, there is only the distance from the throne to the knighthood, which is not far. The guns will be like a rainstorm." He looks at the dark clouds. "Maybe the rain is about to fall, and the sky has also joined in. The side support of the dynasty is over. Go home!" "I want to see the swans eat the cake," said the child. Father replied: "It's so reckless." So he took the petty bourgeois away. The child was reluctant to part with the swans, and kept looking back at the big pond until the trees arranged in a plum blossom shape blocked his sight at the corner. At the same time as the swan, the two little wanderers also approached the cake at this time.The pastry floated on the water, the little one watched, the other watched the bourgeois go away. Father and son walked up the winding path that led to the broad, thickly bushed steps beyond Ladies Street. When they were no longer in sight, the older child immediately lay down on the round edge of the pool, grasping the edge with his left hand, and leaning over the water, almost falling, he stretched out a stick with the other hand and approached the cake.The swans, seeing their opponents, sped up their movements, and their proboscises moved swiftly, which had the effect in favor of the little fisherman, that the water ran backwards in front of the swans, and a rippling ripple pushed the pastry towards the boy's stick.The swan just swam there, and the stick happened to touch the cake.With one quick movement the child pokes the cake, scares away the swans, grabs the cake and stands up.The cake was soggy, but they were hungry and thirsty.The older child divided the cake into two, the older and the smaller, took the smaller one himself, gave the older half to the younger brother, and said to him: "Take it to fill your stomach."