INDIA
The body of street Arabs in Paris almost constitutes a caste. One might
almost say: Not every one who wishes to belong to it can do so.
This word _gamin_ was printed for the first time, and reached popular
speech through the literary tongue, in 1834. It is in a little work
entitled _Claude Gueux_ that this word made its appearance. The horror
was lively. The word passed into circulation.
The elements which constitute the consideration of the gamins for each
other are very various. We have known and associated with one who was
greatly respected and vastly admired because he had seen a man fall
from the top of the tower of Notre-Dame; another, because he had
succeeded in making his way into the rear courtyard where the statues
of the dome of the Invalides had been temporarily deposited, and had
“prigged” some lead from them; a third, because he had seen a diligence
tip over; still another, because he “knew” a soldier who came near
putting out the eye of a citizen.
This explains that famous exclamation of a Parisian gamin, a profound
epiphonema, which the vulgar herd laughs at without comprehending,—
_Dieu de Dieu! What ill-luck I do have! to think that I have never yet
seen anybody tumble from a fifth-story window! _ (_I have_ pronounced
_I’ave_ and _fifth_ pronounced _fift’_.)
Surely, this saying of a peasant is a fine one: “Father So-and-So, your
wife has died of her malady; why did you not send for the doctor?”
“What would you have, sir, we poor folks _die of ourselves_.” But if
the peasant’s whole passivity lies in this saying, the whole of the
free-thinking anarchy of the brat of the faubourgs is, assuredly,
contained in this other saying. A man condemned to death is listening
to his confessor in the tumbrel. The child of Paris exclaims: “He is
talking to his black cap! Oh, the sneak!”
A certain audacity on matters of religion sets off the gamin. To be
strong-minded is an important item.
To be present at executions constitutes a duty. He shows himself at the
guillotine, and he laughs. He calls it by all sorts of pet names: The
End of the Soup, The Growler, The Mother in the Blue (the sky), The
Last Mouthful, etc., etc. In order not to lose anything of the affair,
he scales the walls, he hoists himself to balconies, he ascends trees,
he suspends himself to gratings, he clings fast to chimneys. The gamin
is born a tiler as he is born a mariner. A roof inspires him with no
more fear than a mast. There is no festival which comes up to an
execution on the Place de Grève. Samson and the Abbé Montès are the
truly popular names. They hoot at the victim in order to encourage him.
They sometimes admire him. Lacenaire, when a gamin, on seeing the
hideous Dautin die bravely, uttered these words which contain a future:
“I was jealous of him.” In the brotherhood of gamins Voltaire is not
known, but Papavoine is. “Politicians” are confused with assassins in
the same legend. They have a tradition as to everybody’s last garment.
It is known that Tolleron had a fireman’s cap, Avril an otter cap,
Losvel a round hat, that old Delaporte was bald and bareheaded, that
Castaing was all ruddy and very handsome, that Bories had a romantic
small beard, that Jean Martin kept on his suspenders, that Lecouffé and
his mother quarrelled. “Don’t reproach each other for your basket,”
shouted a gamin to them. Another, in order to get a look at Debacker as
he passed, and being too small in the crowd, caught sight of the
lantern on the quay and climbed it. A gendarme stationed opposite
frowned. “Let me climb up, m’sieu le gendarme,” said the gamin. And, to
soften the heart of the authorities he added: “I will not fall.” “I
don’t care if you do,” retorted the gendarme.
In the brotherhood of gamins, a memorable accident counts for a great
deal. One reaches the height of consideration if one chances to cut
one’s self very deeply, “to the very bone.”
The fist is no mediocre element of respect. One of the things that the
gamin is fondest of saying is: “I am fine and strong, come now!” To be
left-handed renders you very enviable. A squint is highly esteemed.