"When we have the upper hand, you'll see whether I sha'n't settle my own little affairs myself.

God cares a lot about us indeed! What a foul family ours is! Even if I were starving to death, not one of those scoundrels would throw me a dry crust." Whenever Macquart touched upon this subject, he proved inexhaustible.

He bared all his bleeding wounds of envy and covetousness.

He grew mad with rage when he came to think that he was the only unlucky one in the family, and was forced to eat potatoes, while the others had meat to their heart's content.

He would pass all his relations in review, even his grand-nephews, and find some grievance and reason for threatening every one of them.
"Yes, yes," he repeated bitterly, "they'd leave me to die like a dog." Gervaise, without raising her head or ceasing to ply her needle, would sometimes say timidly: "Still, father, cousin Pascal was very kind to us, last year, when you were ill." "He attended you without charging a sou," continued Fine, coming to her daughter's aid, "and he often slipped a five-franc piece into my hand to make you some broth." "He! he'd have killed me if I hadn't had a strong constitution!" Macquart retorted.