The Accursed Bread

by Guy de Maupassant

　　

---

Daddy Taille had three daughters: Anna, the eldest, who was scarcely evermentioned in the family; Rose, the second girl, who was eighteen, andClara, the youngest, who was a girl of fifteen.Old Taille was a widower and a foreman in M. Lebrument's buttonmanufactory. He was a very upright man, very well thought of,abstemious; in fact, a sort of model workman. He lived at Havre, in theRue d'Angouleme.When Anna ran away from home the old man flew into a fearful rage.He threatened to kill the head clerk in a large draper's establishment inthat town, whom he suspected. After a time, when he was told by variouspeople that she was very steady and investing money in governmentsecurities, that she was no gadabout, but was a great friend of MonsieurDubois, who was a judge of the Tribunal of Commerce, the father wasappeased.He even showed some anxiety as to how she was getting on, and asked someof her old friends who had been to see her, and when told that she hadher own furniture, and that her mantelpiece was covered with vases andthe walls with pictures, that there were clocks and carpets everywhere,he gave a broad contented smile. He had been working for thirty years toget together a wretched five or six thousand francs. This girl wasevidently no fool.One fine morning the son of Touchard, the cooper, at the other end of thestreet, came and asked him for the hand of Rose, the second girl. Theold man's heart began to beat, for the Touchards were rich and in a goodposition. He was decidedly lucky with his girls.The marriage was agreed upon, and it was settled that it should be agrand affair, and the wedding dinner was to be held at Sainte-Adresse, atMother Jusa's restaurant. It would cost a lot certainly, but never mind,it did not matter just for once in a way.But one morning, just as the old man was going home to luncheon with histwo daughters, the door opened suddenly, and Anna appeared. She was welldressed and looked undeniably pretty and nice. She threw her arms roundher father's neck before he could say a word, then fell into her sisters'arms with many tears and then asked for a plate, so that she might sharethe family soup. Taille was moved to tears in his turn and said severaltimes:"That is right, dear, that is right."Then she told them about herself. She did not wish Rose's wedding totake place at Sainte-Adresse--certainly not. It should take place at herhouse and would cost her father nothing. She had settled everything andarranged everything, so it was "no good to say any more about it--there!""Very well, my dear! very well!" the old man said; "we will leave itso." But then he felt some doubt. Would the Touchards consent? ButRose, the bride-elect, was surprised and asked: "Why should they object,I should like to know? Just leave that to me; I will talk to Philipabout it."She mentioned it to her lover the very same day, and he declared it wouldsuit him exactly. Father and Mother Touchard were naturally delighted atthe idea of a good dinner which would cost them nothing and said:"You may be quite sure that everything will be in first-rate style."They asked to be allowed to bring a friend, Madame Florence, the cook onthe first floor, and Anna agreed to everything.The wedding was fixed for the last Tuesday of the month.After the civil formalities and the religious ceremony the wedding partywent to Anna's house. Among those whom the Tailles had brought was acousin of a certain age, a Monsieur Sauvetanin, a man given tophilosophical reflections, serious, and always very self-possessed, andMadame Lamondois, an old aunt.Monsieur Sautevanin had been told off to give Anna his arm, as they werelooked upon as the two most important persons in the company.As soon as they had arrived at the door of Anna's house she let go hercompanion's arm, and ran on ahead, saying: "I will show you the way," andran upstairs while the invited guests followed more slowly; and, whenthey got upstairs, she stood on one side to let them pass, and theyrolled their eyes and turned their heads in all directions to admire thismysterious and luxurious dwelling.The table was laid in the drawing-room, as the dining-room had beenthought too small. Extra knives, forks and spoons had been hired from aneighboring restaurant, and decanters stood full of wine under the raysof the sun which shone in through the window.The ladies went into the bedroom to take off their shawls and bonnets,and Father Touchard, who was standing at the door, made funny andsuggestive signs to the men, with many a wink and nod. Daddy Taille, whothought a great deal of himself, looked with fatherly pride at hischild's well-furnished rooms and went from one to the other, holding hishat in his hand, making a mental inventory of everything, and walkinglike a verger in a church.Anna went backward and forward, ran about giving orders and hurrying onthe wedding feast. Soon she appeared at the door of the dining-room andcried: "Come here, all of you, for a moment," and as the twelve guestsentered the room they saw twelve glasses of Madeira on a small table.Rose and her husband had their arms round each other's waists and werekissing each other in every corner. Monsieur Sauvetanin never took hiseyes off Anna.They sat down, and the wedding breakfast began, the relations sitting atone end of the table and the young people at the other. Madame Touchard,the mother, presided on the right and the bride on the left. Anna lookedafter everybody, saw that the glasses were kept filled and the plateswell supplied. The guests evidently felt a certain respectfulembarrassment at the sight of all the sumptuousness of the rooms and atthe lavish manner in which they were treated. They all ate heartily ofthe good things provided, but there were no jokes such as are prevalent.at weddings of that sort; it was all too grand, and it made them feeluncomfortable. Old Madame Touchard, who was fond of a bit of fun, triedto enliven matters a little, and at the beginning of the dessert sheexclaimed: "I say, Philip, do sing us something." The neighbors in theirstreet considered that he had the finest voice in all Havre.The bridegroom got up, smiled, and, turning to his sister-in-law, frompoliteness and gallantry, tried to think of something suitable for theoccasion, something serious and correct, to harmonize with theseriousness of the repast.Anna had a satisfied look on her face, and leaned back in her chair tolisten, and all assumed looks of attention, though prepared to smileshould smiles he called for.The singer announced "The Accursed Bread," and, extending his right arm,which made his coat ruck up into his neck, he began.It was decidedly long, three verses of eight lines each, with the lastline and the last but one repeated twice.All went well for the first two verses; they were the usual commonplacesabout bread gained by honest labor and by dishonesty. The aunt and thebride wept outright. The cook, who was present, at the end of the firstverse looked at a roll which she held in her hand, with streaming eyes,as if it applied to her, while all applauded vigorously. At the end ofthe second verse the two servants, who were standing with their backs tothe wall, joined loudly in the chorus, and the aunt and the bride weptoutright.Daddy Taille blew his nose with the noise of a trombone, and old Touchardbrandished a whole loaf half over the table, and the cook shed silenttears on the crust which she was still holding.Amid the general emotion Monsieur Sauvetanin said:"That is the right sort of song; very different from the nasty, riskythings one generally hears at weddings."Anna, who was visibly affected, kissed her hand to her sister and pointedto her husband with an affectionate nod, as if to congratulate her.Intoxicated by his success, the young man continued, and unfortunatelythe last verse contained words about the "bread of dishonor" gained byyoung girls who had been led astray. No one took up the refrain aboutthis bread, supposed to be eaten with tears, except old Touchard and thetwo servants. Anna had grown deadly pale and cast down her eyes, whilethe bridegroom looked from one to the other without understanding thereason for this sudden coldness, and the cook hastily dropped the crustas if it were poisoned.Monsieur Sauvetanin said solemnly, in order to save the situation: "Thatlast couplet is not at all necessary"; and Daddy Taille, who had got redup to his ears, looked round the table fiercely.Then Anna, her eyes swimming in tears, told the servants in the falteringvoice of a woman trying to stifle her sobs, to bring the champagne.All the guests were suddenly seized with exuberant joy, and all theirfaces became radiant again. And when old Touchard, who had seen, feltand understood nothing of what was going on, and pointing to the guestsso as to emphasize his words, sang the last words of the refrain:"Children, I warn you all to eat not of that bread," the whole company,when they saw the champagne bottles, with their necks covered with goldfoil, appear, burst out singing, as if electrified by the sight:"Children, I warn you all to eat not of that bread."

---

---