A Day in the Country and Other Stories by Guy De Maupassant

Author:Guy De Maupassant
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Oxford University Press
Published: 1990-02-06T05:00:00+00:00

The Patron

NEVER in his wildest dreams had he thought that he would ever have done so well for himself! The son of a provincial bailiff, Jean Marin, like so many others before him, had come to the Latin Quarter as a law student. In the various cafés which he had frequented in turn, he had become friendly with a number of loquacious students who talked politics furiously as they drank their beer. He had conceived a great admiration for them and stubbornly followed them from café to café, even paying for their drinks when he had the money.

Then he became a lawyer and took on cases which he regularly lost. One morning, he read in the paper that one of his old friends had just become a member of parliament. Once more, he became as faithful as the proverbial dog, the friend who does the unpleasant jobs and the nasty business, the one who always gets sent for, the one with the feelings which do not have to be considered. But as a result of some party infighting, the member of parliament became a Minister. Six months later, Jean Marin was appointed Privy Councillor.

At first he felt a surge of pride which he could barely contain. He would walk through the streets taking huge delight in showing himself off, as though people could tell what an important position he held simply by looking at him. He always managed to slip a mention of it into even the most trivial conversations he had with shopkeepers he patronized, newspaper-sellers, or even cab-drivers: ‘Now, as a Privy Councillor, I …’

Next, he felt as a matter of imperious need that it was incumbent upon him, as a result of his dignity, as a requirement laid down by professional necessity, as the expression of his duty as a powerful and generous man, to offer his patronage. He offered his support to everyone on every possible occasion with unquenchable generosity.

Whenever he was out strolling along the boulevards and met up with someone he knew, he approached him delightedly, shook him warmly by the hand, enquired after his health, and then, without prompting, declared: ‘You know, I am a Privy Councillor and would be only too glad to be of service. If I can be of help in any way at all, please do not hesitate to call on me. When you have a position like mine, there’s a lot that can be done.’ And he would go into the nearest café with the friend he had just met and ask for his pen, ink, and a sheet of writing paper—’just the one, waiter; it’s for a letter of introduction.’

He wrote many letters of introduction—ten, twenty, fifty a day. He wrote them at the Café Américain, Bignon’s, Tortoni’s, the Maison Dorée, the CaféRiche, the Helder, the Café Anglais, the Napolitain, anywhere and everywhere.* He wrote to every civil servant in the Republic, from justices of the peace to Ministers. And he was a happy, a very happy man.

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