Join Host Bree Carlile as she reads the one hundred fifty-ninth chapter of Les Miserables.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Take a look, in the book and let's see

what we can find.

Take it chapter by chapter. One

fight M at a time

so many adventures and

mountains we can climb

to give word for word, line by

line, one bite at a time.

>> Brie Carlisle: Welcome to bite at a time books where we read you your

favorite classics, one byte at a time. my name is

Bre Carlisle and I love to read and wanted to

share my passion with listeners like you. If you

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>> Brie Carlisle: Today well be continuing.

Les Miserable by Victor Hugo

chapter 13 Little

Gavroche eight or nine

years after the events narrated in the second part of this

story, people noticed on the Boulevard du

temple and in the regions of the Chateau d'eau,

a little boy, eleven or twelve years of age,

who would have realized with tolerable accuracy

that ideal of the gamin sketched out above,

if, with the laugh of his age on his lips, he had not

had a heart. Absolutely somber and empty,

this child was well muffled up in a pair of man's

trousers, but he did not get them from his

father and a woman's chemise. But

he did not get it from his mother. Some people

or other had clothed him in rags out of charity.

Still, he had a father and a mother, but his

father did not think of him, and his mother did not love him.

He was one of those children most deserving of pity

among all, one of those who have father and

mother and who are orphans. Nevertheless,

this child never felt so well as when he was in the

street. The pavements were less hard to him

than his mothers heart. His parents had

dispatched him into life with a kick. He

simply took flight. He was a

boisterous, pallid, nimble, wide awake,

jeering lad with a vivacious but sickly

air. He went and came,

sang plated hopscotch, scraped the

gutters, stole a little, but like cats

and sparrows, gaily laughed when he was called a

rogue and got angry when called a thief.

He had no shelter, no bread, no fire,

no love. But he was merry because he was

free. When these poor creatures grow to

be men, the millstones of the social order meet

them and crush them. But so long as they are

children, they escape because of their smallness.

The tiniest hole saves them.

Nevertheless, abandoned as this child was,

it sometimes happened every two or three months that he

said, come, I'll go and see Mama.

Then he quitted the boulevard, the cirque,

the Porte St. Martin, descended to the

quays, crossed the bridges, reached

the suburbs, arrived at the salpetre

and came to a halt.

Where precisely at that double,

number 50 52, with which the reader is

acquainted. At the Gorbeau hovel.

At that epoch, the hovel 5052, generally

deserted and eternally decorated with the placard chambers,

to let chanced to be a

rare thing, inhabited by numerous individuals who,

however, as is always the case in

Paris, had no connection with each other. All

belonged to that indigent class which begins to separate

from the lowest of petty bourgeoisie in straitened

circumstances, and which extends from misery to

misery into the lowest depths of society, down

to those two beings in whom all the material things of

civilization, the sewerman who sweeps

up the mud and the ragpicker who collects

scraps. The principal lodger of Jean

Valjean's day was dead and had been replaced by another

exactly like her. I know not

what philosopher had said. Old women are never lacking.

This new old woman was named Madame Bourgogne

and had nothing remarkable about her life except a dynasty of three

Paro cats who had reigned in succession over her

soul. The most miserable of those who inhabited the

hovel were a family of four persons, consisting of

father, mother and two daughters

already well grown, all four of whom were

lodged in the same attic. One of the cells which we have already

mentioned at, first sight, this

family presented no very special feature

except its extreme destitution. The

father, when he hired the chamber, had stated that his

name was Jondrette. Sometime after his

moving in, which had borne a singular resemblance to the entrance of

nothing at all. To borrow the memorable expression of the

principal tenant. This Jondrette had said to

the woman who, like her predecessor, was at the

same time portress and stair sweeper. Mother

so and so. If anyone should chance to come and inquire

for a pole or an Italian or even a

spaniard, perchance it is I.

This family was that of the Merry barefoot boy.

He arrived there and found distress

and what is still sadder, no smile,

a cold hearth and cold

hearts. When he entered, he was asked,

whence come you? He replied, from the

street. When he went away, they asked him,

whither are you going? He replied, into the

streets. His mother said to him, what did you

come here for? This child

lived in the absence of affection, like the pale plants

which spring up in cellars. It did not cause him

suffering, and he blamed no one. He

did nothing know exactly how a father and mother should

be. Nevertheless, his mother loved his

sisters. We have forgotten to mention that on the

boulevard du Temple, this child was called little

Garouche. Why, was he called little

Garoche? Probably because his fathers name was

Jondrette. It seems to be the instinct of

certain wretched families to break the thread.

The chamber which the Jondrettes inhabited in the Gorbeau

hovel was the last at the end of the corridor.

The cell next to it was occupied by a very poor young

man who was called Monsieur Marius.

Let us explain who this Monsieur Marius was.

Thank you for joining bite at a time books today while

we read a bite of one of your favorite classics.

Again, my name is Brie Carlisle

and I hope you come back tomorrow for the next

bite of Les Miserable.

>> Brie Carlisle: Dont forget to sign up for our

newsletter@biteoutimebooks.com dot. And

check out the shop. You can check out the show notes

or our website, byteaditimebooks.com,

for the rest of the links for our show, wed love

to hear from you on social media as well.

>> Brie Carlisle: Take a look and let's

see what we can find.

Take it chapter by chapter,

one at a time

mountains we can climb

take your words go word, line by

line one bite at a time.