Join Host Bree Carlile as she reads the one hundred sixtieth chapter of Les Miserables.

Come with us as we release one bite a day of one of your favorite classic novels, plays & short stories. Bree reads these classics like she reads to her daughter, one chapter a day. If you love books or audiobooks and want something to listen to as you're getting ready, driving to work, or as you're getting ready for bed, check out Bite at a Time Books!

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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: Values today well be

continuing.

Le miserable by Victor Hugo

Book Second the great

Bourgeois chapter

190 years and

32 teeth in the rue

Boucherat, rue de Normandie,

and the rue de Centong. There still exist

a few ancient inhabitants who have preserved the memory of a worthy

man named Monsieur Gillenormand and who

mention him with complacence. This good

man was old when they were young. This

silhouette had not yet entirely disappeared.

For those who regard with melancholy that vague swarm of

shadows which is called the past. From the labyrinth of

streets in the vicinity of the temple to which, under Louis

XIV, the names of all the provinces of

France were appended exactly as an arde,

the streets of the new Tivoli quarter have received the names of all

the capitals of Europe, a progression, by the

way, in which progress is visible.

Monsieur de Lenormand, who was as much alive as

possible in 1831, was one of those men who

had become curiosities to be viewed

simply because they have lived a long time and who

are strange because they formerly resembled everybody

and now resemble nobody. He was a

peculiar old man, and in very truth, a man of

another age. The real, complete

and rather haughty bourgeois of the 18th

century, who wore his good old bourgeoisie with

the air with which marquises wear their

marquisates. He was over 90 years of

age. His walk was erect. He talked

loudly, saw clearly, drank neat,

ate, slept and snored. He had

all 32 of his teeth. He only wore spectacles

when he read. He was of an amorous disposition,

but declared that for the last ten years he had wholly and

decidedly renounced women he could no

longer please. He said he did not add,

im too old, but I am too poor, he

said, if I were not ruined, hey.

All he had left, in fact, was an income of about

15,000 francs. His dream was to come

into an inheritance and to have 100,000 livres

income for mistresses. He did not

belong, as the reader will perceive, to that puny

variety of octogenaries who, like Monsieur

de Voltaire, have been dying all their life.

His was no longevity of a cracked pot.

This jovial old man had always had good

health. He was superficial,

rapid, easily angered. He

flew into a passion at everything, generally, quite

contrary to all reason. When contradicted,

he raised his cane. He beat people as he had done in the

great century. He had a daughter over 50 years of

age and unmarried, whom, he chastised severely with his

tongue when in a rage, and whom he would

have liked to whip. She seemed to him to be

eight years old. He boxed his servants ears

soundly and said, ah, kergue. No. One of

his oaths was by the pantafluche of the

pantafluchade. He had singular freaks

of tranquility. He had himself shaved every day

by a barber who had been mad and who detested

him, being jealous of Monsieur Gillenormand on account of

his wife, a pretty and coquettish

barbaress. Monsieur de Lenormand

admired his own discernment in all things and declared

that he was extremely sagacious. Here

is one of his. I have in truth,

some penetration, I am able to say, when a flea

bites me. From what woman it came. The

words which he uttered the most frequently were the sensible man

and nature. He did not give to this

last word the grand acceptation which our epic has

accorded to it, but he made it enter,

after his own fashion, into his little chimney corner

satires. Nature, he said,

in order that civilization may have a little of everything,

gives it even specimens of its amusing

barbarism. Europe possesses specimens

of Asia and Africa on a small scale.

The cat is a drawing room tiger. The

lizard is a pocket crocodile. The dancers at the

opera are pink female savages. They do not

eat men. They quench them. Or

magicians that they are they transform them into

oysters and swallow them. The

Caribbeans leave only the bones they leave only

the shell. Such are our morals.

We do not devour, we gnaw.

We do not exterminate. We claw.

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 le Miserable.