Join Host Bree Carlile as she reads the forty-ninth chapter of Les Miserables.

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>> Speaker A: Take a look, in the book and let's see

what we can find.

Take it chapter by chapter. One

fight 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.

>> Brie Carlisle: 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

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>> Brie Carlisle: Today we'll be continuing Les Miserable

by Victor Hugo.

Chapter ten results of the

success she had been

dismissed towards the end of the winter. The summer

passed, but winter came again. Short

days, less work.

Winter no warmth, no light,

no noonday, the evening joining on to the morning

fogs. Twilight. The window is

grey. it is impossible to see clearly at it.

The sky is but a vent hole. The whole day

is a cavern. The sun has the air of a

beggar. A frightful season.

Winter changes the water of heaven and the heart of man

into a stone. Her creditors harassed

her. Fantine earned too little.

Her dust had increased. Thenardiers

who were not promptly paid wrote to her constantly, letters

whose contents drove her to despair and whose

carriage ruined her. One day they wrote to her

that her little Cosette was entirely naked in that cold

weather, that she needed a woolen skirt, and

that her mother must send at least ten francs for this.

She received the letter and crushed it

in her hands. All day long that evening,

she went into a barber shop at the corner of the street. And

pulled out her comb. Her admirable golden

hair fell to her knees. What splendid

hair. Exclaimed the barber. How much

will you give me for it? Said she. ten

francs. Cut it off.

She purchased a knitted petticoat and sent it to the

thenardiers. This petticoat made the

thenardiers furious. It was the money that they

wanted. They gave the petticoats to eponine. The

poor lark continued to shiver. Fantine

thought, my child is no longer cold.

I have clothed her with my hair. She

put on little round caps which concealed her shorn head.

And in which she was still pretty. Dark

thoughts held possession of fantians heart.

When she saw that she could no longer dress her hair. She began to hate

everyone about her. She had long shared the

universal veneration for Father Madeline. Yet

by dint of repeating to herself. That it was he who had

discharged her. That he was the cause of her

unhappiness. She came to hate him

also. and most of all, when she

passed the factory in working hours. When the

workpeople were at the door. She affected

to laugh and sing. An old

workwoman who once saw her laughing and singing in this fashion.

Said. Theres a girl who will come to a bad

end. She took a lover.

The first two offered a man whom she did not

love. Out of bravado and with rage in

her heart. He was a miserable scamp.

A sort of mendicant musician. A

lazy beggar who beat her and who abandoned her as she had

taken him in disgust. She

adored her child. The lower she

descended, the darker everything grew about her. The

more radiant shone. That little angel at the bottom of her heart.

She said, when I get rich,

I will have my cosette with me. And she laughed.

Her cough did not leave her. And she had sweats on her

back. One day she received from the

thenardiers a letter couched in the following terms.

Cosette is ill with a malady which is going the rounds of

the neighborhood. A miliary fever, they

call it. Expensive drugs are required.

This is ruining us, and we can no longer pay for them.

If you do not send us 40 francs before the week is out,

the little one will be dead. She burst out

laughing. And said to her old neighbor. Ah, they are

good. 40 francs. The idea

that makes two napoleons. Where do they think I am

to get them? These peasants are stupid.

Truly.

>> Speaker A: Nevertheless,

>> Brie Carlisle: She went to a dormer window in the staircase. And read the

letter once more. Then she descended

the stairs and emerged, running and

leaping and still laughing. Someone

met her and said to her, what makes you so gay?

She replied, a fine piece of stupidity

that some country people have written to me. They, demand

40 francs of me. So, much for you, you

peasants. As she crossed the

square, she saw a great many people collected around

a carriage of eccentric shape, upon the top of which

stood a man dressed in red who was holding forth.

He was a quack dentist on his rounds who was offering

to the public full sets of opiates,

powders and elixirs.

Fantine mingled in the group and began to laugh with the rest at the

harangue, which contained slang for the populace

and jargon for respectable people.

The tooth puller espied the lovely laughing

girl. And suddenly exclaimed, you

beautiful teeth, you girl there who are laughing.

If you want to sell me your pallets, I will give you a gold

Napoleon apiece for them. What are my

palates?

Asked Fantine. The palates,

replied the dental professor, are the front

teeth the two upper ones?

How horrible. Exclaimed Fantine.

Two Napoleons, grumbled a toothless

old woman who was present. Heres a lucky

girl. Fantine fled

and stopped her ears that she might not hear the hoarse voice of the man

shouting to her. Reflect my

beauty to napoleons they may prove of

service. If your heart bids you come this evening to the inn

of the tlag d argent, you will find me

there. Fantine returned home.

She was furious and related the occurrence to her good neighbor

Marguerite. Can you understand such a

thing? Is he not an abominable man? How can

they allow such people to go about the country? Pull out my

two front teeth. Why, I should be horrible.

My hair will grow again. But my teeth. What

a monster of a man. I should prefer to throw myself

headfirst on the pavement. From the fifth story, he

told me that he should be at the tlac de argent this evening.

And what did he offer? Asked

Marguerite. Two Napoleons. That

makes 40 francs. Yes,

said Fantine, that makes 40

francs. She, remained thoughtful

and began her work. At the expiration of a

quarter of an hour, she left her sewing and went to read the thenardiers

letter once more on the staircase. On her

return, she said to Marguerite, who was at work beside

her, what is a miliary

fever? Do you know?

Yes, answered the old spinster.

It is a disease. Does it require many

drugs? Oh, terrible drugs.

How does one get it? It is a malady that

one gets without knowing how. Then it

attacks children, children in particular.

Do people die of it. They may, said

Marguerite. Fantine left the room and went

to read her letter once more on the staircase that

evening, she went out and was seen to turn her

steps. In the direction of the rue des Paris, where the inns are

situated. The next morning, when

Marguerite entered fantines room before daylight,

for they always worked together, and in this manner

used only one candle for the two, she

found Fantine seated on her bed, pale

and frozen. She had not lain down.

Her cap had fallen on her knees. Her candle had

burned all night and was almost entirely consumed.

Marguerite halted on the threshold,

petrified at this tremendous wastefulness, and

exclaimed, Lord, the candle is all burned

out. Something has happened.

Then she looked at Fantine, who turned

toward her, her head bereft of its

hair. Fantine had grown ten

years older since the preceding night.

Jesus, said Marguerite. What is the

matter with you, Fantine?

Nothing, replied Fantine.

Quite the contrary. My child will

not die of that frightful malady. For lack of succor.

I am content so

saying, she pointed out to the

spinster two napoleons which were glittering on the

table. Ah. Jesus. God.

Cried Marguerite. Why, it is a

fortune. Where did you get those, Louis d'or?

I got them, replied Fantine.

At the same time she smiled. The

candle illuminated her countenance. It was

a bloody smile. A reddish saliva

soiled the corners of her lips, and she had a black hole in

her mouth. The two teeth had been

extracted. She sent the 40 francs

to Montfermeier. After all, it was a

ruse of the thenardiers to obtain money. Cosette was not

ill. Fantine threw her mirror out of the

window. She had long since quitted her cell on the second

floor for an attic with only a latch to fasten it.

Next, the roof. One of those attics

whose extremity forms an angle with the floor. And knocks

you on the head every instant. A poor

occupant can reach the end of his chamber as he can the end of

his destiny, only by bending over more

and more. She had no longer a

bed. A rag, which she called her

coverlet. A mattress on the floor and a seatless

chair still remained. A little rose bush,

which she had had dried up,

forgotten in one corner. In

the other corner was a butter pot to hold water,

which froze in winter. And in which the various levels of the

water remained long, marked by the circles of ice.

She had lost her shame. She lost her cocoa

tree. Final sign.

She went out with dirty caps. Whether from

lack of time or from indifference. She no longer mended her

linen as, the heels wore out. She dragged

her stockings down into her shoes. This

was evident from the perpendicular wrinkles.

She patched her bodice, which was old and worn out

with scraps of calico, which tore at the slightest

movement. The people to whom she was

indebted made scenes and gave her no peace.

She found them in the street. She found them again on

her staircase. She passed many a night

weeping and thinking.

Her eyes were very bright, and she

felt a steady pain in her shoulder towards the top of the left

shoulder blade. She coughed a great

deal. She deeply hated Father

Madeleine, but made no

complaint. She sewed 17 hours a

day, but a contractor for the work of prisons, who made

the prisoners work at a discount, suddenly made prices

fall, which reduced the daily earnings of working

women to nine sous. 17

hours of toil and nine sous a day.

Her creditors were more pitiless than ever.

The second hand dealer, who had taken back nearly all his

furniture, said to her incessantly, when will you pay

me, you hussy? what did they want of her? Good

God. She felt that she was being

hunted, and something of the wild beast

developed in her. About the same

time, Thenardier wrote to her that he had waited with

decidedly too much amiability, and that he must have 100

francs at once, otherwise he would turn little

cosette out of doors, convalescent as she was

from her heavy illness into the cold in the

streets, and that she might do what she liked with herself

and die if she chose. A hundred

francs, thought fantine. But in

what trade can one earn 100 sous a day?

Come, said she, let us sell what is

left. The unfortunate

girl became a woman of the town.

Thank you for joining bite at a time books today while we read

a.

>> Brie Carlisle: Bite of one of your favorite classics.

Again, my name is Brie Carlisle, and.

>> Brie Carlisle: I hope you come back tomorrow,

>> Brie Carlisle: For the next bite of le Miserable.

Dont forget to sign up for our

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

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>> Brie Carlisle: Line by.

>> Speaker A: Line, one bite at a time.