THE PARISIANS LAUGH AT GARGANTUA.--HE TAKES HIS REVENGE BY STEALING THE
GREAT BELLS OF NÔTRE-DÂME.
[Illustration: Initial T.]
The first thing Gargantua did, on reaching Paris, was to make a resolve
that he and his people should have a gay time. Some days after, when
they had all rested well and had feasted until they were full of good
eating and drinking, Gargantua started on a stroll through the town to
find what was to be seen. The Paris Gargantua saw was not the Paris of
to-day,--not nearly so mighty a city as it has since become. But its
people then were every bit as fond of merry-making and of seeing shows
as they are now. One who lived in those days, and who boasted that he
knew the Parisians better than they did themselves, says that they
were so silly and so stupid by nature that it only took a rope-dancer,
dancing on his rope, or a Merry-Andrew playing at his tricks, or a
bawler of old scraps, or a blind fiddler, or a hurdy-gurdy in the
market-place, to appear, to draw a bigger crowd than the holiest and
most eloquent preacher. Now, a Giant like Gargantua was himself such a
show as the people of Paris had never before set their silly eyes on.
Of course they swarmed around him with staring eyes and open mouths,
pushing against him here, and knocking against him there, in their
strong desire to see as much of him as they could. They troubled him
almost as much as the flies and hornets of _La Beauce_ had troubled
his mare. Some, bolder than the rest, even ran in and out between his
legs as he strode along the street. At first, Gargantua took the crowd
good-naturedly enough. By and by, he began to think that all this
squeezing and tickling were getting just a little tiresome. He looked
around in a helpless sort of way, until, by good luck, his eyes fell
on the tall towers of _Nôtre Dâme_ Cathedral, near by. "Ha! ha! that's
the very place for me," he cried, and, without further ado, resting one
hand on the top of the roof to steady himself, he went whizzing with a
great leap past the statues of Adam and Eve, that looked wonderingly
out from their stony niches. The idle crowd was afraid to follow
Gargantua; but it stood packed up close together in the open space
which surrounded the old church, gazing at him as he went through the
air, and wondering all the time what the Giant was going to do with
their famous towers. It was not long before they found out. No sooner
was he on the roof than Gargantua caught sight of the great tanks
filled with water which were then to be found there. Chuckling to
himself, he cried: "Now for some fun! I shall pledge this good people
of Paris in a glass of wine." Up he caught one of the tanks, poised
it for a moment in the air, and then shouting out: "_To your health,
good folks!_" tipped it just a bit. Down poured its water in a full
stream. Then he threw the tank after it. Quick, before one could think
or breathe, the others followed. So sudden was the down-pour of water
that the people thought a tremendous water-spout, in passing over their
city, had burst upon them. Two hundred and sixty thousand, four hundred
and eighteen persons were drowned on that day by the water, or crushed
by the tanks, or killed by being run over by those seeking to escape.
Those who were lucky got away as fast as they could. In less than three
minutes the square was empty, for the water, as it rolled out into the
streets, washed all the dead away.
[Illustration: GARGANTUA ENTERS PARIS.]
Gargantua, who was a good-hearted Giant, little knew what mischief he
had done. After he had emptied all the tanks, and thrown them away,
he ceased to think about the people. He had only gone on the roof to
rid himself of the buzzing and nudging of the crowd; and, not hearing
any more from them, he set about amusing himself. When he caught sight
of the great bells of _Nôtre Dâme_, a happy idea struck him. He would
set them to ringing and pealing! Ah, how he was charmed! their notes
were so soft, so rich, so mellow, so tender, so golden! He wanted to
have the bells about him all the time. Just then he thought: "These
Parisians deserve a lesson for their bad manners, and I am going to
revenge myself." So he at once began to pick up the bells, one after
the other, as if they were so many buckets. When he had gathered them
all, he leaped down from the roof and strode across the city in the
direction of his hotel. Once there, a merry thought came to him, which
made him drop the bells and clap his thighs with a sound that brought
all the good wives of Paris--or those that remained after the affair of
the tanks--to their windows.
"Ho! ho! ho! I have it now! I shall keep my beautiful bells to please
my father, and pay the Parisians, all at the same time. I send my
mare home to-morrow. Every little donkey nowadays wears a collar with
jingling bells. _My_ Mare shall carry at her neck the bells of _Nôtre
Dâme!_"
[Illustration: THE CITY WAS EXCITED.]
Gargantua went straight to the stable where his Mare had already found
her fodder, and, with great care, while Gymnaste, his squire, held the
candle, placed the bells of _Nôtre Dâme_, one by one, around her neck.
The city was greatly excited at the loss of the bells; and, the next
day, there came a long line of grave, black-robed men who proved to him
in learned speeches that the holy church of _Nôtre Dâme_ had a right to
her own bells. Gargantua, now that all the excitement had passed, felt
that he had done a very silly thing, and could only say that the bells
were not lost; but that if their worships would go to the stable, they
would find them still hanging from the neck of his great Mare. After
further talk, and much good drinking, the grave, black-robed men--who,
if the whole truth were to be told, were not a little afraid of the
Giant--picked up heart to say: "Give us back our bells, and we shall
bind ourselves to give your Mare free grazing in the forest of Bière,
so long as Your Highness honors us with your presence."
Gargantua was very willing to accept this offer. The bells were taken
back in great state to _Nôtre Dâme_, where--God bless them!--they may
be seen, and heard too, when the sun shines and when the rain falls, to
this very day.