Maupassant's short story: "Licorice dew, licorice dew, cool licorice dew!"

I've heard stories of my uncle, Olivier, when he was dying.

I knew it was July, the sun was blazing, and it was dark in the big bedroom with the shutters closed. As he breathed slowly and quietly, in the suffocating stillness of that hot summer afternoon, suddenly a crisp bell rang from the street, and a resounding voice pierced the sullen heat, and shouted, "Cool licorice dew! Ladies, come and relieve the heat! Licorice dew, licorice dew, who wants licorice dew?" The uncle's body moved, something like a smile made his lips move, and a last ray of joy shone in his eyes, and then he closed his eyes and took his long leave.

I attended the ceremony for the unsealing of the will. Cousin Jacques rightfully inherited his father's property. As a souvenir, I gave my father a few pieces of furniture. The last clause was about me, and it read: "I left my nephew Pierre a few pages of manuscript, which can be found in the drawer to the left of my desk, and another five hundred francs to buy him a shotgun, and another hundred francs to ask him to hand over to me the first seller of licorice that he had met......"

This last one puzzled the full house. But the manuscript given to me explains this astonishing bequest.

I will transcribe it as follows:

"Human beings have always lived under the shackles of superstition. They used to think that when a child is born in the world, there will be a star in the sky, and this star will follow the blessings and misfortunes of his life, and it will be bright for him to be happy, and it will be dim for his suffering. They now believe in the influence of comets, leap years, Fridays, and the number thirteen. [53] They believed that certain people would cast magic and throw poisonous eyes. Someone said, 'Every time I meet him, it always brings me misfortune.'" All of this is true. I am convinced of this. - I'm going to make it clear: I don't believe in the mystical influence of any living or non-living thing, but I do believe in a ghostly coincidence. To be sure, it is coincidences that make some major events occur when comets visit our skies, or in leap years, that some natural and man-made disasters fall either on Fridays or coincide with the number 'thirteen', and that encounters with certain people often coincide with the recurrence of certain phenomena. Many superstitions are born from this. Superstition is formed because people look at things one-sidedly and superficially, and regard the coincidence itself as the cause, without in-depth exploration. ”

"As for me, my nakshatra, my comet, my Friday, my 'thirteen', my sorcerer, but I am truly a peddler selling licorice dew. ”

"I heard that on the day I was born, there was a licorice dew seller who sold it in front of my window all day. ”

"When I was eight years old, one day I was going for a vaginal walk in the Champs-Élysées with my nanny, and as we were crossing the street, a man in this line of work suddenly rang a bell behind me. The nanny was watching a group of soldiers walking in the distance, and I turned back to see the vendor selling licorice dew. At this moment, a lightning-fast troika rushed towards us. The coachman shouted, but the nanny didn't hear it, and neither did I. I felt like I had been knocked over, rolled a few times, and hurt a lot...... However, I still do not understand what happened, and I went into the arms of the licorice peddler, who, in order to appease me, put my mouth at the faucet and poured me a few mouthfuls of licorice dew...... I'm totally fine with that. ”

"My nanny broke the bridge of her nose. Even if she continued to look at those soldiers, those soldiers would not look at her again. ”

"When I was sixteen, I had just bought my first shotgun, and on the eve of the hunt, I took my old mother to the bus station. She suffered from rheumatism and walked very slowly. Suddenly, I heard someone behind us shouting, 'Licorice dew, licorice dew, cool licorice dew!' and the shouting was getting closer and closer, as if it was following us, chasing us! I'm sure people are looking at me and laughing at me. And the peddler was still shouting, 'Cool licorice dew!' and was clearly laughing at my shiny shotgun, new pouch and new maroon velvet hunting suit. ”

"Sitting in the carriage, I heard him shouting. ”

"The next day, I didn't catch a single prey, but I killed a running hound for a hare, and a hen for a partridge. A small bird landed on the hedge, and I fired a shot, and it flew away, but I was stunned by a terrible moo, which lasted until late into the night...... Alas, my father had to pay a poor farmer a cow. ”

"One morning, when I was twenty-five years old, I saw an old man selling licorice dew, with a wrinkled face, bent over, struggling to walk, holding a wooden cane, as if he were about to be crushed by a jug. In my opinion, he is like a god, the patriarch, the ancestor, and the great chief of all the licorice dew peddlers in the world. I drank a cup of licorice dew and paid him twenty sous [55]. A deep voice, as if coming from the tinplate can that the old man was carrying, groaned: 'This will bring you good luck, dear sir.' ’”

"It was on that day that I met my wife, who made my life so happy all the time. ”

"Finally, tell me how a licorice peddler got in the way of me becoming a governor. ”

"A revolution has just passed. I suddenly had the desire to be a public figure. I had a wealthy family, a well-known man, and I knew a minister, so I asked him to receive me and explain what I was visiting. The minister readily agreed. ”

"On the appointed day (it was summer, and it was very hot), I wore a pair of light-colored trousers, a pair of light-colored gloves, and a pair of light-colored tweed high-top shoes with patent leather toes. The road surface is hot. The sidewalks melted, and their feet sank when they stepped on them. Bulky sprinkler trucks turn roads into sinkholes. The cleaner piles the hot artificial mud in a pile every other section and pushes it into the gutter. I was only thinking about the meeting, and I walked very fast, and when I encountered a dirty stream with garbage rolling, I exerted all my strength, and I ...... Two...... Suddenly, a scream, a terrible scream, pierced my eardrums: 'Licorice, licorice, licorice, who wants licorice?' Like all people who are frightened by accidents, I shook involuntarily and slipped and fell...... It's really sad and embarrassing...... I sat in the mud...... The pants turned dark, the white shirt splattered with mud, and the hat floated around me. The crazy, hoarse voice was still shouting, 'Licorice dew, licorice dew!' and there were twenty or so people in front of me, laughing and laughing, and making all sorts of horrible grimaces at me. ”

I hurriedly ran home and changed my clothes, but the time for the meeting was over. ”

The manuscript concludes with this read:

"My little Pierre, make a friend who sells licorice. As for me, I can leave this world contentedly when I hear a licorice dew vendor shouting at the moment of death. ”

The next day I met an old vendor in the Champs-Elysées vagina who was carrying a jar of licorice dew on his back, and he looked very pitiful. I gave him my uncle's hundred francs. He shuddered in surprise and then said to me, "Thank you very much, young master, this will bring you good luck." ”