"I've said it," rejoined Jonathan, peremptorily. "Well, if you won't come, I shall help myself, and that's unsociable," pursued the speaker, evidently, from the noise he made, suiting the action to the word. “Election be hanged!” he exclaimed. “Well, I have said what I had to say, stumblingly and badly, and baldly. "Nobody has so much cause for complaint as me," growled Austin. There must be real Valjeans, else how could authors write about them? Supposing some day she met one of these astonishing creators, who could make one cry and laugh and forget, who could thrill one with love and anger and tenderness? Most of us have witnessed carnivals.
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