4Do not joggle my arm, clumsy animal! And stop
breathing warm wetness into my ear; it distracts me/
he would scold at the spell-bound Christophe.
There were also wooden blotters having views of
Saint Loup, for Anfos must cease from his carving of
dreams and content himself with the peaks of the
Maures, and with ships that sailed upon earthly waters.
And pin-trays there were, and photograph frames
together "with other gifts suitable for ladies, so that he
who possessed the requisite price could send a souvenir
to his sweetheart. The entire collection was neatly
displayed upon trestle-tables set out in the roadway.
But one morning Anfos abruptly remembered the
crucifix he had made for the Cure, and he started to
carve many little Christs from fragments of wood that
Kahn had discarded—with incredible speed he
carved little Christs, then nailed them on to their
miniature crosses. And as he did this he moaned and
wept, keeping up a perpetual loud lamentation,
flinching each time he adjusted a nail and tapped it
lightly in place with his mallet.
cAi! paure pichounet, ai! ai!' he moaned, as though
he lamented over a baby.
Kahn became impatient, but Christophe whispered
that he must not try to coerce the apprentice lest this
fit of madness grow more acute: clt is that he wishes to
dream,' explained Christophe, 'and that when we will
not permit him to dream he tries to hide himself from
us with God; but to-day he is finding God very sad/
Anfos looked up with red-rimmed eyes: cGod is
always sad, as you know,5 he told Christophe.
After all, the crucifixes sold well; quite a number
of wounded soldiers bought them: 'Dis done, les
petits crucifix . . . combien?' And having been
informed, they would finger them shyly. Then: cAlors
. . . oui/ Aiid off they would go with their pur-
chases tucked away in their pockets.
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