{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_55605/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_55605","id":"gutenberg_55605","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/55605","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: French Literature","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Dogs -- Juvenile fiction","FR Nouvelles"],"text":"[Transcriber's note:\n\nThe French-language etext below is followed by an English translation.\n\nThe source edition is at http://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/bpt6k5612458x.\n]\n\n\n\n\nHistoire du chien de Brisquet\n\n\nCharles Nodier (1780-1844)\n\n\nEn notre for\u00eat de Lions, vers le hameau de la\nGoupilli\u00e8re, tout pr\u00e8s d'un grand puits-fontaine\nqui appartient \u00e0 la chapelle Saint Mathurin, il y\navait un bonhomme, b\u00fbcheron de son \u00e9tat, qui s'appelait\nBrisquet, ou autrement le fendeur \u00e0 la bonne hache, et\nqui vivait pauvrement du produit de ses fagots, avec\nsa femme qui s'appelait Brisquette.\n\nLe bon Dieu leur avait donn\u00e9 deux jolis petits enfants,\nun gar\u00e7on de sept ans qui \u00e9tait brun, et qui s'appelait\nBiscotin, et une blondine de six ans qui s'appelait\nBiscotine.\n\nOutre cela, ils avaient un chien b\u00e2tard \u00e0 poil fris\u00e9,\nnoir par tout le corps, si ce n'est au museau qu'il avait\ncouleur de feu; et c'\u00e9tait bien le meilleur chien du pays,\npour son attachement \u00e0 ses ma\u00eetres.\n\nOn l'appelait la Bichonne, parce que c'\u00e9tait peut-\u00eatre une\nchienne.\n\nVous vous souvenez du temps o\u00f9 il vint tant de loups dans\nla for\u00eat de Lions.  C'\u00e9tait dans l'ann\u00e9e des grandes neiges,\nque les pauvres gens eurent si grand-peine \u00e0 vivre.  Ce fut\nune terrible d\u00e9solation dans le pays.\n\nBrisquet, qui allait toujours \u00e0 sa besogne, et qui ne craignait\npas les loups \u00e0 cause de sa bonne hache, dit un matin \u00e0 Brisquette:\n\u00abFemme, je vous prie de ne laisser courir ni Biscotin ni Biscotine,\ntant que M. le grand-louvetier ne sera pas venu.  Il y aurait du\ndanger pour eux.  Ils ont assez de quoi marcher entre la butte et\nl'\u00e9tang, depuis que j'ai plant\u00e9 des piquets le long de l'\u00e9tang pour\nles pr\u00e9server d'accident.  Je vous prie aussi, Brisquette, de ne \npas laisser sortir la Bichonne, qui ne demande qu'\u00e0 trotter.\u00bb\n\nBrisquet disait tous les matins la m\u00eame chose \u00e0 Brisquette.  Un\nsoir il n'arrivait pas \u00e0 l'heure ordinaire.  Brisquette venait sur\nle pas de la porte, rentrait, ressortait, et disait en se croisant\nles mains:  \u00abMon Dieu, qu'il est attard\u00e9!\u00bb \n\nEt puis elle sortit encore, en criant:  \u00abEh!  Brisquet!\u00bb\n\nEt la Bichonne lui sautait jusqu'aux \u00e9paules, comme pour lui dire:\n--N'irai-je pas?\n\n\u00abPaix! lui dit Brisquette.--\u00c9coute, Biscotine, va jusque devers la \nbutte pour savoir si ton p\u00e8re ne revient pas.--Et toi, Biscotin, \nsuis le chemin au long de l'\u00e9tang, en prenant bien garde s'il n'y\na pas de piquets qui manquent.--Et crie fort:  Brisquet!  Brisquet!\nPaix, la Bichonne!\u00bb\n\nLes enfants all\u00e8rent, all\u00e8rent, et quand ils se furent rejoints \u00e0\nl'endroit o\u00f9 le sentier de l'\u00e9tang vient couper celui de la butte:\n\n\u00abMordienne, dit Biscotin, je retrouverai notre pauvre p\u00e8re, ou les\nloups m'y mangeront.\u00bb\n\n\u00abPardienne, dit Biscotine, ils m'y mangeront bien aussi.\u00bb\n\nPendant ce temps-l\u00e0, Brisquet \u00e9tait revenu par le grand chemin de\nPuchay, en passant \u00e0 la Croix aux Anes sur l'abbaye de Mortemer,\nparce qu'il avait une hott\u00e9e de cotrets \u00e0 fournir chez Jean Paquier.\n\n\u00abAs-tu vu nos enfants?\u00bb lui dit Brisquette.\n\n\u00abNos enfants?\u00bb dit Brisquet.  \u00abNos enfants?  Mon Dieu! sont-ils \nsortis?\u00bb\n\n\u00abJe les ai envoy\u00e9s \u00e0 ta rencontre jusqu'\u00e0 la butte et \u00e0 l'\u00e9tang,\nmais tu as pris par un autre chemin.\u00bb\n\nBrisquet ne posa pas sa bonne hache.  Il se mit \u00e0 courir du c\u00f4t\u00e9\nde la butte.\n\n\u00abSi tu menais la Bichonne?\u00bb lui cria Brisquette.\n\nLa Bichonne \u00e9tait d\u00e9j\u00e0 tr\u00e8s loin.\n\nElle \u00e9tait si loin que Brisquet la perdit bient\u00f4t de vue.  Et il\navait beau crier:  \u00abBiscotin!  Biscotine!\u00bb on ne lui r\u00e9pondait pas.\n\nAlors il se prit \u00e0 pleurer, parce qu'il s'imagina que ses enfants\n\u00e9taient perdus.\n\nApr\u00e8s avoir couru longtemps, longtemps, il lui sembla reconna\u00eetre\nla voix de la Bichonne.  Il marcha droit dans le fourr\u00e9, \u00e0 l'endroit\no\u00f9 il l'avait entendue, et il y entra, sa bonne hache lev\u00e9e.\n\nLa Bichonne \u00e9tait arriv\u00e9e l\u00e0, au moment o\u00f9 Biscotin et Biscotine\nallaient \u00eatre d\u00e9vor\u00e9s par un gros loup.  Elle s'\u00e9tait jet\u00e9e devant\nen aboyant, pour que ses abois avertissent Brisquet.  Brisquet, d'un\ncoup de sa bonne hache, renversa le loup raide mort, mais il \u00e9tait\ntrop tard pour la Bichonne.  Elle ne vivait d\u00e9j\u00e0 plus.\n\nBrisquet, Biscotin et Biscotine rejoignirent Brisquette.  C'\u00e9tait\nune grande joie, et cependant tout le monde pleura.  Il n'y avait\npas un regard qui ne cherch\u00e2t la Bichonne.\n\nBrisquet enterra la Bichonne au fond de son petit courtil sous une\ngrosse pierre sur laquelle le ma\u00eetre d'\u00e9cole \u00e9crivit en latin:\n\nC'EST ICI QU'EST LA BICHONNE,\nLE PAUVRE CHIEN DE BRISQUET.\n\nEt c'est depuis ce temps-l\u00e0 qu'on dit en commun proverbe: Malheureux\ncomme le chien \u00e0 Brisquet, qui n'alla qu'une fois au bois, et que le\nloup mangea.\n\n\n----------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\nThe Story of Brisquet's Dog\n\n\nCharles Nodier (1780-1844)\n\n\nIn our forest of Lions, going towards the hamlet of La\nGoupilli\u00e8re, very close to a great well-spring belonging\nto the chapel of Saint Mathurin, there was a man, a wood\ncutter by trade, called Brisquet, or the good man with an\naxe, who lived frugally from the sale of his firewood with\nhis wife, who was called Brisquette.\n\nGod had given them two fine young children, a boy of seven\nwho was dark and called Biscotin and a blonde girl of six\nwho was called Biscotine.\n\nIn addition to this they had a mongrel dog with curly hair,\nblack all over its body with the exception of its nose, which\nwas fire-red, and it was the best dog in those parts because\nof its devotion to its owners.\n\nThey called it Bichonne because it might have been a bitch.\n\nDo you remember the time when all those wolves came to the\nforest of Lions?  That was the year when it snowed a lot, when\npoor people had such a struggle just to stay alive.  The region\nwas totally desolate.\n\nBrisquet, who always went to work, and who did not fear the\nwolves owing to his sharp axe, said one morning to Brisquette:\n\"Woman, do not let either Biscotin or Biscotine go out until\nthe Wolffinder General has been.  It's too dangerous for them\nout there.  It's enough if they can walk from the mound to the\npond now that I've put up a fence around the pond to stop them\nfalling in.  I'd also like to ask you, Brisquette, not to let\nthe dog out.  All she wants to do is go for walks.\"\n\nBrisquet said the same thing to Brisquette every morning.  One\nevening he did not arrive home at his usual time.  Brisquette\ncame to the threshold, went back in, came back out and said as\nshe clasped her hands together:  \"My God, how late he is!\"\n\nAnd then she went out again shouting:  \"Eh!  Brisquet!\"\n\nAnd Bichonne jumped up at her to shoulder height as if to say:\n\"Shall I go?\"\n\n\"Down!\" said Brisquette.  \"Listen, Biscotine, go up to the mound\nto see if your father is on his way home.  And you, Biscotin,\nfollow the path along the pond and take good care if part of the\nfence is missing.  And shout out loud:  Brisquet!  Brisquet!  Get\ndown, Bichonne!\"\n\nThe children went their separate ways and when they had met up at\nthe place where the road to the pond crosses that to the mound they\nspoke:\n\n\"Damn it,\" said Biscotin, \"I'll find our poor father or the wolves\ncan make a meal of me.\"\n\n\"Damn me too,\" said Biscotine.  \"They can eat me too while they're\nat it.\"\n\nWhile all this was going on, Brisquet had come home via the main\nroad to Puchay by way of the Asses' Cross and Mortemer Abbey as he\nhad a bundle of thinly chopped firewood to deliver to Jean Paquier.\n\n\"Have you seen our children?\" said Brisquette.\n\n\"Our children?\" said Brisquet.  \"Our children?  My God!  Have they\ngone out?\"\n\n\"I sent them as far as the mound and the pond to meet you, but you\ncame by a different route.\"\n\nBrisquet did not put down his sharp axe.  He started to run in the\ndirection of the mound.\n\n\"Why don't you  take Bichonne with you?\" Brisquette shouted after him.\n\nBut Bichonne was already way ahead of him.\n\nShe was so far ahead that Brisquet soon lost sight of her.  And it did\nhim no good to shout:  \"Biscotin!  Biscotine!\"  There was no answer.\n\nHe started to cry then, for he imagined that his children were a lost\ncause.\n\nAfter running for a long long time, it seemed to him that he could hear\nBichonne barking.  He walked straight towards the thicket, to the place\nwhee he had heard her and went in with his sharp axe raised.\n\nBichonne had got there just as Biscotin and Biscotine were about to be\ndevoured by a large wolf.  She had thrown herself forward barking so that\nher barks could alert Brisquet.\n\nBrisquet with a single blow of his sharp axe struck the wolf stone dead,\nbut it was too late for him to save Bichonne.  She was dead already.\n\nBrisquet, Biscotin and Biscotine joined Brisquette.  There was great\nrejoicing, yet they all wept tears.  They all looked to see if Bichonne\nwas there and she wasn't.\n\nBrisquet buried Bichonne at the bottom of his little garden under a big\nstone on which the schoolmaster wrote in Latin:\n\nHERE LIES BICHONNE,\nBRISQUET'S POOR DOG.\n\nAnd from that time on the following proverb came into common usage:\nTo be wretched like Brisquet's dog that only went once to the wood and\nwas eaten by the wolf.","title":"Histoire du chien de Brisquet / The Story of Brisquet's Dog","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":1570}