838 Les Miserables
In 1827 this characteristic orison had disappeared from
the wall under a triple coating of daubing paint. At the
present time it is finally disappearing from the memories of
several who were young girls then, and who are old women
now.
A large crucifix fastened to the wall completed the deco-
ration of this refectory, whose only door, as we think we
have mentioned, opened on the garden. Two narrow tables,
each flanked by two wooden benches, formed two long par-
allel lines from one end to the other of the refectory. The
walls were white, the tables were black; these two mourn-
ing colors constitute the only variety in convents. The meals
were plain, and the food of the children themselves severe.
A single dish of meat and vegetables combined, or salt
fish—such was their luxury. This meagre fare, which was
reserved for the pupils alone, was, nevertheless, an excep-
tion. The children ate in silence, under the eye of the mother
whose turn it was, who, if a fly took a notion to fly or to
hum against the rule, opened and shut a wooden book from
time to time. This silence was seasoned with the lives of the
saints, read aloud from a little pulpit with a desk, which was
situated at the foot of the crucifix. The reader was one of
the big girls, in weekly turn. At regular distances, on the
bare tables, there were large, varnished bowls in which the
pupils washed their own silver cups and knives and forks,
and into which they sometimes threw some scrap of tough
meat or spoiled fish; this was punished. These bowls were
called ronds d’eau. The child who broke the silence ‘made a
cross with her tongue.’ Where? On the ground. She licked