"Take up some trade," pursued the count. "I will gladly assist you to
become an honest man. I will lend you the money necessary to begin work,
and you can pay me when you have succeeded. Surely honest labor is the
best."
"I thank you for the good advice, Herr Count, but it is too late. I know
very well what would be best for me; but, as I said, it is too late now.
There was a time when I would gladly have labored at my trade,--for I
have one,--but no one would tolerate me because of my repulsive face.
From my childhood I have been an object of ridicule and abuse. My father
was well-born, but he died in a political prison, and I was left
destitute with this hideous face. No one would employ me for anything
but swine-herd; and even then luck was against me, for if anything went
wrong with a litter of pigs, I was always blamed for the mishap, and
sent about my business. Count Jharose gave me a job once; it was a
ridiculous task, but I was glad to get any kind of honest work. I had to
exercise the count's two tame bears--promenade with them through the
village. The bears' fore paws were tied about their necks, so that they
were obliged to walk on their hind feet, and I had to walk between them,
my hands resting on a fore leg of each animal, as if I were escorting
two young women.
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