It did not seem much, but a few years of it often did for some very strong fellows.
During this conversation the other workmen were also hammering away all together.
Their tall shadows danced about in the light, the red flashes of the iron that the fire traversed, the gloomy recesses, clouds of sparks darted out from beneath the hammers and shone like suns on a level with the anvils.
And Gervaise, feeling happy and interested in the movement round the forge, did not think of leaving.
She was going a long way round to get nearer to Etienne without having her hands burnt, when she saw the dirty and bearded workman, whom she had spoken to outside, enter.
“So you’ve found him, madame?” asked he in his drunken bantering way.
“You know, Golden-Mug, it’s I who told madame where to find you.”
He was called Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, the brick of bricks, a dab hand at bolt forging, who wetted his iron every day with a pint and a half of brandy.
He had gone out to have a drop, because he felt he wanted greasing to make him last till six o’clock.
When he learnt that Little Zouzou’s real name was Etienne, he thought it very funny; and he showed his black teeth as he laughed.
Then he recognized Gervaise.
Only the day before he had had a glass of wine with Coupeau.
You could speak to Coupeau about Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst; he would at once say:
“He’s a jolly dog!”
Ah! that joker Coupeau!
He was one of the right sort; he stood treat oftener than his turn.
“I’m awfully glad to know you’re his missus,” added he.
“He deserves to have a pretty wife. Eh, Golden-Mug, madame is a fine woman, isn’t she?”
He was becoming quite gallant, sidling up towards the laundress, who took hold of her basket and held it in front of her so as to keep him at a distance.
Goujet, annoyed and seeing that his comrade was joking because of his friendship for Gervaise, called out to him:
“I say, lazybones, what about the forty millimetre bolts?
Do you think you’re equal to them now that you’ve got your gullet full, you confounded guzzler?”
The blacksmith was alluding to an order for big bolts which necessitated two beaters at the anvil.
“I’m ready to start at this moment, big baby!” replied Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst.
“It sucks it’s thumb and thinks itself a man.
In spite of your size I’m equal to you!”
“Yes, that’s it, at once.
Look sharp and off we go!”
“Right you are, my boy!”
They taunted each other, stimulated by Gervaise’s presence.
Goujet placed the pieces of iron that had been cut beforehand in the fire, then he fixed a tool-hole of large bore on an anvil.
His comrade had taken from against the wall two sledge-hammers weighing twenty pounds each, the two big sisters of the factory whom the workers called Fifine and Dedele.
And he continued to brag, talking of a half-gross of rivets which he had forged for the Dunkirk lighthouse, regular jewels, things to be put in a museum, they were so daintily finished off.
Hang it all, no! he did not fear competition; before meeting with another chap like him, you might search every factory in the capital.
They were going to have a laugh; they would see what they would see.
“Madame will be judge,” said he, turning towards the young woman.
“Enough chattering,” cried Goujet.
“Now then, Zouzou, show your muscle!
It’s not hot enough, my lad.”
But Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, asked: “So we strike together?”
“Not a bit of it! each his own bolt, my friend!”
This statement operated as a damper, and Goujet’s comrade, on hearing it, remained speechless, in spite of his boasting.
Bolts of forty millimetres fashioned by one man had never before been seen; the more so as the bolts were to be round-headed, a work of great difficulty, a real masterpiece to achieve.
The three other workmen came over, leaving their jobs, to watch.
A tall, lean one wagered a bottle of wine that Goujet would be beaten.
Meanwhile the two blacksmiths had chosen their sledge hammers with eyes closed, because Fifine weighed a half pound more than Dedele.
Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, had the good luck to put his hand on Dedele; Fifine fell to Golden-Mug.
While waiting for the iron to get hot enough, Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, again showing off, struck a pose before the anvil while casting side glances toward Gervaise.
He planted himself solidly, tapping his feet impatiently like a man ready for a fight, throwing all his strength into practice swings with Dedele.
Mon Dieu!