Ernest Bourbon, with his idiotic smile perpetually plastered on his face, invites the miners into his apartment, which they accidentally destroy. Miners, as we know, always carry their shovels and pickaxes with them, and never wash.
It's not quite clear who is being mocked here, the bourgeouise Onesime, dressed to the nines and perpetually clumsy, the miners, who knock down his chandelier, or the fat manager, in a state of continual terror and disgust at the entire proceedings. It's probably all three. Jean Durand's comedy shorts, as always, are about destruction and idiocy, like most European slapstick in this period.