Kiss your niece. She is well worth the trouble.' The jeweller gave
Violle a hug, and from that moment wanted nothing so much as to be alone
with her a moment, so that he might embrace her as much as he liked. For
this reason he led her without any delay down to the kitchen, under the
pretext of giving her some walnuts and wine, and he was no sooner there
with her than he began to caress her very affectionately. He would not
have stopped at that if St. Orberosia had not inspired his good wife
with the idea of seeing what he was about. She found him with the
pretended niece sitting on his knee. She called him a debauched
creature, boxed his ears, and forced him to beg her pardon. The next day
Violle resumed his previous form."

Having heard this story the venerable Canon Monnoyer thanked Pierre
Mille for having told it, and, taking up his pen, began to write out
a list of horses that would win at the next race meeting. For he was a
book-maker's clerk.

In the mean time Penguinia gloried in its wealth. Those who produced the
things necessary for life, wanted them; those who did not produce them
had more than enough. "But these," as a member of the Institute said,
"are necessary economic fatalities." The great Penguin people had no
longer either traditions, intellectual culture, or arts. The progress
of civilisation manifested itself among them by murderous industry,
infamous speculation, and hideous luxury. Its capital assumed, as
did all the great cities of the time, a cosmopolitan and financial
character. An immense and regular ugliness reigned within it. The
country enjoyed perfect tranquillity. It had reached its zenith.