bottle.

"Oh, dear!" said the greengrocer in amazement; "it is like a glass
trumpet."

"It is Philemon's grand gala-glass, which they gave him when he took his
degrees in boating," said Rose-Pompon, gravely.

"And to think you must put your milk in it--I am really ashamed," said
Mother Arsene.

"So am I! If I were to meet any one on the stairs, holding this glass in
my hand like a Roman candlestick, I should burst out laughing, and break
the last remnant of Philemon's bazaar, and he would give me his
malediction."

"There is no danger that you will meet any one. The first-floor is gone
out, and the second gets up very late."

"Talking of lodgers," said Rose-Pompon, "is there not a room to let on
the second-floor in the rear house? It might do for Cephyse, when
Philemon comes back."

"Yes, there is a little closet in the roof--just over the two rooms of
the mysterious old fellow," said Mother Arsene.

"Oh, yes! Father Charlemagne. Have you found out anything more about
him?"

Dear me, no, my girl! only that he came this morning at break of day, and