spirits."

"Well, Cephyse shall be of the party."

"Have you come into a fortune, great apostle?"

"Better than that, most rosy and pompous of all Rose-Pom, pons! I am head
editor of a religious journal; and as I must make some appearance in so
respectable a concern, I ask every month for four weeks in advance, and
three days of liberty. On this condition, I consent to play the saint for
twenty-seven days out of thirty, and to be always as grave and heavy as
the paper itself."

"A journal! that will be something droll, and dance forbidden steps all
alone on the tables of the cafes."

"Yes, it will be droll enough; but not for everybody. They are rich
sacristans, who pay the expenses. They don't look to money, provided the
journal bites, tears, burns, pounds, exterminates and destroys. On my
word of honor, I shall never have been in such a fury!" added Ninny
Moulin, with a loud, hoarse laugh. "I shall wash the wounds of my
adversaries with venom of the finest vintage, and gall of the first
quality."

For his peroration, Ninny Moulin imitated the pop of uncorking a bottle
of champagne--which made Rose-Pompon laugh heartily.

"And what," resumed she, "will be the name of your journal of
sacristans?"