disarmed them by his modesty; and very impatient to share his joy with
his friends, the Gerards, he quickly walked the length of Montmartre and
reached them just at their dinner hour.

They did not expect him, and only had for their dinner the remains of the
boiled beef of the night before, with some cucumbers. Amedee carried his
cake, as usual, and, what was better still, two sauces that always make
the poorest meal palatable--hope and happiness.

They had already read the journals and knew that the poem had been
applauded at the Gaite, and that it had at once been printed on the first
page of the journal; and they were all so pleased, so glad, that they
kissed Amedee on both cheeks. Mamma Gerard remembered that she had a few
bottles--five or six--of old chambertin in the cellar, and you could not
have prevented the excellent woman from taking her key and taper at once,
and going for those old bottles covered with cobwebs and dust, that they
might drink to the health of the triumphant one. As to Louise, she was
radiant, for in several houses where she gave lessons she had heard them
talk of the fine and admirable verses published in Le Tapage, and she was
very proud to think that the author was a friend of hers. What completed
Amedee's pleasure was that for the first time Maria seemed to be
interested in his poem, and said several times to him, with such a
pretty, vain little air:

"Do you know, your battle is very nice. Amedee, you are going to become
a great poet, a celebrated man! What a superb future you have before
you!"

Ah! what exquisitely sweet hopes he carried away that evening to his room
in the Faubourg St.-Jacques! They gave him beautiful dreams, and