had cut my wisdom teeth."

All this was told quietly, and in the cheerful spirit of him who looks
upon an accomplished duty neither as a merit nor a grievance.

While he spoke, Father Chaufour grew animated, not on account of himself,
but of the general subject. Evidently that which occupied him in the
drama of life was not his own part, but the drama itself.

This sort of disinterestedness touched me. I prolonged my visit, and
showed myself as frank as possible, in order to win his confidence in
return. In an hour's time he knew my position and my habits; I was on
the footing of an old acquaintance.

I even confessed the ill-humor the light of his lamp put me into a short
time before. He took what I said with the touching cheerfulness which
comes from a heart in the right place, and which looks upon everything on
the good side. He neither spoke to me of the necessity which obliged him
to work while I could sleep, nor of the deprivations of the old soldier
compared to the luxury of the young clerk; he only struck his forehead,
accused himself of thoughtlessness, and promised to put list round his
door!

O great and beautiful soul! with whom nothing turns to bitterness, and
who art peremptory only in duty and benevolence!


October 15th.--This morning I was looking at a little engraving I had
framed myself, and hung over my writing-table; it is a design of
Gavarni's; in which, in a grave mood, he has represented a veteran and a