tips of her fingers large green leaves, dripping
with vinegar, and crunched them between her tiny white teeth, whose
enamel was too hard to allow them to be set on edge. Her drink was
a glass of water and syrup of gooseberries, which she stirred with a
wooden mustard-spoon. Finally, as an extra dish, she had a dozen olives
in one of those blue glass trinket-dishes sold for twenty-five sous. Her
dessert was composed of nuts, which she prepared to roast on a red-hot
shovel. That Rose-Pompon, with such an unaccountable savage choice of
food, should retain a freshness of complexion worthy of her name, is one
of those miracles, which reveal the mighty power of youth and health.
When she had eaten her salad, Rose-Pompon was about to begin upon her
olives, when a low knock was heard at the door, which was modestly
bolted on the inside.

"Who is there?" said Rose-Pompon.

"A friend--the oldest of the old," replied a sonorous, jovial voice.
"Why do you lock yourself in?"

"What! is it you, Ninny Moulin?"

"Yes, my beloved pupil. Open quickly. Time presses."

"Open to you? Oh, I dare say!--that would be pretty, the figure I am!"

"I believe you! what does it matter what figure you are? It would be
very pretty, thou rosiest of all the roses with which Cupid ever adorned
his quiver!"

"Go and preach fasting and morality in your journal, fat apostle!"
said Rose--Pompon, as she restored the scarlet shirt to its place, with
Philemon's other garments.

"I say! are we to talk much longer through the door, for the greater
edification of our neighbors?" cried Ninny Moulin. "I have something of
importance to tell you--something that will astonish you--"

"Give me time to put on my gown, great plague that you are!"

"If it is because of my modesty, do not think of it. I am not over nice.
I should like you very well as you are!"

"Only to think that such a monster is the favorite of all the
churchgoers!" said Rose-Pompon, opening the door as she finished
fastening her dress.

"So! you have at last returned to the dovecot, you stray girl!" said
Ninny Moulin, folding his arms, and looking at Rose-Pompon with comic
seriousness. "And where may you have been, I pray? For three days the
naughty little bird has left its nest."

"True; I only returned home last night. You must have called during my
absence?"

"I came, every day, and even twice a day, young lady, for I have very
serious matters to communicate."

"Very serious mat