nature to interest your
readers."

"Yes," said la Peyrade, with a maliciousness that was quite lost upon
Phellion, "thoughts, especially in the style of la Rochefoucauld or la
Bruyere, might do. What do you think yourself, Thuillier?"

He reserved to himself the right to leave the responsibility of
refusals, as far as he could, to the proprietor of the paper.

"But I imagine that thoughts, especially if detached, cannot be very
consecutive," said Thuillier.

"Evidently not," replied Phellion; "detached thoughts imply the idea of
a very great number of subjects on which the author lets his pen stray
without the pretension of presenting a whole."

"You will of course sign them?" said la Peyrade.

"Oh, no!" replied Phellion, alarmed. "I could not put myself on
exhibition in that way."

"Your modesty, which by the bye I understand and approve, settles the
matter," said la Peyrade. "Thoughts are a subject altogether individual,
which imperatively require to be personified by a name. You must be
conscious of this yourself. 'Divers Thoughts by Monsieur Three-Stars'
says nothing to the public."

Seeing that Phellion was about to make objections, Thuillier, who was in
a hurry to begin his fight with la Peyrade, cut the matter short rather
sharply.

"My dear Phellion," he said, "I beg your pardon for not being able to
enjoy the pleasure of your conversation any longer, but we have to talk,
la Peyrade and I, over a matter of much importance, and in newspaper
offices this devilish time runs away so fast. If you are willing, we
will postpone the question to another day. Madame Phellion is well, I
trust?"

"Perfectly well," said the great citizen, rising, and not appearing to
resent his dismissal. "When does your first number appear?" he added;
"it is eagerly awaited in the arrondissement."

"To-morrow I think our confession of faith will make its appearance,"
replied Thuillier, accompanying him to the door. "You will receive a
copy, my dear friend. We shall meet again soon, I hope. Come and see us,
and bring that manuscript; la Peyrade's point of view may be a little
arbitrary."

With this balm shed upon his wound, Phellion departed, and Thuillier
rang the bell for the porter.

"Could you recognize the gentlemen who has just gone out the next time
you see him?" asked Thuillier.

"Oh, yes, m'sieu, his round ball of a head is too funny to forget;
besides, it is Monsieur Phellion; haven't I opened the door to him
hu