y, jet, or whip-lash, and the kitchens
adorned with superb kettles of copper, and with economical coal and gas
ovens. Jenkins wished to institute a model establishment; and he found
the thing easy, for the work was done on a large scale, as it can be
when funds are not lacking. You feel also over it all the experience and
the iron hand of "our intelligent superintendent," to whom the director
cannot refrain from paying a public tribute. This is the signal for
general congratulations. M. de la Perriere, delighted with the manner in
which the establishment is equipped, congratulates Dr. Jenkins upon his
fine creations, Jenkins compliments his friend Pondevez, who, in his
turn, thanks the Departmental secretary for having consented to honour
Bethlehem with a visit. The good Nabob makes his voice heard in this
chorus of eulogy, finds a kind word for each one, but is a little
surprised all the same that he has not been congratulated himself, since
they were about it. It is true that the best of congratulations awaits
him on the 16th March on the front page of the _Official Journal_ in
a decree which flames in advance before his eyes and makes him glance
every now and then at his buttonhole.

These pleasant words are exchanged as the party passes along a big
corridor in which the voices ring out in all their honest accents; but
suddenly a frightful noise interrupts the conversation and the advance
of the visitors. It seems to be made up of the mewing of cats in
delirium, of bellowings, of the howlings of savages performing a
war-dance, an appalling tempest of human cries, reverberated, swelled,
and prolonged by the echoing vaults. It rises and falls, ceases
suddenly, then goes on again with an extraordinary effect of unanimity.

Monsieur the Director begins to be uneasy, makes an inquiry. Jenkins
rolls furious eyes.

"Let us go on," says the director, rather anxious this time. "I know
what it is."

He knows what it is; but M. de la Perriere wishes to know also what it
is, and, before Pondevez has had the time to unfasten it, he pushes open
the massive door whence this horrible concert proceeds.

In a sordid kennel which the great cleansing has passed over, for, in
fact, it was not intended to be exhibited, on mattresses ranged on the
floor, a dozen little wretches are laid, watched over by an empty chair
on which the beginning of a knitted vest lies with an air of dignity,
and by a little broken saucepan, full of hot win