ad been hooked through
the stomach; the hook had caught him as it was being drawn out of the
water.

Patissot was filled with a boundless, triumphant joy; he wished to have
the fish fried for himself alone.

During the dinner the friends grew still more intimate. He learned that
the fat gentleman lived at Argenteuil and had been sailing boats for
thirty years without losing interest in the sport. He accepted to
take luncheon with him the following Sunday and to take a sail in his
friend's clipper, Plongeon. He became so interested in the conversation
that he forgot all about his catch. He did not remember it until after
the coffee, and he demanded that it be brought him. It was alone in the
middle of a platter, and looked like a yellow, twisted match, But he
ate it with pride and relish, and at night, on the omnibus, he told his
neighbors that he had caught fourteen pounds of fish during the day.

TWO CELEBRITIES

Monsieur Patissot had promised his friend, the boating man, that he
would spend the following Sunday with him. An unforeseen occurrence
changed his plan. One evening, on the boulevard, he met one of his
cousins whom he saw but very seldom. He was a pleasant journalist, well
received in all classes of society, who offered to show Patissot many
interesting things.

"What are you going to do next Sunday?"

"I'm going boating at Argenteuil."

"Come on! Boating is an awful bore; there is no variety to it. Listen
--I'll take you along with me. I'll introduce you to two celebrities. We
will visit the homes of two artists."

"But I have been ordered to go to the country!"

"That's just where we'll go. On the way we'll call on Meissonier, at his
place in Poissy; then we'll walk over to Medan, where Zola lives. I have
been commissioned to obtain his next novel for our newspaper."

Patissot, wild with joy, accepted the invitation. He even bought a new
frock coat, as his own was too much worn to make a good appearance. He
was terribly afraid of saying something foolish either to the artist or
to the man of letters, as do people who speak of an art which they have
never professed.

He mentioned his fears to his cousin, who laughed and answered: "Pshaw!
Just pay them compliments, nothing but compliments, always compliments;
in that way, if you say anything foolish it will be overlooked. Do you
know Meissonier's paintings?"

"I should say I do."

"Have you read the Rougon-Macquart series?"