xquisite sketches which
have made his reputation. Thus five years passed, when I met him one day
in the editor's office of a journal for which I worked.

* * * * *

Each of us was as much pleased as the other at thus meeting again; and
after the first "What, is that you? Is that you?" we stood facing each
other, shaking hands, and exposing, in a laugh of cordial delight, our
teeth, which in old times we used to exercise on the same crust of
poverty. He had not changed. He had not even sacrificed his long hair,
which he threw back with the graceful movement of a horse who tosses his
mane. Only he had the clear complexion and calm eye of a contented man,
and his slim figure was clad in most fashionable costume.

"We won't drift apart again, will we?" said he, affectionately, taking
me by the arm; and he led me out in the boulevard, where the April sun
gilded the young leaves of the plane-trees.

Ah, happy day! How we exhausted the "Don't you remembers?" "Do you
remember the fried eggs which tasted of straw, and the dreadful
rice-milk of the Princess Chocolawska? and the melancholy air of the old
dictator? and the German who used to pawn his god every three months?"
At last those days of hardship were finished. He had from afar applauded
my success, as I had watched his. But one thing I did not know, and that
was that he had married a woman whom he adored, and that he had a
charming little girl.

"Come and see them; you shall dine with me."

I let myself be persuaded, and he carried me down to the Enclos des
Ternes, where he lived in a cottage among the trees. There everything
made you welcome. No sooner had we opened the door of the garden than a
young dog frisked about our feet.

"Down, Gavroche! He will soil your clothes."

But at the sound of the bell Madame Miraz appeared at the steps with her
little daughter in her arms. An imposing and beautiful blond, her
well-moulded figure wrapped in a blue gown.

"Put on a plate more. I've an old comrade with me."

And the happy father, keeping his hat on his head and carrying his
little girl, showed me all over his establishment--the dining-room,
brightened by light bits of faience, the study, abounding in books, with
its window opening out on the green turf, so that a puff of wind had
strewn with rose-leaves the printer's proofs which were scattered on the
table.

"This is only a beginning, you know. It wasn't so long ago that we wer