h rapid jets of smoke; then a head could be
seen gazing at the procession. It was Victor Lecoq celebrating the
marriage of his old sweetheart, wishing her happiness and sending her his
good wishes with explosions of powder. He had employed some friends of
his, five or six laboring men, for these salvoes of musketry. It could be
seen that he carried the thing off well.

The repast was given in Polyte Cacheprune's inn. Twenty covers were laid
in the great hall where people dined on market-days, and the big leg of
mutton turning before the spit, the fowl browned under their own gravy,
the chitterling roasting over the warm bright fire, filled the house with
a thick odor of coal sprinkled with fat--the powerful and heavy odor of
rustic fare.

They sat down to table at midday, and speedily the soup flowed into the
plates. The faces already had brightened up; mouths opened to utter loud
jokes, and eyes were laughing with knowing winks. They were going to
amuse themselves and no mistake.

The door opened, and old Amable presented himself. He seemed in bad humor
and his face wore a scowl, and he dragged himself forward on his sticks,
whining at every step to indicate his suffering. The sight of him caused
great annoyance; but suddenly, his neighbor, Daddy Malivoire, a big
joker, who knew all the little tricks and ways of people, began to yell,
just as Cesaire used to do, by making a speaking-trumpet of his hands.

"Hallo, my cute old boy, you have a good nose on you to be able to smell
Polyte's cookery from your own house!"

An immense laugh burst forth from the throats of those present.
Malivoire, excited by his success, went on:

"There is nothing for the rheumatics like a chitterling poultice! It
keeps your belly warm, along with a glass of three-six!"

The men uttered shouts, banged the table with their fists, laughed,
bending on one side and raising up their bodies again as if they were
each working a pump. The women clucked like hens, while the servants
wriggled, standing against the walls. Old Amable was the only one that
did not laugh, and, without making any reply, waited till they made room
for him.

They found a place for him in the middle of the table facing his
daughter-in-law, and, as soon as he was seated, he began to eat. It was
his son who was paying, after all it was right he should take his share.
With each ladlefull of soup that fell into his stomach, with each
mouthful of bread or meat crushed unde