e."

"Consequently, in spite of the regret which he feels, the proprietor of
the establishment finds himself obliged to request the Colline party to
choose some other place for their revolutionary meetings."

Gustave Colline, who was the Cicero of the set, took the floor and
demonstrated to the landlord that his complaints were frivolous and
unfounded; that they did him great honor in making his establishment a
home of intellect; that their departure and that of their friends would
be the ruin of his house, which their presence elevated to the rank of a
literary and artistic club.

"But," objected the other, "you and those who come to see you call for
so little."

"This temperance to which you object," replied Colline, "is an argument
in favor of our morals. Moreover, it depends on yourself whether we
spend more or not. You have only to open an account with us."

The landlord pretended not to hear this, and demanded some explanation
of the incendiary letter addressed by Bergami to his wife. Rodolphe,
accused of acting as secretary to the waiter, strenuously asserted his
innocence--

"For," said he, "the lady's virtue was a sure barrier--"

The landlord would not repress a smile of pride. Finally, Colline
entangled him completely in the folds of his insidious oratory, and
everything was arranged, on the conditions that the party should cease
making their own coffee, that the establishment should receive "The
Beaver" gratis, that Phemie should come in a bonnet, that the backgammon
board should be given up to the Bosquets every Sunday from twelve to
two, and above all, that no one should ask for tick.

On this basis everything went well for some time.

It was Christmas Eve. The four friends came to the cafe accompanied by
their friends of the other sex. There was Marcel's Musette, Rodolphe's
new flame, Mimi, a lovely creature, with a voice like a pair of cymbals,
and Schaunard's idol, Phemie Teinturiere. That night, Phemie, according
to agreement, had her bonnet on. As to Madame Colline that should have
been, no one ever saw her; she was always at home, occupied in
punctuating her husband's manuscripts. After the coffee, which was on
this great occasion escorted by a regiment of small glasses of brandy,
they called for punch. The waiter was so little accustomed to the order,
that they had to repeat it twice. Phemie, who had never been to such a
place before, seemed in a state of ecstacy at drinking out of glasses