of this chapter, Mademoiselle Mimi wakes up very much
astonished at Rodolphe's absence, the poet and his two friends were
ascending the stairs, accompanied by a shopman from the Deux Magots and
a milliner with specimens. Schaunard, who had bought the famous hunting
horn, marched before them playing the overture to "The Caravan."

Musette and Phemie, summoned by Mimi, who was living on the lower floor,
descended the stairs with the swiftness of avalanches on hearing the
news that the bonnets and dresses had been brought for them. Seeing this
poor wealth spread out before them, the three women went almost mad with
joy. Mimi was seized with a fit of hysterical laughter, and skipped
about like a kid, waving a barege scarf. Musette threw her arms around
Marcel's neck, with a little green boot in each hand, which she smote
together like cymbals. Phemie looked at Schaunard and sobbed. She could
only say, "Oh Alexander, Alexander!"

"There is no danger of her refusing the presents of Artaxerxes,"
murmured Colline the philosopher.

After the first outbursts of joy were over, when the choices had been
made and the bills settled, Rodolphe announced to the three girls that
they would have to make arrangements to try on their new things the next
morning.

"We will go into the country," said he.

"A fine thing to make a fuss of," exclaimed Musette. "It is not the
first time that I have bought, cut out, sewn together, and worn a dress
the same day. Besides, we have the night before us, too. We shall be
ready, shall we not, ladies?"

"Oh yes! We shall be ready," exclaimed Mimi and Phemie together.

They at once set to work, and for sixteen hours did not lay aside
scissors or needle.

The next day was the first of May. The Easter bells had rung in the
resurrection of spring a few days before, and she had come eager and
joyful. She came, as the German ballad says, light-hearted as the young
lover who is going to plant a maypole before the window of his
betrothed. She painted the sky blue, the trees green, and all things in
bright colors. She aroused the torpid sun, who was sleeping in his bed
of mists, his head resting on the snow leaden clouds that served him as
a pillow, and cried to him, "Hi! Hi! My friend, time is up, and I am
here; quick to work. Put on your fine dress of fresh rays without
further delay, and show yourself at once on your balcony to announce my
arrival."

Upon which the sun had indeed set out, and was ma