the government
party; you cannot, you must not accept. Your principles will not permit
you to partake of the bread which has been watered by the tears of the
people."

"Bah!" replied Marcel, "my deputy is a moderate radical; he voted
against the government the other day. Besides, he is going to get me an
order, and he has promised to introduce me in society. Moreover, this
may be Friday as much as it likes; I am famished as Ugolino, and I mean
to dine today. There now!"

"There are other difficulties," continued Schaunard, who could not help
being a little jealous of the good fortune that had fallen to his
friend's lot. "You can't dine out in a red flannel shirt and slippers."

"I shall borrow clothes of Rodolphe or Colline."

"Infatuated youth! Do you forget that this is the twentieth, and at this
time of the month their wardrobe is up to the very top of the spout?"

"Between now and five o'clock this evening I shall find a dress-coat."

"I took three weeks to get one when I went to my cousin's wedding and
that was in January."

"Well, then, I shall go as I am," said Marcel, with a theatrical stride.
"It shall certainly never be said that a miserable question of etiquette
hindered me from making my first step in society."

"Without boots," suggested his friend.

Marcel rushed out in a state of agitation impossible to describe. At the
end of two hours he returned, loaded with a false collar.

"Hardly worth while to run so far for that," said Schaunard. "There was
paper enough to make a dozen."

"But," cried Marcel, tearing his hair, "we must have some
things--confound it!" And he commenced a thorough investigation of every
corner of the two rooms. After an hour's search, he realized a costume
thus composed:

A pair of plaid trousers, a gray hat, a red cravat, a blue waistcoat,
two boots, one black glove, and one glove that had been white.

"That will make two black gloves on a pinch," said Schaunard. "You are
going to look like the solar spectrum in that dress. To be sure, a
colourist such as you are--"

Marcel was trying the boots. Alas! They are both for the same foot! The
artist, in despair, perceived an old boot in a corner which had served
as the receptacle of their empty bladders. He seized upon it.

"From Garrick to Syllable," said his jesting comrade, "one square-toed
and the other round."

"I am going to varnish them and it won't show."

"A good idea! Now you only want the dress-coat."

"