ruments we are, that Hope can make us thus vibrate by a touch of her
little finger!

ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

Happy men don't need company
Lends--I should say gives
Natural only when alone, and talk well only to themselves
One doesn't offer apologies to a man in his wrath
Silence, alas! is not the reproof of kings alone
The looks of the young are always full of the future
You a law student, while our farmers are in want of hands

THE INK STAIN BY RENE BAZIN

(Tache d'Encre)

By RENE BAZIN

BOOK 2.

CHAPTER VIII

JOY AND MADNESS

May 1st.

These four days have seemed as if they never would end--especially the
last. But now it wants only two minutes of noon. In two minutes, if
Lampron is not late--

Rat-a-tat-tat!

"Come in."

"It is twelve o'clock, my friend; are you coming?"

It was Lampron.

For the last hour I had had my hat on my head, my stick between my legs,
and had been turning over my essay with gloved hands. He laughed at me. I
don't care. We walked, for the day was clear and warm. All the world was
out and about. Who can stay indoors on May Day? As we neared the Chamber
of Deputies, perambulators full of babies in white capes came pouring
from all the neighboring streets, and made their resplendent way toward
the Tuileries. Lampron was in a talkative mood. He was pleased with the
hanging of his pictures, and his plan of compaign against Mademoiselle
Jeanne.

"She is sure to have heard of it, Fabien, and perhaps is there already.
Who can tell?"

"Oh, cease your humbug! Yes, very possibly she is there before us. I have
had a feeling that she would be for these last four days."

"You don't say so!"

"I have pictured her a score of times ascending the staircase on her
father's arm. We are at the foot, lost in the crowd. Her noble, clear-cut
profile stands out against the Gobelin tapestries which frame it with
their embroidered flowers; one would say some maiden of bygone days had
come to life, and stepped down from her tapestried panel."

"Gentlemen!" said Lampron, with a sweep of his arm which took in the
whole of the Place de la Concorde, "allow me to present to you the
intending successor of Counsellor Mouillard, lawyer, of Bourges. Every
inch of him a man of business!"

We were getting near. Crowds were on their way to the exhibition from all
sides, women in spring frocks, many of the men in whi