r, and for the winter, when you cannot get sunshine for
nothing. Paulette complains that her candles go too quickly, and that
her wood costs too much. The fireplace in their garret is so large that
a fagot makes no more show in it than a match; it is so near the roof
that the wind blows the rain down it, and in winter it hails upon the
hearth; so they have left off using it. Henceforth they must be content
with an earthen chafing-dish, upon which they cook their meals. The
grandmother had often spoken of a stove that was for sale at the
broker's close by; but he asked seven francs for it, and the times are
too hard for such an expense: the family, therefore, resign themselves
to cold for economy!

As Paulette spoke, I felt more and more that I was losing my fretfulness
and low spirits. The first disclosures of the little bandbox-maker
created within me a wish that soon became a plan. I questioned her about
her daily occupations, and she informed me that on leaving me she must
go, with her brother, her sister, and grandmother, to the different
people for whom they work. My plan was immediately settled. I told the
child that I would go to see her in the evening, and I sent her away
with fresh thanks.

I placed the wallflower in the open window, where a ray of sunshine bid
it welcome; the birds were singing around, the sky had cleared up, and
the day, which began so loweringly, had become bright. I sang as I moved
about my room, and, having hastily put on my hat and coat, I went out.

Three o'clock.--All is settled with my neighbor, the chimney-doctor; he
will repair my old stove, and answers for its being as good as new.
At five o'clock we are to set out, and put it up in Paulette's
grandmother's room.

Midnight.--All has gone off well. At the hour agreed upon, I was at the
old bandbox-maker's; she was still out. My Piedmontese

[In Paris a chimney-sweeper is named "Piedmontese" or "Savoyard,"
as they usually come from that country.]

fixed the stove, while I arranged a dozen logs in the great fireplace,
taken from my winter stock. I shall make up for them by warming myself
with walking, or by going to bed earlier.

My heart beat at every step that was heard on the staircase; I trembled
lest they should interrupt me in my preparations, and should thus spoil
my intended surprise. But no!--see everything ready: the lighted stove
murmurs gently, the little lamp burns upon the table, and a bottle of
oil for it i