t my dictionary. Now, a Parisian who would speak
English without a dictionary is like a child without leading-strings;
the ground trembles under him, and he stumbles at the first step. I run
then to the bookbinder's, where I left my Johnson, who lives close by in
the square.

The door is half open; I hear low groans; I enter without knocking, and
I see the bookbinder by the bedside of his fellow-lodger. This latter
has a violent fever and delirium. Pierre looks at him perplexed and out
of humor. I learn from him that his comrade was not able to get up in
the morning, and that since then he has become worse every hour.

I ask whether they have sent for a doctor.

"Oh, yes, indeed!" replied Pierre, roughly; "one must have money
in one's pocket for that, and this fellow has only debts instead of
savings."

"But you," said I, rather astonished; "are you not his friend?"

"Friend!" interrupted the bookbinder. "Yes, as much as the shaft-horse
is friend to the leader--on condition that each will take his share of
the draught, and eat his feed by himself."

"You do not intend, however, to leave him without any help?"

"Bah! he may keep in his bed till to-morrow, as I'm going to the ball."

"You mean to leave him alone?"

"Well! must I miss a party of pleasure at Courtville--[A Parisian summer
resort.]--because this fellow is lightheaded?" asked Pierre, sharply. "I
have promised to meet some friends at old Desnoyer's. Those who are sick
may take their broth; my physic is white wine."

So saying, he untied a bundle, out of which he took the fancy costume of
a waterman, and proceeded to dress himself in it.

In vain I tried to awaken some fellow-feeling for the unfortunate man
who lay groaning there close by him; being entirely taken up with the
thoughts of his expected pleasure, Pierre would hardly so much as hear
me. At last his coarse selfishness provoked me. I began reproaching
instead of remonstrating with him, and I declared him responsible for
the consequences which such a desertion must bring upon the sick man.

At this the bookbinder, who was just going, stopped with an oath,
and stamped his foot. "Am I to spend my Carnival in heating water for
footbaths, pray?"

"You must not leave your comrade to die without help!" I replied.

"Let him go to the hospital, then!"

"How can he by himself?"

Pierre seemed to make up his mind.

"Well, I'm going to take him," resumed he; "besides, I shall get rid of
him