rves is empty! Anyone else would have been
vexed: as for me, I affect the most supreme indifference. There remains
a hard crust, which I break by main strength, and which I carelessly
nibble, as a man far above the vanities of the world and of fresh rolls.

However, I do not know why my thoughts should grow more gloomy by
reason of the difficulties of mastication. I once read the story of
an Englishman who hanged himself because they had brought him his tea
without sugar. There are hours in life when the most trifling cross
takes the form of a calamity. Our tempers are like an opera-glass, which
makes the object small or great according to the end you look through.

Usually, the prospect that opens out before my window delights me. It is
a mountain-range of roofs, with ridges crossing, interlacing, and piled
on one another, and upon which tall chimneys raise their peaks. It was
but yesterday that they had an Alpine aspect to me, and I waited for the
first snowstorm to see glaciers among them; to-day, I only see tiles
and stone flues. The pigeons, which assisted my rural illusions, seem
no more than miserable birds which have mistaken the roof for the back
yard; the smoke, which rises in light clouds, instead of making me
dream of the panting of Vesuvius, reminds me of kitchen preparations
and dishwater; and lastly, the telegraph, that I see far off on the old
tower of Montmartre, has the effect of a vile gallows stretching its
arms over the city.

My eyes, thus hurt by all they meet, fall upon the great man's house
which faces my attic.

The influence of New-Year's Day is visible there. The servants have an
air of eagerness proportioned to the value of their New-Year's gifts,
received or expected. I see the master of the house crossing the court
with the morose look of a man who is forced to be generous; and
the visitors increase, followed by shop porters who carry flowers,
bandboxes, or toys. Suddenly the great gates are opened, and a new
carriage, drawn by thoroughbred horses, draws up before the doorsteps.
They are, without doubt, the New-Year's gift presented to the mistress
of the house by her husband; for she comes herself to look at the new
equipage. Very soon she gets into it with a little girl, all streaming
with laces, feathers and velvets, and loaded with parcels which she goes
to distribute as New-Year's gifts. The door is shut, the windows are
drawn up, the carriage sets off.

Thus all the world are ex