ce was provided.

At the bottom of a damp, dismal-looking staircase, a glimmering light
indicated the porter's residence, rendered smoky and dingy by the
constant burning of a lamp, requisite, even at midday, to enlighten the
gloomy hole, into which Rodolph entered for the purpose of asking leave
to view the apartment then vacant.

A lamp, placed behind a glass globe filled with water, served as a
reflector; and by its light might be seen, at the far end of the "lodge"
(as in courtesy it was styled), a bed, covered with a sort of patchwork
counterpane, exhibiting a mingled mass of every known colour and
material. A walnut-tree table graced the side of the room, bearing a
variety of articles suited to the taste and ornamental notions of its
owners. First in order appeared a little waxen Saint John, with a very
fat lamb at his feet, and a large peruke of flowing white curls on his
head, the whole enclosed in a cracked glass case, the joinings of which
were ingeniously secured by slips of blue paper; secondly, a pair of old
plated candlesticks, tarnished by time, and bearing, instead of lights,
two gilded oranges,--doubtless an offering to the porteress on the last
New Year's day; and, thirdly, two boxes, the one composed of variegated
straw, the other covered with multitudinous shells, but both smelling
strongly of the galleys or house of correction[10] (let us hope, for the
sake of the morality of the porteress in the Rue du Temple, that these
precious specimens were not presented to her from the original owners
and fabricators of them); and, lastly, between the two boxes, and just
beneath a circular clock, was suspended a pair of red morocco
dress-boots, small enough for the feet of fairies, but elaborately and
skilfully designed and completed. This _chef-d'oeuvre_, as the ancient
masters of the craft would style them, joined to the fantastic designs
sketched on the walls representing boots and shoes, abundantly indicated
that the porter of this establishment devoted his time and his talents
to the repairing of shoes and shoe leather.

[10] These boxes were the exclusive manufacture of the criminals
confined either in the galleys or prisons, and who spent nearly
all their spare hours in making them.

At the instant when Rodolph ventured into the smoky den, M. Pipelet, the
porter, temporarily absent, had left his better half, Madame Pipelet, as
his representative. This individual was seated by the stove in the