erest in the biography of one of the inhabitants of the street,
whether past or present, and that was in the biography of Mdlle.
Lenormand, a well-known fortune-teller, who lived at No. 5. They had
heard that the old woman, who had been the mistress of Hebert of "Pere
Duchesne" fame, had, during the First Revolution, predicted to Josephine
de Beauharnais that she should be empress, as some gipsy at Grenada
predicted a similar elevation to Eugenie de Montijo many years
afterwards. Mdlle. Lenormand had been imprisoned after Hebert's death,
but the moment Napoleon became first consul she was liberated, and
frequently sent for to the Luxembourg, which is but a stone's throw from
the Rue de Tournon. As a matter of course her fame spread, and she made
a great deal of money during the first empire. Ignorant as they were of
history, the sprightly grisettes of our days had heard of that; their
great ambition was to get the five francs that would open the door of
Mdlle. Lenormand's to them. Mdlle. Lenormand died about the year '43.
Jules Janin, who lived in the same street, in the house formerly
inhabited by Theroigne de Mericourt, went to the fortune-teller's
funeral. The five francs so often claimed by the _etudiante_, so rarely
forthcoming from the pockets of her admirer, was an important sum in
those days among the youth of the Quartier-Latin. There were few whose
allowance exceeded two hundred francs per month. A great many had to do
with less. Those who were in receipt of five hundred francs--perhaps not
two score among the whole number--were scarcely considered as belonging
to the fraternity. They were called "ultrapontins," to distinguish them
from those who from one year's end to another never crossed the river,
except perhaps to go to one of the theatres, because there was not much
to be seen at the Odeon during the thirties. With Harel's migration to
the Porte St. Martin, the glory of the second Theatre-Francais had
departed, and it was not until '41 that Lireux managed to revive some of
its ancient fame. By that time I had ceased to go to the Quartier-Latin,
but Lireux was a familiar figure at the Cafe Riche and at the divan of
the Rue Le Peletier; he dined now and then at the Cafe de Paris. So we
made it a point to attend every one of his first nights, notwithstanding
the warnings in verse and in prose of every wit of Paris, Theophile
Gautier included, who had written:

"On a fait la dessus mille plaisanteries,