pate_. On
the back were visible in large letters _Oeuvres de Bon-Bon_. Thus was
delicately shadowed forth the twofold occupation of the proprietor.

Upon stepping over the threshold, the whole interior of the building
presented itself to view. A long, low-pitched room, of antique
construction, was indeed all the accommodation afforded by the _cafe_.
In a corner of the apartment stood the bed of the metaphysician. An
array of curtains, together with a canopy _a la grecque_, gave it an
air at once classic and comfortable. In the corner diagonally
opposite, appeared, in direct family communion, the properties of the
kitchen and the _bibliotheque_. A dish of polemics stood peacefully
upon the dresser. Here lay an ovenful of the latest ethics--there a
kettle of duodecimo _melanges_. Volumes of German morality were hand
and glove with the gridiron--a toasting-fork might be discovered by
the side of Eusebius--Plato reclined at his ease in the
frying-pan--and contemporary manuscripts were filed away upon the
spit.

In other respects the _Cafe de Bon-Bon_ might be said to differ little
from the usual _restaurants_ of the period. A large fireplace yawned
opposite the door. On the right of the fireplace an open cupboard
displayed a formidable array of labelled bottles.

It was here, about twelve o'clock one night, during the severe winter
of ----, that Pierre Bon-Bon, after having listened for some time to
the comments of his neighbours upon his singular propensity--that
Pierre Bon-Bon, I say, having turned them all out of his house, locked
the door upon them with an oath, and betook himself in no very pacific
mood to the comforts of a leather-bottomed arm-chair, and a fire of
blazing fagots.

It was one of those terrific nights which are only met with once or
twice during a century. It snowed fiercely, and the house tottered to
its centre with the floods of wind that, rushing through the crannies
of the wall, and pouring impetuously down the chimney, shook awfully
the curtains of the philosopher's bed, and disorganized the economy of
his _pate_-pans and papers. The huge folio sign that swung without,
exposed to the fury of the tempest, creaked ominously, and gave out a
moaning sound from its stanchions of solid oak.

It was in no placid temper, I say, that the metaphysician drew up his
chair to its customary station by the hearth. Many circumstances of a
perplexing nature had occurred during the day, to disturb the serenity