Mueller. "A modest sum-total; but we must make it as elastic as we can.
Let me see, there'll be a franc for the fiacre, four francs for our
return tickets, four for our dinner, and two and a half to spend as we
like in the fair. Well, we can't commit any great extravagance with that
amount of floating capital."

"Better turn back and go to my rooms for some more money?" I exclaimed.
"I've two Napoleons in my desk."

"No, no--we should miss the three-fifty train, and not get another till
between five and six."

"But we shall have no fun if we have no money!"

"I dissent entirely from that proposition, Monsieur Englishman. I have
always had plenty of fun, and I have been short of cash since the hour
of my birth. Come, it shall be my proud task to-day to prove to you the
pleasures of impecuniosity!"

So with our eleven francs and a half we went on to the station, and took
our places for Courbevoie.

We travelled, of course, by third class in the open wagons; and it so
happened that in our compartment we had the company of three pretty
little chattering grisettes, a fat countrywoman with a basket, and a
quiet-looking elderly female with her niece. These last wore bonnets,
and some kind of slight mourning. They belonged evidently to the small
bourgeoise class, and sat very quietly in the corner of the carriage,
speaking to no one. The three grisettes, however, kept up an incessant
fire of small talk and squabble.

"I was on this very line last Sunday," said one. "I went with Julie to
Asnieres, and we were so gay! I wonder if it will be very gay at
Courbevoie."

"_Je m'en doute_," replied another, whom they called Lolotte. "I came to
one of the Courbevoie fetes last spring, and it was not gay at all. But
then, to be sure, I was with Edouard, and he is as dull as the first day
in Lent. Where were you last Sunday, Adele?"

"I did not go beyond the barriers. I went to the Cirque with my cousin,
and we dined in the Palais Royal. We enjoyed ourselves so much! You know
my cousin?"

"Ah! yes--the little fellow with the curly hair and the whiskers, who
waits for you at the corner when we leave the workshop."

"The same--Achille."

"Your Achille is nice-looking," said Mademoiselle Lolotte, with a
somewhat critical air. "It is a pity he squints."

"He does not squint, mam'selle."

"Oh, _ma chere_! I appeal to Caroline."

"I am not sure that he actually squints," said Mam'selle Caroline,
speaking for the first time;