Page:The Bohemians of the Latin Quarter.djvu/121

Ostracized by an inhospitable proprietor, Rodolphe had for some time been leading a life compared with which the existence of a cloud is rather stationary. He practiced assiduously the arts of going to bed without supper, and supping without going to bed. He often dined with Duke Humphrey, and generally slept at the sign of the clear sky. Still, amid all these crosses and troubles, two things never forsook him: his good-humor and the manuscript of “The Avenger,” a drama which had gone the rounds of all the theatres in Paris.

One day Rodolphe, who had been jugged for some slight choregraphic extravagances, stumbled upon an uncle of his, one Monetti, a stove-maker and smoky chimney-doctor, and sergeant of the National Guard, whom he had not seen for an age. Touched by his nephew’s misfortunes, Uncle Monetti promised to ameliorate his position. We shall see how, if the reader is not afraid of mounting six stories.

Take note of the banisters, then, and follow. Up we go! Whew! one hundred and twenty-five steps! Here we are at last. One more step, and we are in the room; one more yet, and we should be out of it again. It’s little, but high up, with the advantages of good air and a fine prospect.

The furniture is composed of two French stoves, several German ditto, some ovens on the economic plan, (especially if you never make fire in them,) a dozen stove-pipes, some red clay, some sheet-iron, and a whole host of heating-ap-