Page:The Bohemians of the Latin Quarter.djvu/162

“You have seen the new piece, then?”

“Who else would have seen it? I am the Odeon audience.”

“That is true,” said the critic, “ you are one of the caryatides of the theatre. It is even rumored that it is you who finds the money for its subvention. Well, this is what I want of you, a summary of the plot of the new piece.”

“That is easy, I have the memory of a creditor.”

“Whom is this piece by?” asked the critic of Rodolphe, whilst the latter was writing.

“A gentleman.”

“It cannot be up to much.”

“Well, it is not as strong as a Turk.”

“Then it cannot be very robust. The Turks, you see, have usurped a reputation for strength. Besides, there are no longer any Turks except at masked balls and in the Champes-Elysées where they sell dates. One of my friends knows the East and he assures me that all the natives of it were born in the Rue Coquenard.”

“That is smart,” said Rodolphe.

“You think so?” observed the critic; “I will put it in my article.”

“Here is my analysis of the piece, it is to the point,” resumed Rodolphe.

“Yes, but it is short.”

“By putting in dashes and developing your critical opinion it will fill some space.”

“I have scarcely time, my dear fellow, and then my critical opinion will not fill enough space either.”

“You can stick in an adjective at every third word.”

“Cannot you tail on to your analysis a little, or rather a long criticism of the piece, eh?” asked the critic.

“Humph,” said Rodolphe, “I have certainly some