Page:The Bohemians of the Latin Quarter.djvu/333

“But this chimney smokes, which is very disagreeable.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before? I will send the workmen in to-morrow,” answered the landlord, not wishing to be behind-hand in this contest of good offices. He filled up the second receipt, pushed the two over to Marcel, and stretched out his hand once more towards the heap of money. “You don’t know how timely this sum comes in,” he continued, “I have to pay some bills for repairs, and was really quite short of cash.”

“Very sorry to have made you wait.”

“Oh! it’s no matter now. Permit me”—and out went his hand again.

“Permit me,” said Marcel; “we haven’t finished with this yet. You know the old saying, ‘when the wine is drawn———’” and he filled the landlord’s glass a third time.

“One must drink it,” remarked the other, and he did so.

“Exactly,” said the artist, with a wink at his friends, who now understood what he was after.

The landlord’s eyes began to twinkle strangely. He wriggled on his chair, began to talk loosely, in all senses of the word, and promised Marcel fabulous repairs and embellishments.

“Bring up the big guns,” said the artist aside to the poet.

Rodolphe passed along a bottle of rum.

After the first glass the landlord sang a ditty, which absolutely made Schaunard blush.

After the second, he lamented his conjugal infelicity. His wife’s name being Helen, he compared himself to Menelaus.

After the third, he had an attack of philosophy, and threw out such aphorisms as these:

“Life is a river.”