Page:The Bohemians of the Latin Quarter.djvu/71
pressing with sufficient clearness the inquietude awakened in his mind by the rude arrival of that date, the eighth of April.
Thus they ran:
Put down six and carry one;
My poor soul would be at rest
Could I only find some one,
Some honest poor relation,
Who’d eight hundred francs advance,
To pay each obligation,
Whenever I’ve a chance.
Should sound mid-day,
To old Bernard, like a man who needs no warning,
To old Bernard, like a man who needs no warning,
To old Bernard, like a man who needs no warning,
My rent I’d pay!”
“The deuce!” exclaimed Schaunard, reading over his composition, “one and some one—those thymes are poor enough, but I have no time to make them richer. Now let us try how the notes will unite with the syllables.” And in his peculiarly frightful nasal tone he recommenced the execution of his ballad. Satisfied with the result he had just obtained, Schaunard congratulated himself with an exultant grimace, which mounted over his nose like a circumflex accent whenever he had occasion to be pleased with himself. But this triumphant happiness was destined to have no long duration. Eleven o’clock resounded from the neighboring steeple. Every stroke diffused itself through the room in mocking sounds which seemed to say to the unlucky Schaunard, “Are you ready?”
The artist bounded on his chair. “The time flies like a bird!” he exclaimed. “I have but three-quarters of an