DELILLE AT THE CADRAN-BLEU. 561 



pend upon my exactitude. I am one of the brothers Bertrand, com- 

 missioners for these last two hundred years, father and son. I am 

 known in every factory in France." 



ee I return you a thousand thanks," replied the poet, "but I have no 

 need of your services." 



At length the dessert arrived ; and after it was finished, Delille called 

 for the bill, which, instead of enumerating, as was customary, the 

 various viands which had been called for, only contained these simple 

 words : 



<c The honour of receiving at my house the greatest poet in France, 

 is my sweetest and my only reward. 



" HENNEVEN, Restaurateur." 



" What is this?" said the old man, rising up. " I cannot accept of 

 this offer, for I have no title to any generosity from the master of this 

 house." 



" No little," replied a person, who immediately assumed the character 

 of the restaurateur. " Ah, Monsieur Delille, you have a right to the 

 admiration of every one who has a French heart in his bosom !" 



" The honour, " said the wife of his friend, representing herself as 

 Madame Henneven, " of having the author of so many splendid works 

 in our saloon, leaves us still his debtor ;" and she took his hand and 

 kissed it. 



" My dear," said, in her turn, Madame Delille, " you must not, by 

 a refusal, offend these kind-hearted people." 



" Well," said he, " it is only then upon one condition ; that is, that 

 Monsieur and Madame Henneven will in turn come and take dinner 

 with us," 



After various compliments on both sides, Delille was prevailed upon 

 not to insist upon paying his bill. He did not, however, forget the pro- 

 mise he had made to Paul, but presented him with six francs j and then, 

 fearful that he should be recognized more generally, proposed to his 

 Antigone to go and take coffee at le Jardin Turc. 



They accordingly descended the stairs, and after walking about the 

 same distance that intervened between le Cadran Bleu and le Jardin 

 Turc, they conducted him on to a covered terrace. Various performers 

 from le Grand Salon were there, ready to play their parts, and lead 

 Delille to believe that he was really in one of the bowers of that public 

 garden which opens on le Boulevard du Temple. 



" Here one can breathe again," said the aged poet. " How I do love 

 to feel the fresh breath of the flowers and the verdure of spring !" 



He took his coffee with no small astonishment, for he declared it to 

 be the best Mocha he had ever tasted ; and he was a connoisseur therein. 



" Oh/' said his friend, " I often come hither with my family, and I 

 am sure they would place before us the very best they have in the 

 house." 



" Will Messieurs take any ice ?" said a celebrated painter, assuming 

 the character of a waiter. 



" Oh no," said Madame to Delille, " it would not be good for you." 



" Quite the contrary," said the old man ; (S it is a most excellent 

 tonic. Garcon, what ices have you ?" 



<f Monsieur may choose for himself. We have every kind that he 

 can possibly wish for : a la vanille, a la /raise, a la fambroise, au 



M. M. No. 83. 2 P 



