In the Days of My Youth: A NovelEdwards, Amelia B.
General
In the Days of My Youth: A Novel
Edwards, Amelia B.
Love stories; Medical students -- Fiction; Paris (France) -- Fiction
"Carried by acclamation," said Müller. "We can buy them on our way, in
the Rue Vivienne. A capital shop; but one that I never patronize--they
give no credit."
Chatting thus, and laughing, we made our way across the Boulevard and
through a net-work of by-streets into the Rue Vivienne, where we laid
siege to a great bon-bon shop--a gigantic depot for dyspepsia at so
much per kilogramme--and there filled our pockets with sweets of every
imaginable flavor and color. This done, a cab conveyed us in something
less than ten minutes across the Pont Neuf to the Quartier Latin.
Müller's friends were three in number, and all students--one of art, one
of law, and one of medicine. They lodged at the top of a dingy house
near the Odéon, and being very great friends and very near neighbors
were giving this entertainment conjointly. Their names were Gustave,
Jules, and Adrien. Adrien was the artist, and lived in the garret, just
over the heads of Gustave and Jules, which made it very convenient for a
party, and placed a _suite_ of rooms at the disposal of their visitors.
Long before we had achieved the five pairs of stairs, we heard the sound
of voices and the scraping of a violin, and on the fifth landing were
received by a pretty young lady in a coquettish little cap, whom Müller
familiarly addressed as Annette, and who piloted us into a very small
bed-room which was already full of hats and coats, bonnets, shawls, and
umbrellas. Having added our own paletots and beavers to the general
stock, and having each received a little bit of pasteboard in exchange
for the same, we were shown into the ball-room by Mademoiselle Annette,
who appeared to fill the position of hostess, usher, and general
superintendent.
It was a good-sized room, somewhat low in the ceiling, and brilliantly
lighted with lots of tallow candles in bottles. The furniture had all
been cleared out for the dancers, except a row of benches round the
walls, and a chest of draws in a recess between the windows which served
as a raised platform for the orchestra. The said orchestra consisted of
a violin and accordion, both played by amateurs, with an occasional
_obligato_ on the common comb. As for the guests, they were, as Müller
had already told us, all students and grisettes--the former wearing
every strange variety of beard and blouse; the latter in pretty
light-colored muslins and bewitching little caps, with the exception of
two who wore flowers in their hair, and belonged to the opera ballet.
They were in the midst of a tremendous galop when we arrived; so we
stood at the door and looked on, and Dalrymple flirted with Mademoiselle
Annette. As soon as the galop was over, two of our hosts came forward to
welcome us.
"The Duke of Dalrymple and the Marquis of Arbuthnot--Messieurs Jules
Charpentier and Gustave Dubois," said Müller, with the most _dégagé_ air
in the world.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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