"Come, Monsieur Raymond, you must be generous; you shouldn't rush through the streets of Paris like a madman!" To escape the crowd, which was becoming larger every moment, Raymond emptied his pockets; but the more he gave, the more the blind man complained of his bruises. "These villains are never satisfied!" said my neighbor; "here's twelve francs for your posterior, and thirty sous for the money you lost; I think that's quite enough." "You have hurt me," said the blind man, shouting like a deaf person; "I shan't be able to walk for a week; you must make up to me what I shall lose by that." "Well, here's twelve francs more." "That's not enough, bourgeois." "What! that makes three francs a day, and still you're not satisfied! Your trade seems to be a good one!" "I'm a poor father of a family; I've got five children." "Why doesn't your wife lead you, instead of trusting you to a dog?" "My wife sings on Place Maubert, kind gentleman." "And your children?" "My oldest, a boy, sings on Boulevard des Italiens; the second, a girl, sings on Rue du Grand-Hurleur; the third, another girl, at Montparnasse; the fourth, a boy, on the Champs-Élysées; and the youngest boy is just beginning to sing on Rue du Petit-Lion. We all sing, kind gentleman." "Well! you're a good one to complain! People who sing from morning till night, and won't take three francs for a day's receipts! I should like to know if there's a family in Paris better off than that!" The crowd laughed at my neighbor's reflections. The blind man, who was inclined to be ugly, was threatened with having to go to exhibit his bruises to the magistrate, who had a regular tariff for bruised posteriors of all grades. As he had no desire to expose his hurts to the authorities, fearing a considerable abatement of his claims, he went his way with his dog, Raymond with an insult to nurse, and I with the silhouette, which I had torn down and pocketed. The hour for me to meet Caroline had arrived. I took a cab and was driven to a point behind the Château d'Eau. There I alighted, and strolled along the boulevard, awaiting my young runaway. This time she soon appeared, with several boxes in her hand. She smiled as soon as she saw me; there was less restraint in her manner, more affection in her glance, than I had seen before. Ah! I was sure now that I held sway in her heart. I led her to the cab; we put the boxes in, then took our places side by side. I told the cabman to urge his horses, for I was impatient to arrive and enjoy her surprise. At last, after a rapid journey, during which she had allowed me to hold her in my arms and to tell her again and again that I would always love her, we reached Rue Caumartin and drew up in front of her new abode.