The farces which were then being performed by Turlupin, Gros-Guillaume, and Gauthier-Garguille ended with the daylight, their theatres being in the open air. People dined at noon and supped at six o'clock; and when a worthy bourgeois remained at a friend's house as late as nine o'clock, he looked upon it as a genuine revel, as a youthful escapade, and hurried home at the top of his speed, carrying a lantern, and shuddering with terror many a time as he passed through the lanes which were then called streets, and in which, if he should happen to meet any evil-minded person, he was certain of obtaining no assistance from any house or shop; for when the curfew had rung, everything must be closed, and you might not even have a light in your house, if you wished to read or work, or for any reason not to go to bed. Why do we call that period "the good old time"? That is a question I have often asked myself. Is it because people were not entitled to go to bed, to work, to entertain their friends, to amuse themselves when they had the desire, the need, or the fancy so to do? Is it because people broke their necks after dark in the streets? because thieves, then called _Truands_, _Mauvais Garçons_, _Tireurs de Laine_, or _Coupeurs de Bourses_, plied their trade in broad daylight on Pont Neuf and in other localities, laughing in your face if you ventured to remonstrate? Was it because the shops were dark and filthy, devoid of taste and refinement? Was it because duels were fought on street corners, or in the public squares, two or four or twelve a day, as unconcernedly as we go boating to-day; and the authorities took no steps to prevent this butchery? Was it because edicts were promulgated every day whereby such a one was forbidden to wear silk, another to wear velvet, this woman to have a gilt girdle, another to dress in certain colors, which were too brilliant, too conspicuous for her walk in life? O short-sighted politicians! O paltry critics! who anathematize luxury, who seek to restrict refinement, who censure coquetry, and who do not understand that by such theories you strike at our commerce, our manufacturers, our mechanics--in a word, all our _workers_! In heaven's name, what harm is done if a plebeian who has money dresses fashionably, luxuriously even, if such be his taste, his caprice? Are you afraid that he may eclipse you, who assume to belong to the beau monde? Try to make yourself distinguished by your manners, your bearing, your grace, your courtesy, your language; surely you must know that those are things that cannot be bought! For my own part, I would be glad to see all the working girls in silk dresses, velvet bonnets, and lace-trimmed caps, and all the workingmen in patent-leather shoes and white gloves. Where would be the harm? Is not the picture of refinement more attractive than that of slovenliness, poverty, and want?