And Bahuchet, having received his money, handed his comrade the little jar. Plumard was in such a hurry to experiment with his pomade, that he instantly tore off the paper and looked at and smelt the contents of the jar. "It is black," he said. "I suppose that it has to be black." "It has a strange smell." "Probably because the old sibyl uses plants that are unknown to us." "How hard it is!" "You must warm it a little before using; then it becomes more ductile." "No matter; I mean to put some of it on my head at once." "What! here, in the office? You had better put it on at home." "No! there are only we two in the office as yet, and I do not want to postpone making use of it." "You don't imagine, I suppose, that your hair will grow instantly? You must give the stuff time to act on the capillary tissues." "Very good; but the sooner I put some of it on my head, the sooner the hair will grow.--By the way, is there any particular way of using it?" Bahuchet reflected a few moments, then replied: "Yes; wait till I recall the old witch's instructions.--Ah! now I have it: first heat the pomade, then rub your skull with it, put on a good lot; then you must cover it with a small round piece of linen, cotton, or woollen stuff--the material is not important; you must simply be sure that the pomaded part is well covered. Then, in a few days you will see your hair!" "Very well! I will follow your instructions to the letter; I will warm it on the stove. But what in the devil shall I put on my head to cover the pomade?" "See--there's an old black woollen stocking that Maître Bourdinard's servant must have left here by mistake; you can cut a cap out of that." "Faith! you are right; I shall look like a little abbé. Come, let us set to work!" Bahuchet cut from the stocking a round piece large enough to cover the top of Plumard's head; meanwhile, the latter daubed his head with the mixture, which the heat had melted; he noticed with surprise that he could not free his fingers from the pomade after he had used it; but Bahuchet told him that that was a proof of the virtue of the cosmetic. At last, the clerk's head being sufficiently pomaded, the piece of woollen stocking was applied, and the operation was at an end. The clerk then covered his head with the cap which he hardly ever laid aside. The next morning, young Plumard put his hand to his head to make sure that his plaster was still firm. As he passed his fingers over it, he felt a sort of crust, but the woollen covering did not stir, and the clerk was convinced that the process of growing was under way. A week passed. Plumard had tried, but to no purpose, to remove the piece of woollen stocking that covered his head. "Let it alone, for heaven's sake!" said Bahuchet; "if it sticks, it must be that the work is going on; when the hair has grown a little, your skullcap will fall off of itself."