"Oh, he used to call a little box so, in which he put his collection of new songs; for he bought all the new ones, and knew them every one. When, then, there was nothing but bread in the house, he used to take an old cookery book from his library, and say to us, 'Well, now, let us see, what shall we eat to-day? This, or that?' And then he used to read out a long list of good things. Each of us chose a dish, and then Papa Crétu took an empty saucepan, and, with the funniest airs and gestures in the world, pretended to put into the saucepan all the ingredients requisite for making a capital stew; and then he used to pretend to pour it all out into a dish--also empty--which he placed on the table, with still the same drolleries, which almost split our sides. Then he took up his book again, and, whilst he was reading to us, for instance, the recipe of a good fricassée of chicken, which we had chosen, and which made our mouths water, we ate our bread, all laughing like so many mad people." "And, in this happy household, were there any debts to trouble them?" "None whatever. So long as the money lasted, they ate, drank, and made merry, and, when it was all gone, they lived upon 'make believe,' as before." "And did they never think of the future?" "Oh, yes, they thought of it, of course; but what is the future to such as we? Present and future are like Sunday and Monday; the one we spend gaily and happily outside the barriers, the other is got over in the faubourgs." "And why, since this couple seemed so well assorted, did they never marry?" "A friend of theirs once put that very question in my presence." "Well, and what did they say?" "'Oh,' said they, 'if ever we have any children, it may be all very well to marry, but as far as we are concerned, we do very well as we are. And why should we make an obligation of that which we now perform willingly? Besides, getting married costs money, and we have none to spare in unnecessary expenses.' But, my goodness," added Rigolette, "how I am running on. But, really, when once I begin to talk of these kind people, who were so good to me, I never know when to leave off. Here, neighbour, will you give me my shawl off the bed, and put it nicely over my shoulders, then pin it underneath the collar of my habit-shirt with this large pin, and then we will set off, for it will take us some time to select the different things you wish to buy for the poor Morels." Rodolph readily obeyed the directions of Rigolette. First he took from the bed a large plaid shawl, which he placed with all imaginable care on the well-formed shoulders of Rigolette. "That will do, neighbour. Now, lift up my collar, and press the shawl and dress together; then stick in the pin; but pray try not to prick me with it." The prince executed the orders given with zealous accuracy; then observed, smilingly, to the grisette: "Ah, Mlle. Rigolette, I should not like to be your _femme de chambre_; there is danger in it!"