"Yes, it was really a sacrifice on my part, M. Rodolph, for I was always looking forward with delight to my Sundays, and I was very much tried by being kept in all alone in such beautiful weather. But that's nothing. I preferred sacrificing my Sundays to hearing M. Cabrion continue to make ridicule of those whom I respected. Certainly, after that, but for the idea I attached to them, I should have preferred giving my birds other names; and, you must know, there is one name which I adore,--it is Colibri.[1] I did not change, because I never will call those birds by any other name than Cretu and Ramonette; if I did, I should seem to make a sacrifice, that I forgot my good, adopted parents,--don't you think so, M. Rodolph?" [1] Colibri is a celebrated chanson of Beranger, the especial poet of grisettes.--_English Translator_. "You are right a thousand times over. And Germain did not turn these names into a jest, eh?" "On the contrary, the first time he heard them he thought them droll, like every one else, and that was natural enough. But when I explained to him my reasons, as I had many times explained them to M. Cabrion, tears started to his eyes. From that time I said to myself, M. Germain is very kind-hearted, and there is nothing to be said against him, but his weeping so. And so, you see, M. Rodolph, my reproaching him with his sadness has made me unhappy now. Then I could not understand why any one was melancholy, but now I understand it but too well. But now my packet is completed, and my work is ready for delivery. Will you hand me my shawl, neighbour? It is not cold enough to take a cloak, is it?" "We shall go and return in a coach." "True; we shall go and return very quickly, and that will be so much gained." "But, now I think of it, what are you to do? Your work will suffer from your visits to the prison." "Oh, no, no; I have made my calculations. In the first place, I have my Sundays to myself, so I shall go and see Louise and Germain on those days; that will serve me for a walk and a change. Then, in the week, I shall go again to the prison once or twice. Each time will occupy me three good hours, won't it? Well, to manage this comfortably, I shall work an hour more every day, and go to bed at twelve o'clock instead of eleven o'clock; that will be a clear gain of seven or eight hours a week, which I can employ in going to see Louise and Germain. You see I am richer than I appear," added Rigolette, with a smile. "And you have no fear that you will be overfatigued?" "Bah! Not at all; I shall manage it. And, besides, it can't last for ever." "Here is your shawl, neighbour." "Fasten it; and mind you don't prick me." "Ah, the pin is bent." "Well, then, clumsy, take another then,--from the pincushion. Ah, I forgot! Will you do me a great favour, neighbour?" "Command me, neighbour."