The World’s Wit and Humor: An Encyclopedia in 15 Volumes. 1906.
Henri Murger (18221861)An Evening Reception
T
P. S. We only live once!
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8
8.30
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9.30
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12.30
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6
The ventilators will be open during the whole of the reception.
As the clock struck six the friends went out for a hasty dinner, and then came back to light up. They were themselves dazzled by the result. At seven o’clock Schaunard arrived with three ladies, who had left their diamonds and their hats at home. One of them wore a red shawl with black spots on it. Schaunard particularly called Rodolphe’s attention to this person.
“She comes of a very good family,” he explained. “She is an Englishwoman. The fall of the Stuarts compelled her to take refuge in exile, and she now lives very quietly, giving English lessons. I understand from her that her father was lord chancellor under Cromwell. She must be treated politely; do not be too free-and-easy with her.”
The sound of many footsteps came up from the staircase. The guests were arriving, and saw, to their astonishment, that a fire was burning in the stove.
Rodolphe’s black dress coat was well to the fore. He kissed the hands of the ladies as they entered with all the grace of the bygone days of the Regency. When a score or so of visitors had arrived, Schaunard asked whether refreshments were not going to be handed round.
“Yes, in a moment,” said Marcel; “we are awaiting the arrival of the influential critic before warming the punch.”
At eight o’clock the room was full, and the program was proceeded with. Refreshments of some kind (what they were nobody ever knew precisely) were handed round during every interval. It was nearly ten o’clock before the white waistcoat of the influential critic appeared upon the scene, but he only stayed an hour, and was very moderate in his potations.
At midnight, as all the firewood was burnt up, and the temperature was very low, those of the guests who had chairs drew lots as to who should convert his seat into fuel.
At one o’clock everybody was standing.
The evening passed off without regrettable incidents of any kind, unless we except a rent made in the foreign-language pocket of Colline’s coat, and a box on the ear administered by Schaunard to the daughter of Cromwell’s chancellor.
This memorable reception was the talk of the Quarter for a week afterward, and Phémie Teinturière, the queen of the evening, used to say, when she told her friends about it, “It was tremendously grand; such a lighting up of candles as we had, my dear!”