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Updated: June 23, 2025


Excess of zeal ruins peach-trees and apricot-trees. Excess of zeal kills the grace and the mirth of good dinners. No zeal, gentlemen! Grimod de la Reyniere agrees with Talleyrand." A hollow sound of rebellion rumbled through the group. "Leave us in peace, Tholomyes," said Blachevelle. "Down with the tyrant!" said Fameuil. "Bombarda, Bombance, and Bambochel!" cried Listolier.

At the same moment Blachevelle, supported by Listolier and Fameuil, struck up to a plaintive air, one of those studio songs composed of the first words which come to hand, rhymed richly and not at all, as destitute of sense as the gesture of the tree and the sound of the wind, which have their birth in the vapor of pipes, and are dissipated and take their flight with them.

"It makes me in love with him. No sooner is he gone than he is loved. This is an adventure, indeed." "No," said Dahlia; "it was one of Tholomyes' ideas. That is evident. "In that case," retorted Favourite, "death to Blachevelle, and long live Tholomyes!" "Long live Tholomyes!" exclaimed Dahlia and Zephine. And they burst out laughing. Fantine laughed with the rest.

You have the air of a pretty face upon which some one has sat down by mistake. As for Favourite, O nymphs and muses! one day when Blachevelle was crossing the gutter in the Rue Guerin-Boisseau, he espied a beautiful girl with white stockings well drawn up, which displayed her legs. This prologue pleased him, and Blachevelle fell in love. The one he loved was Favourite.

Favourite paused, and then went on: "I am sad, you see, Dahlia. It has done nothing but rain all summer; the wind irritates me; the wind does not abate. Blachevelle is very stingy; there are hardly any green peas in the market; one does not know what to eat.

If you were to cease to love me, I would spring after you, I would scratch you, I should rend you, I would throw you into the water, I would have you arrested." Blachevelle smiled with the voluptuous self-conceit of a man who is tickled in his self-love. Favourite resumed: "Yes, I would scream to the police! Ah! I should not restrain myself, not at all! Rabble!"

At that moment Favourite, folding her arms and throwing her head back, looked resolutely at Tholomyes and said: "Come, now! the surprise?" "Exactly. The moment has arrived," replied Tholomyes. "Gentlemen, the hour for giving these ladies a surprise has struck. Wait for us a moment, ladies." "It begins with a kiss," said Blachevelle. "On the brow," added Tholomyes.

"I prefer a woman," said Listolier. "Woman," resumed Tholomyes; "distrust her. Woe to him who yields himself to the unstable heart of woman! Woman is perfidious and disingenuous. She detests the serpent from professional jealousy. The serpent is the shop over the way." "Tholomyes!" cried Blachevelle, "you are drunk!" "Pardieu," said Tholomyes. "Then be gay," resumed Blachevelle.

We bear you no grudge for that. "Signed: BLACHEVELLE. FAMUEIL. LISTOLIER. FELIX THOLOMYES. "Postscriptum. The dinner is paid for." The four young women looked at each other. Favourite was the first to break the silence. "Well!" she exclaimed, "it's a very pretty farce, all the same." "It is very droll," said Zephine. "That must have been Blachevelle's idea," resumed Favourite.

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