with the goose; she fetched them, and
all the glasses were filled. Then Poisson rose, and holding his glass in
the air, said:

"I drink to the health of the missus."

All of them stood up, making a great noise with their chairs as they
moved. Holding out their arms, they clinked glasses in the midst of an
immense uproar.

"Here's to this day fifty years hence!" cried Virginie.

"No, no," replied Gervaise, deeply moved and smiling; "I shall be too
old. Ah! a day comes when one's glad to go."

Through the door, which was wide open, the neighborhood was looking on
and taking part in the festivities. Passers-by stopped in the broad ray
of light which shone over the pavement, and laughed heartily at seeing
all these people stuffing away so jovially.

The aroma from the roasted goose brought joy to the whole street. The
clerks on the sidewalk opposite thought they could almost taste the
bird. Others came out frequently to stand in front of their shops,
sniffing the air and licking their lips. The little jeweler was unable
to work, dizzy from having counted so many bottles. He seemed to have
lost his head among his merry little cuckoo clocks.

Yes, the neighbors were devoured with envy, as Coupeau said. But why
should there be any secret made about the matter? The party, now fairly
launched, was no longer ashamed of being seen at table; on the contrary,
it felt flattered and excited at seeing the crowd gathered there, gaping
with gluttony; it would have liked to have knocked out the shop-front
and dragged the table into the road-way, and there to have enjoyed the
dessert under the very nose of the public, and amidst the commotion of
the thoroughfare. Nothing disgusting was to be seen in them, was there?
Then there was no need to shut themselves in like selfish people.
Coupeau, noticing the little clockmaker looked very thirsty, held up a
bottle; and as the other nodded his head, he carried him the bottle
and a glass. A fraternity was established in the street. They drank to
anyone who passed. They called in any chaps who looked the right sort.
The feast spread, extending from one to another, to the degree that the
entire neighborhood of the Goutte-d'Or sniffed the grub, and held its
stomach, amidst a rumpus worthy of the devil and all his demons. For
some minutes, Madame Vigouroux, the charcoal-dealer, had been passing to
and fro before the door.

"Hi! Madame Vigouroux! Madame Vigouroux!" yelled the party.

She ente