, the gold of a bubbling brain, lasting an hour. After
this there is always something evil to one's head, and mine, alas! was
shaved.

Half an hour after I had read the letter, the little paper-flower
makers in the attic window across from mine may have seen me shaving
it--without pleasure--again. What else was I to do? I could not
well expect to be given the guardianship of an erring young man if I
presented myself to his parent as a gentleman who had been sitting at
the Cafe' de la Paix with his head painted. I could not wear my hat
through the interview. I could not exhibit the thick five days' stubble,
to appear in contrast with the heavy fringe that had been spared;--I
could not trim the fringe to the shortness of the stubble; I should
have looked like Pierrot. I had only, then, to remain bald, and, if
I obtained the post, to shave in secret--a harmless and mournful
imposition.

It was well for me that I came to this determination. I believe it was
the appearance of maturity which my head and dining upon thoughts lent
me, as much as my friend's praises, which created my success with the
amiable Mr. Lambert R. Poor. I witness that my visit to him provided
one of the most astonishing interviews of my life. He was an instance of
those strange beings of the Western republic, at whom we are perhaps too
prone to pass from one of ourselves to another the secret smile, because
of some little imperfections of manner. It is a type which has grown
more and more familiar to us, yet never less strange: the man in costly
but severe costume, big, with a necessary great waistcoat, not noticing
the loudness of his own voice; as ignorant of the thousand tiny things
which we observe and feel as he would be careless of them (except for
his wife) if he knew. We laugh at him, sometimes even to his face, and
he does not perceive it. We are a little afraid that he is too large
to see it; hence too large for us to comprehend, and in spite of our
laughter we are always conscious of a force--yes, of a presence! We jeer
slyly, but we respect, fear a little, and would trust.

Such was my patron. He met me with a kind greeting, looked at me very
earnestly, but smiling as if he understood my good intentions, as one
understands the friendliness of a capering poodle, yet in such a way
that I could not feel resentment, for I could see that he looked at
almost everyone in the same fashion.

My friend had done wonders for me; and I made the best