ner hours are spent rapidly, bustling and idling,
and herein lies a certain advantage. After a late breakfast, one does
not need to dine, but can sup at the ball, which fills up nearly every
evening. These ladies also give evening parties. Tea is drunk out of
all kinds of queer receptacles, goblets, old tankards, ancient glasses,
Japanese shells, the whole chipped and cracked by the constant moves.

[Illustration: p138-149]

The serene calm of both mother and daughters in the midst of this
poverty is truly admirable. They have indeed other ideas running through
the brain than mere housekeeping details. One has plaited her hair
like a Swiss girl, another is curled like any English baby, and Madame
Simaise, from the top of her hammock, lives in the beatitude of her
former beauty. As for father Simaise, he is always delighted. As long
as he hears the merry laugh of his daughters around him, he is ready
cheerfully to assume all the weight of this disorderly existence. To him
are addressed in a coaxing manner such requests as: "Papa, I want a
bonnet. Papa, I must have a dress." Sometimes the winter is severe. They
are in such request, receive so many invitations. Pooh! the father has
but to get up a couple of hours earlier. They will have a fire only in
the studio, where all the family will gather. The girls will cut out and
make their own dresses, while the hammock ropes swing slowly to and fro,
and the father works on, perched upon his high stool.

[Illustration: p139-150]

Have you ever met these ladies in society? The moment they appear there
is a commotion. It is long since the first two came out, but they are
always so well adorned and so smart, that they are in great request as
partners. They have as much success as the younger sisters, almost as
much as the mother in former days; moreover they carry off their tawdry
jewelry and finery so well, and have such charming easy manners, with
the giddy laugh of spoilt children, and such a Spanish way of flirting
with a fan. Nevertheless they do not get married. No admirer has ever
been able to get over the sight of that singular home. The wasteful and
useless extravagance, the want of plates, the profusion of old tapestry
in holes, of antique and ungilt lustres, the draughty doors, the
constant visits of creditors, the slatternly appearance of the young
ladies in slipshod slippers and dressing gowns, put to flight the best
intentioned. In truth, it is not everyone who cou