of it when it
is built."

"And certainly yours is as charming a nest as the most fastidious bird
could desire."

"Yes, isn't it? for, as I say, I never refuse myself anything. Now, I
consider my chamber as above my means; in fact, too handsome for one
like me; then I have two birds; always, at least, two pots of flowers on
my mantelpiece, without reckoning those on the window-ledges; and yet,
as I told you, I had actually got three francs and a half in my
money-box, towards the ornaments I hoped some day to be able to buy for
my mantelpiece."

"And what became of this store?"

"Oh, why, lately, when I saw the poor Morels so very, very wretched, I
said to myself, 'What is the use of hoarding up these stupid pieces of
money, and letting them lie idle in a money-box, when good and honest
people are actually starving for want of them?' So I took out the three
francs, and lent them to Morel. When I say lent, I mean I told him I
only lent them, to spare his feelings; but, of course, I never meant to
have them back again."

"Yes, but my dear neighbour, you cannot refuse to let them repay you,
now they are so differently situated."

"Why, no; I think if Morel were to offer them to me now, I should not
refuse them; it will, at any rate, enable me to begin my store for
buying the chimney ornaments I do so long to possess. You would scarcely
believe how silly I am; but I almost dream of a beautiful clock, such a
one as I showed you just now, and two lovely vases, one on each side."

"But, then, you should think a little of the future."

"What future?"

"Suppose you were to be ill, for instance."

"Me ill? Oh, the idea!" And the fresh, hearty laugh of Rigolette
resounded through the street.

"Well, why should you not be?"

"Do I look like a person likely to be sick?"

"Certainly I never saw a more bright or blooming countenance."

"Well, then, what could possibly have put it into your head to talk such
nonsense as to suppose I could ever be ill?"

"Nay, but--"

"Why, I am only eighteen years of age, and, considering the sort of life
I lead, there is no chance of such a thing. I rise at five o'clock,
winter or summer; I am never up after ten, or, at latest, eleven; I eat
sufficient to satisfy my appetite, which certainly is not a very great
one; I do not suffer from exposure to cold; I work all day, singing as
merrily as a lark; and at night I sleep like a dormouse. My heart is
free, light, and happy. My employ