Je le sais; il poussait de l'herbe aux galeries;
Trente-six varietes de champignons malsains
Dans les loges tigraient la mousse des coussins."

It was impossible to say anything very spiteful of a theatre which had
remained almost empty during a gratuitous performance on the king's
birthday; consequently while I frequented the Quartier-Latin the
students gave it a wide berth. When they were not disporting themselves
at Bobino, they were at the Chaumiere, and not in the evening only.
Notwithstanding the enthusiastic and glowing descriptions of it that
have appeared in later days, the place was simple enough. There was a
primitive shooting-gallery, a skittle-alley, and so forth, and it was
open all day. The students, after having attended the lectures and taken
a stroll in the gardens of the Luxembourg, repaired to the Chaumiere,
where, in fine weather, they were sure to find their "lady-loves"
sitting at work demurely under the trees. The refreshments were cheap,
and one spent one's time until the dinner hour, chatting, singing, or
strolling about. The students were very clannish, and invariably
remained in their own sets at the Chaumiere. There were tables
exclusively occupied by Bourguignons, Angevins, etc. In fact, life was
altogether much simpler and more individual than it became later on.

One of our great treats was an excursion to the establishment of Le Pere
Bonvin, where the student of to-day would not condescend to sit down,
albeit that the food he gets in more showy places is not half as good
and three times as dear. Le Pere Bonvin was popularly supposed to be in
the country, though it was not more than a mile from the Barriere
Montparnasse. The "country" was represented by one or two large but
straggling plots of erstwhile grazing-lands, but at that time dotted
with chalk-pits, tumble-down wooden shanties, etc. Such trees as the
tract of "country" could boast were on the demesne of Pere Bonvin, but
they evidently felt out of their element, and looked the reverse of
flourishing. The house of Pere Bonvin was scarcely distinguished in
colour and ricketiness from the neighbouring constructions, but it was
built of stone, and had two stories. The fare was homely and genuine,
the latter quality being no small recommendation to an establishment
where the prolific "bunny" was the usual _plat de resistance_. For
sophistication, where the rabbit was concerned, was part of the suburban
traiteur's creed from time