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January 1, 1885

The first of January! When one is not yet an uncle and no longer a godson, if one is in no governoes out very little, the number of one's calls on New Year's Day is limited I shall make five or six this afternoon It will be "Not at home" in each case; and that will be allI have received the compliments of the season My porter's wife came up just noreathed in sood health, and Heaven to end your days" She had just said the same to the tenants on the first, second, and third floors My ansas the same as theirs I slipped into her palm (with a "Many thanks!" of which she took no notice) a piece of gold, which brought another sone

This smile comes only once a year; it is not reproduced at any other period, but is a dividend payable in one instalment This, and a tear on All Souls' Day, when she has been to place a bunch of chrysantherave, are the only manifestations of sensibility that I have discovered in her From the second of January to the second of November she is a human creature tied to a bell-rope, with an immovably stolid face and a monosyllabic vocabulary in which politer ter, contrary to her habits, she has brought up by post two letters; one fronize the other Let's open it first: big envelope, ill-written address, Paris postmark Hallo! a smaller envelope inside, and on it: ANTOINE AND MARIE PLUMET

Poor souls! they have no visiting-cards But kind hearts are o little Madame Plumet, then still unmarried, was in a terrible bother I re, on a March day, at the corner of the Rue du Quatre-Septe quickly, with a bundle of papers under my arm, on my way back to the office where I was head clerk Suddenly a dressreat oilcloth-covered box into walk around it, when the little woman, red with haste and blushes, addressed me "Excuse me, sir, are you a lawyer?"

"No, Mademoiselle, not yet"

"Perhaps, sir, you know some lawyers?"