Part 40 (2/2)

”The stalls, too, are empty.”

”Well, when they see her name on the bill, it acts on the house like an air pump.”

”Hence, what an idea to put up the price of the seats!”

”A fine benefit. I will bet that the takings would not fill a money box or the foot of a stocking.”

”Ah! There she is in her famous red velvet costume.”

”She looks like a lobster.”

”How much did you make out of your last benefit?” said another actress to her companion.

”The house was full, my dear, and it was a first night; chairs in the gangway were worth a louis. But I only got six francs; my milliner had all the rest. If I was not afraid of chilblains, I would go to Saint Petersburg.”

”What, you are not yet thirty, and are already thinking of doing your Russia?”

”What would you have?” said the other, and she added, ”and you, is your benefit soon coming on?”

”In a fortnight, I have already three thousand francs worth of tickets taken, without counting my young fellows from Saint Cyr.”

”Hallo, the stalls are going out.”

”It is because Dolores is singing.”

In fact, Dolores, as red in the face as her costume, was warbling her verses with a vinegary voice. Just as she was getting though it with difficulty, two bouquets fell at her feet, thrown by two actresses, her dear friends, who advanced to the front of their box, exclaiming--:

”Bravo, Dolores!”

The fury of the latter may be readily imagined. Thus, on returning home, although it was the middle of the night, she opened the window and woke up Coco, who woke up the honest Mr. Birne, who had dropped off to sleep on the faith of her promise.

From that day war was declared between the actress and the Englishman; a war to the knife, without truce or repose, the parties engaged in which recoiled before no expense or trouble. The parrot took finis.h.i.+ng lessons in English and abused his neighbor all day in it, and in his shrillest falsetto. It was something awful. Dolores suffered from it herself, but she hoped that one day or other Mr. Birne would give warning. It was on that she had set her heart. The Englishman, on his part, began by establis.h.i.+ng a school of drummers in his drawing room, but the police interfered. He then set up a pistol gallery; his servants riddled fifty cards a day. Again the commissary of police interposed, showing him an article in the munic.i.p.al code, which forbids the usage of firearms indoors. Mr. Birne stopped firing, but a week after, Dolores found it was raining in her room. The landlord went to visit Mr. Birne, and found him taking salt.w.a.ter baths in his drawing room. This room, which was very large, had been lined all round with sheets of metal, and had had all the doors fastened up. Into this extempore pond some hundred pails of water were poured, and a few tons of salt were added to them. It was a small edition of the sea. Nothing was lacking, not even fishes. Mr.

Birne bathed there everyday, descending into it by an opening made in the upper panel of the center door. Before long an ancient and fish-like smell pervaded the neighborhood, and Dolores had half an inch of water in her bedroom.

The landlord grew furious and threatened Mr. Birne with an action for damages done to his property.

”Have I not a right,” asked the Englishman, ”to bathe in my rooms?”

”Not in that way, sir.”

”Very well, if I have no right to, I won't,” said the Briton, full of respect for the laws of the country in which he lived. ”It's a pity; I enjoyed it very much.”

That very night he had his ocean drained off. It was full time: there was already an oyster bed forming on the floor.

However, Mr. Birne had not given up the contest. He was only seeking some legal means of continuing his singular warfare, which was ”nuts” to all the Paris loungers, for the adventure had been blazed about in the lobbies of the theaters and other public places. Dolores felt equally bound to come triumphant out of the contest. Not a few bets were made upon it.

It was then that Mr. Birne thought of the piano as an instrument of warfare. It was not so bad an idea, the most disagreeable of instruments being well capable of contending against the most disagreeable of birds.

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