A BOHEMIAN BONANZA.

Mt Benger Mail, Volume I, Issue 44, 2 March 1881, Page 7

A BOHEMIAN BONANZA.

Schaunard and Marcel, who had been at work since morning, suddenly stopped. "Gods! but I am hungry," said Schaunard; and he added carelessly, " Don't we breakfast some time to-day V Marcel showed great attonishment at this question. 11 Since when have we breakfasted two days in succession ?" said he. " Yesterday was Thursday," and he finished his response by designation with his maul stick that commandment of the Church which refers to meat on Fridav,

Schaunard found nothing to say to that, and set to work agaiu at his pictnre which represented a plain on which a red tree and a blue tree were clasping branches—being a transparent allusion to the charms of friendship, from a very philosophical standpoint. Just then the porter knocked at the door. He brought a letter for Marcel. " Three sous to collect," said he.

" Are you sure V' replied the artist. " All right, we will owe them to you," and he shut the door in his face. Marcel took the letter aud broke the seal. At the first words he put himself to capering about the studio in an acrobatic dance, singing, at the top of his voice, a popular students' song of the day, which indicated with him the very apex of joy. " Look here," said Schaunard, feeling already symptoms of mental alienation, " if you don't dry up, I'll play the allegro of my symphony on the inliuence of blue in the arts," and he went to the piano.

This threat produced the effect of a drop of cold water falling into a boiling liquid, calming Marcel as by enchantment.

" Read that," said he, passing the letter to his friend. It was an invitation to dinner from a deputy—patron ol the arts in general, and of Marcel in particular, who had painted the portrait of his country house.

"It is for to-day," said Schaunard. " What a pity that the ticket isn't <?ood for two. But, come to think of it, your deputy supports the Ministry. You can't; you ought not to accept it. Your principles forbid you eating bread soaked in the sweat of the people." u Bah !" said Marcel; "my deputy belongs to the left centre, and voted against the Government the other day. Besides, he is going to give mean order, and has promised to introduce me in society. And then, you see, it is Friday, and I am hungry enough to eat a raw dog, and I must cline," " There are yet other obstacles, replied Schaunard, a little jealous of the good fortune which had befallen his friend. " You can't go to a swell dinner in a red blouse and a 'longshoreman's hat." " I will borrow some clothes of Rodolphe or Colline." " Bah ! Have you forgotten that we have passed the twentieth of the month, and that at that epoch the clothes of those gentlemen are spouted!" " I will, at least, find a black coat somewhere about here by five o'clock," said Marcel. "It took me three weeks to find one when I went to my cousin's wedding, and that was early in January." " Well, I will go as I am," replied Marcel, striding across the room. "It : shall never be said that a miserable i question of etiquette prevented my tak- ' ing my first step in society." " Good," said Schaunard, taking much pleasure in the chagrin of his friend; " but what about your boots ?" Marcel went out in a state ofagitation ' impossible to describe. Toward two o'clock he returned, loaded down with a paper collar.

" That is all I can find," cried he piteously.

" It was hardly worth while running about for that," responded Schaunard. " We have paper enough here to make a dozen cellars."

(i The devil!" said Marcel, tearing his hair; "we ought to have some of. fects between us," and he commenced a long research in all the corners of the two chambers. After an hour's hunting, he realised a costume composed as follows:

One pair of plaid trousers. One gray hat One red cravat. One glove originally white. One black glove. " That will make two black gloves at a pinch/' said Schaunard. " But when you are dressed you will look like the solar spectrum. But what of that ! You are a colourist."

Meantime, Marcel tried the boots. Cursed fatality ! They were both for the sume foot. The despairing artist then spied in a corner an old boot in which they put their brushes, and possessed himself of it.

" Like Garrick in fyllabe" said his ironical companion. " This one pointed, and the other is square." "Nobody will notice that. I will varnish them."

Good enough ! All you want now is the regulation black coat." There came another knock at the door. Marcel opened it. "I wish to see Monsieur Schaunard," the new comer.

" That's me," replied the painter, begging him to enter.

" Monsieur," said the unknown bearer of one of those honest faces which are the type of the countryman, " my cousin has talked a great deal of your talent for painting portraits, and being about to make a vovage to the other colonies, where I am delegated by the sugar-refiners of the city of Nantes, I wish to leave a remembrance of myself with my family. That is why I come to find vou."

" Holy Providence !" murmured Schaunard. "Marcel give a chair to

Monsieur—"

" Blancheron," replied the stranger; " Blancheron of Nantes, delegate of the sugar industry, former mayor of V ——, captain in the National Guard, and author of a pamphlet on the sugar question."

I "I am very much honored to have | been selected by you," said the artist, j inclining himself before the delegate of • refiners. How do you wish to have ' your portrait?" I "In miniature, like that," replied I Monsieui iiiancheron, indicating a portrait in oils ; because, for the delegate as for many others, that which is not house-painting is miniature ; there is nothing between. This simplicity gave Schaunard the measure of the man; above all, when he added that he desired his portrait painted with the finest colors. " I never use any others," said Schaunard. llow large would Monsieur like his portrait ?" " As big as that," replied Monsieur Blancheron, designating a portrait. " But how high does that come V' " From fifty to sixty francs ; fifty without the hands, sixty with—" " The devil! my cousin talked about thirty." " That is according to the season," said the painter; " the colors are higher at different seasons of the year." " What, just like sugar ?" " Exactly."

" Go ahead, then, for fifty francs." " You're wrong; for ten francs more, I would put in the hands, in which I would place your pamphlet on the sugar question which would be flattering." " B'gosh you are right."

"Ye gods !" said Schaunard to himself, "if he continues 1 shall explode, and wound him with the pieces," " Have you remarked 1" hissed Marcel in his ear. " What V' " He has on a black coat." " I understand, and I have your idea. Leave me alone.

Well, monsieur," said the delegate when shall we commence ? It must not be detailed, for I sail shortly."

" I have a little journey to make myself; I leave Paris day after tomorrow, so, if you like, we will commence at once. A good sitting will advance the work."

" But it will soon be dark, and you can't paint by candlelight," said Monsieur Blancheron.

" My studio is so arranged that I can work at all hours," replied the painter; "so, if you will take off'your coat, and assume the pose we will commence,"

" What do you want me to take off my coat for V' " Didn't you say that you wanted this Dortrait for your family ?" " Yes." b " Well, then, you ought to be reprei sented in your home costume, in your j dressing gown. Besides, that is the ! custom." " But I have no dressing-gown , with me." " But I have. The case is fovseeo," 5 said Schaunard, presenting to his i model a ragged jacket, historic with • paint stains, which made the honest countryman hesitate at i " This is a very singular garment," i said he. " And very precious, responded the painter. " A Turkish vizier pre* sented it to Hoarce Vernet, who gave it to me. I am a pupil of his." "You are a pupil of Vernet?" said Blancheron. " Yes monsieur, I can boast of that. Horrors!" murmured he to himself, " I am denying my gods." " That is worth mentioning, young man," replied the delegate, in putting on the dressing-gown which had such a noble origin. " Hang the gentleman's coat in the wardrobe," said Schaunard to his friend, with a significant wink. " I say," murmured Marcel, in leaping into his prey, and designating Blancheron, " some style about him. If we could only keep a little of him." "I will try ; but dress quickly and run. Get back here by ten o'clock and I'll keep him till then. Aud don't you forget to bring mo something in your pocket." "I will bring a pine-apple," said Marcel, going out. He dressed himself hurriedly. The coat fited like a glove, and he went out by the other door. Schaunard put himself to work. As it grew dark, Monsieur Blancheron heard six o'clock strike, and remembered that he had not dined. He so remarked to the painter. " I am in the same fix ; but to oblige you I will let it go to-night although I was invited to dine in the Faubourg Saint-Germain," said Schaunard. " But we can't disturb ourselves ; that would compromise the resemblance." He turned to his work. " However," said he carelessly, " we could dine here without disturbing ourselves. There is an excellent restaurant downstairs, and they could send up whatever we wanted." And Schaunard waited the effects of his trio or plurals. "An excellent idea," said Monsieur Blancheron ; " and, in return for the suggestion, would you do me the honor of keeping me company at table ?" Schaunard bowed. "Hurrah !" said he to himself, " this is a man worth knowing; a veritable envoy of Providence. Will you select I the bill of fare he asked. | " You will oblige me by doing it yourself," said Blancheron. " You will repent of it, Nicholas," sung the painter, as he descended the '< stairs for a time. He entered the restaurant, stood up < at the counter, and dictated a bill of ' fare which made the Yatel of the shop < turn pale. ! " Some ordinary Bordeaux." » " Who is going to pay ?" 1 "Not I, probably," said Schaunard, J " but an uncle of minp, whom you will < see up-stairs—a great epicure. So try I to distinguish yourself. And we will 1 be served in half an hour, and in 1 porcelain—do you understand ' At eight o'clock, Monsieur Blanche- 1 ron felt the desire to pour into the 1 bosom of a friend his ideas on the sugar ; question, and he recited to Schaunard i the pamphlet which he had written. < Schaunard accompanied him on the f piano. At ten o'clock Monsieur Blancheron 1 and his friend danced a gallop, and '< called each other endearing names. 1 At eleven o'clock they swore never I to part, and made their wills, each 1 leaving the other his fortune. ; At midnight Marcel returned, and ( found them in each other's arms dis- i solved in tears. There was already half i an inch of water in the studio. Marcel ran against the table, and saw the i splendid debris of a superb repast. He I

examined the bottles;. they wef-e perfectly empty. He tried to u waken Schaunard, but he threatened to kill him if he should take from his Monsieur Blancheron, of whom he had made a pillow. " Ingrate !' said Marcel, pulling out of his pocket a handful of nuts; " this to one who had brought you your dinner."—' San Francisco Argonaut.'