barrier which completely separates the Café
below from the Cercle above— the boundary
between Olympus and common earth. We are
not proud, sir, nor exclusive; we only wish to
keep ourselves to ourselves. Among ourselves,
we are quite willing to carry out equality and
fraternity.

Our staircase then, surmounted by a door half
of glass, by way of welcome to the privileged,
is easy enough to climb— when you haven't
been black-balled. But on quitting our room to
regain your domicile, it presents itself to your
astonished view literally as " a flight" of steps.
You might spread your wings, launch out into
air, and so descend it, like Icarus. Except for
its imposing loftiness, it might serve as an issue
from a bathing-machine into the open sea. The
breadth of its stairs has been regulated in
accordance with the strictest economy of wood.
Its angle of inclination may be estimated at
something between forty-five degrees and the
perpendicular, closely approximating to the
latter. I don't think it is on the wrong side of
the perpendicular. None but envious black-
balled lips would venture to make that
questionable assertion. Certainly, on standing at
the top, and looking down, some people fancy
they are seized with giddiness, with a swimming
in the head; they prate about cliffs, church
steeples, and precipices. It is only the influence
of the genius loci, the magnetic effect of this
favoured spot.

At first, one or two members who were
delighted with everything else, used to exclaim in
less satisfied tones, " The Staircase!" True,
they are no longer in their teens. Without
scandal, they have grey beards, and their faces
are a little wrinkled. I began to fear that some
special mechanism would have to be invented
—some nice combination of inclined planes and
pulleys— to accomplish the transfer of those
two members from the elevation of the first
floor down to level ground. A bright thought
of mine, sir, enabled our common purse to
avoid that outlay.

"How do you get down stairs at the Cercle?"
asked one of the two, confidentially, during a
walk on the road which is Petitbourg's favourite
promenade. " I manage to get up, and not too
slowly; but I am always afraid of going down
too quickly."

Smiling triumphantly, I answered, " Thus!"
accompanying the word by the action of walking
backwards. " You know what it is, monsieur,
to go up a ladder; you also know what
it is to go down a ladder. Apply the same
principle to our staircase. Grasp the rail with
your hand, step down backwards, and the
difficulty is completely conquered."

"Capital! You are a genius, Monsieur
Vealson; I will try your plan at the first
opportunity. I wonder I never thought of it
before."

Accordingly, that very evening, my friend
mounted at his usual pace, with the firm intention
(which he successfully carried out) of testing
by experiment the mode of descent I had
indicated. We were already several in number,
and were commencing a discussion on things in
general, when Dr. Legrand broke out with
unusual gaiety: " The people of Petitbourg stop
too much at home; they do not mix and meet
together often enough. Each one, like a wolf,
keeps to his own den exclusively. We must
try to improve this state of things. We must
inaugurate the reopening of our Cercle by a
social meeting of corresponding import. Have
you seen this proposal, Monsieur Vealson?
No? The Cercle is thinking of supping
together."

"Good, for the supper," I replied. " On
what day? At what o'clock?"

"The day is mentioned here; and as to the
hour, six or seven, perhaps. We can keep it up
till ten— eleven— or midnight. Who knows?"

A second profound remark, sir, to which I
would direct your attention is, that one half of
the world doesn't know how the other half
lives. A profounder still would be — if I might
presume to make it— that three quarters of the
world do not know how the other quarter sups.
I am sure, sir, that you don't know how we
supped at that our inauguration supper; I
therefore inform you. At the first time of asking,
we didn't sup at all.

On the evening when Dr. Legrand informed
me of the scheme, there lay on our card-table a
preliminary protocol, covered with autographs
sown broadcast, as you would scatter a
handful of peas, inviting subscription to a
Souper, at five francs per head, for Monday the
fifth of December last: the hour left open, the
bill of fare likewise, the stewards and caterers
unappointed. At a preparatory conference a
few days previous, truffled pigs' feet had been
agreed to unanimously— exactly as plum-pudding
would be named in England for Christmas-
day— but nothing more. What is everybody's
business is nobody's business. Truffled
pigs' feet had set the first step towards our
supper; not being followed up, they could
proceed no further. The feast of reason and
the flow of soul were deferred to a more
propitious date.

A second prospectus appeared on the board of
green cloth, for Tuesday the thirteenth, without
fail, positively, sans aucune remise, again at five
francs, but per mouth, with du pain et du plaisir
—bread and badinage— at discretion. The
honour of the Cercle was at stake. This
ambrosial meeting must not fall to the ground.

After a serious deliberation, a plenipotentiary,
with precise instructions which he was not to
overstep, was appointed to purchase the material
requisites. On no account whatever were the
five francs per mouth to be exceeded. It might
prevent our recommencing the game; and we
preferred supping twice to supping once. Our
financial estimates stood thus. Capital:
Sixteen mouths, at five francs each, give eighty
francs; exactly three pounds four shillings
sterling. Please, sir, note the prodigality of the
sum allotted to sup sixteen hearty men, some of
them with agricultural appetites.