- fitte perfectly well. It was then in a great gloomy
building in the Rue St. Jacques. In less than fifteen minutes she was mounting the steps, and soon found herself in a large room, around which was an iron grating, and behind this grating were innumerable clerks at work.
Fifi went to the window nearest the door, and asked of a very alert-looking young clerk, at work at the desk:
"Will you be kind enough, Monsieur, to tell me where I can make a contribution to the fund for the soldiers' orphans?"
"Here, Madame," replied the young clerk, eying superciliously the little basket Fifi laid down on the ledge before him. People made all sorts of contributions to this fund, and the spruce young clerk had several times had his sensibilities outraged by offerings of old shoes, of assignats, even of a live cock. The basket before him looked as if it held a cat—probably one of the rare kind, which the old lady would propose that he should sell, and give the proceeds to the fund. Out of the basket the white-haired old lady with the green barége veil took a parcel, and laying it down, said humbly:
