The Petty Troubles of Married Life, Complete

ather clearly marked by M. Charles Dupin. He felt that glory of some sort awaited

of vehicles, whether moral or material, and who rush upon the city one fine morning with the hydrophobic purpose of overturning everybody's reputation, and of building themselves a pedestal with the ruins they are to make,-u

am of paper, at a stationer's for twelve francs and a half, and in selling the two thousand sheets in the ream over again, for som

e rate of five sous a line-urges numerous families who might advantageously employ the

as the most famous author. He has always studied well, he writes very nice poetry, he is considered a fellow of parts: h

ulean labor: That a man must have explored every sphere of social life, to become a genuine novelist, inasmuch as the novel is the private history of nations: That the great story-tellers, Aesop, Lucia

t who don't read his articles, assumes a milder tone on seeing the powerlessness of his criticisms, offers novelettes to the papers which toss them from one to the other as if

is name cited among the names of celebrities, either in the prospectuses of the book-trade, or in the lists of newspapers about to appear. Publishers print the title of one of his works un

is a play which ha

s, but which is fina

ger or other feels

y passed from the l

journalism, and i

streets in sear

the theatres, thanks to some dirty work or certain articles of dramatic criticism: he tries to pass for a good fellow; and

that it smells of the pomatum of each prevailing and then forgotten fashion. To Adolphe it becomes what the famous cap, which he was constantly staking, w

pectable things, five or six tales published in the dismal magazines,

more or less literary salons: he bows to the five or six academicians who possess genius, influence or talent, he visits two or three of our great poets, he allows himself, in coffee-rooms, to call the two or three justly celebrated wo

d luck is nothing less than unyielding will, incessant labor, contempt for an easily won celebrity, immense lear

hty-six departments of France: but read these two letters which lately passed between two girls differently married, and you will see that it was as necessary as the narrative by which every true melodrama was until lately expected to open. You will d

iere, nee Jugault, to Madame Ado

VIE

in you. Don't you remember that the happier was to wri

ot ignorant what my lot would be: I live with the ex-president, my husband's uncle, and with my mother-in-law, who has preserved nothing of the ancient parliamentary society of Aix but its pride and its severity of manners.

ghty thousand francs,' says the associate judge, a young ma

quite sure

forth, he runs over the investments, the others discuss their value, and it is definitely

s accumulated sou by sou, in order, probably, that the whole city and those who expect legacies may applaud and exclaim in admiration, 'He leaves two hundred and eight

of fortune, the prospects of a vacancy

window in the rue St. Maclou, that turned and turned the circular cage in which they were i

re severely punished. I have bidden farewell to my dreams: I am Madame la Presidente in all my glory, and I resign myself to giving my arm for forty years to my big awkward Rouland

es, you whose only sin was pride, you,-at the age of twenty-seven, and with a dowry of two hundred thousand francs,-capture and c

ny good things are said, where the happy speeches which arrive out here like Congreve rockets, are first fired off. You go to the Baron Schinner's of whom Adolphe so often spoke to us, whom all the great artists and foreigners of celebrity visit. In short, before long, you will be one of the queens

and since you go to all the theatres without paying, since journalists are the heroes of all the inaugurations so ruinous for those who keep up with the movement of

ou one day, upon the summit of your grandeur, think of your poor Claire, write to me, tell me what a marriage with a great man is, describe those great Parisian ladies, es

RE JU

eille to Madame la Presidente

AR

, you never would have written it. Certainly no friend, and not even an enemy, on seeing a woman with a tho

llen upon me like a hail-storm, smoothes over the wounds in my self-love by so much affection, so many attentions, and such charming things, that, in good truth, women-so far as they are simply women-would be glad to find in the man they marry defects so advantageous. B

rty. Far from receiving twenty thousand francs a year, he has not earned that sum in the entire fifteen years that he has been at Paris. We occupy a third

enty thousand francs left me by my Aunt Carabas in giving security for a newspaper; on this we get nine per cent, and we have stock besides. Since this transaction, which was concluded some ten months ago, our income has doubled, and we now possess a compete

with celebrated men. I supposed that he was welcomed at her house as a friend: my husband presented me, and I was coldly received. I saw that her rooms were fur

e seven or eight illustrious men in France. I got ready my look of admiration, and I saw Adolphe rapturously doffing his hat to the truly great man, who replied by the curt little nod that you vouchsafe a person with

Cantal, George Beaunoir, Felix Verdoret, of whom you have never heard. Mesdames Constantine Ramachard, Anais Crottat, and Lucienne Vouillon threaten me with their blue friendshi

dolphe is an ordinary man, known, estimated as such: he has no other chance, as he himself says, than to take his place among the utilities

ised that I should be happy. He hopes, like numerous other ordinary men, to obtain some place, that of an assistant librarian, for i

er sex whom we like, and such is the brilliant style of li

r most famous critics, 'It takes Chodoreille to discover the Caroline poplar on the banks of the Rhone!' They had heard my husband call me by my Christian name. At Viviers I was considered

if you desire to learn how far my philosophy goes, understand that I am

f my delusions and the petty troubles of my life, am the most f

INE HE

ich you enjoy, will continue, thanks to your philosophy." Claire, as any intimate female friend would have