But Poirson retorted that there were hares and hares; that the comparison which M. Scribe made of his, to a patriarch and to Nestor, elevated it in the eyes of all cultured people, whilst the horrible play of words we had allowed ourselves by opposing the word lièvre to lapin was in the worst possible taste, and would not even be tolerated by a théâtre de boulevard. I innocently asked if the Gymnase was not a boulevard theatre; and now it was Rousseau's turn to pay me out: he was very angry with me, as he looked upon my passage as the cause of our rejection.
"You must learn, my dear friend, that there are boulevards and boulevards, just as there are hares and hares."
I was immensely surprised; I had never made any distinction between hares, other than in dividing them into hares tender and hares tough; or, in the matter of boulevards, beyond in summer preferring those that were shadiest to those that were sunniest, and in winter those that were sunny to those in the shade. I was mistaken: hares and boulevards had degrees of rank.
We parted, after arranging a meeting for that night. Lassagne noticed that I was cast down, and was most sympathetic towards me. When Ernest's back was turned, he said—
"Never mind, my dear friend, we will write a play together."
"Do you really mean it?" I cried, leaping for joy.
"Hush!" he said; "don't go dancing like that in the passages and bellowing in the office."
"Oh, don't be anxious!"
"I read your ode to General Foy; it is crude, but it contains several excellent lines, and two or three good metaphors. I will help you to succeed."
"Oh, thank you, thank you!"