“Voyez vous, privations and suffering were my lot, but I had in me the fire of youth. I had health, hope, unbounded confidence in myself, and ambition.
“Ah oui! It was a glorious time. I remember how I used to write for hours and hours in my bed; how everything was then fresh to me, how my inexperience made me look hopefully forward. Enfin, life seemed bright, beautiful, and cheerful.
“After all, I really think hope is a higher satisfaction than possession.
“But I stray from the subject.
“Let me see, you left me in bed trying to get warm, and waiting for someone to provide the necessary number of coppers for a dinner.
“In 1861, I at last found a sufficiently remunerative situation at Hachette’s, the publishers.
“I began at 200 francs a month. I did my work so thoroughly that I was soon raised. After a certain time I was placed in the advertising department, and there came in contact with the writers and newspaper men, who, in my first literary efforts, gave me a helping hand.
“During my stay in that office, I never ceased writing.
“You must know that I was all my life a very hard and conscientious worker.
“After my day’s work at the office, I used to read and write for hours at home by candlelight. In fact, the habit of writing at night became so inveterate that, long afterwards, when I had time in the day, I pulled down the blinds in my room and lit the lamp in order to work.