But the dead genii were satisfied with little--a few violets, a cake dipped in wine, or a morsel of honeycomb.

Daily, from the time when his childish footsteps were still uncertain, had Marius taken them their portion of the family meal, at the second course, amidst the silence [11] of the company.

They loved those who brought them their sustenance; but, deprived of these services, would be heard wandering through the house, crying sorrowfully in the stillness of the night.
And those simple gifts, like other objects as trivial--bread, oil, wine, milk--had regained for him, by their use in such religious service, that poetic and as it were moral significance, which surely belongs to all the means of daily life, could we but break through the veil of our familiarity with things by no means vulgar in themselves.

A hymn followed, while the whole assembly stood with veiled faces.

The fire rose up readily from the altars, in clean, bright flame--a favourable omen, making it a duty to render the mirth of the evening complete.