Full of curiosity she bent over the boy's shoulder, peered into the sketch, then threw up her hands in genuine admiration.
'Ah, but he was an artist, was monsieur! A true artist! It was delicious--ravishing!' She turned from one of her customers to the other.

'If monsieur would but put his name to this picture she would never again have the table washed; and in time to come, when he had made his big success--' "Good, madame! Good! When he has made his big success he will come back here and laugh and cry over this, and say, 'God be with the youth of us!' as we say in my old country.

Come, boy, put your name to it!" [Illustration: "WHY, BOY, THIS IS CLEVER--CLEVER--CLEVER!"] The boy glanced up at him.

His face was aglow, there were tears of emotion in his eyes.
"I can say nothing," he cried, "but that I--I have never been so happy in my life." And, bending over his sketch, he wrote across the marble-topped table a single word--the word 'Max.' The Frenchwoman bent over his shoulder.

"Max!" she murmured.