The daily crescent. [volume] ([New Orleans, La.]) 1848-1851, 1848-10-16
Partisan Gossip.


FAsHIoNABLEs IN ExTREMITY.-One of the
most remarkable results of the revolution is the Gu
rious degree to which the memories of Parisians
have been refreshed as to the existence and where
abous of country cousins" distant relatives, and
aunts and uncles generally, provided they reside
out of Paris The dismal Observation-Disclosures Of the
city during the past summer, infected, with fever
rural, all the most elegant of the peren-
NAL metropolitans and their adventures in search
of agricultural hospitality form the staple of con-
versatiOn on the now reOccupied chairs OF the Au-
tumaal Boulevards. From a long and amusing re-
captuation of the gossip aaoat on this subject, we
pick feature or two.
dandy who had hithertoo been deaf TO the
summer invitations of hOspitable uncle, presented
himself at the country table of his relative very
early in the season.
ssTo what happy chance do we owe the honor
oEyour visit % asked in one breath, the aunt and
the uncle, " for did you not tell us over and over
again that you found summer enough in Paris and
could not be exiled willingly from its Injuries @
g Why-with whom can one be frank II not
with his relatives 2-dire necessity compelled me :!
80 That is to say, it is an empty purse to which
we are indebted for the pleasure! And you, OF
course Lad been obliged, previously, TO give upthe
costly superfluites of your brilliant existence {!
" Oh. by no means Not so bad as that yet l
have only been compelled to economist in the ne
cessities of existence. The uxuries will hold out
still Il little longer"
How! Explain, my dear Edmond"
g To a Partisan, nothing would be more simple.
Superluties are always within our control, be-
cause they are articles which we get upon easy
credit. Our necessities, on the contrary, are cash
articles My tailor, my coach-maker, my horse
dealer and uphOsterer, are most kInd-hearted peO-
pie who will wait as long as please for the catas
trophe Of payment ;.but those who deal in food and
lodging are Of less considerate dispositions. 1t Is
from these last hard hearted SaTacens that come
TO you my dear uncle, and for just the cOmmOdl-
ties which they require little respite before fur
nishing again.
Economy, in country as well as in city, is the
order of the day, however. A man of fashion, who
annually made the rounds of half dozen of luXu-
riOus chateau, thus Kidding his revenue of himself
for six months in the year, narrated his experiences
TO his friends in the following strain:
Slave of habit, which IS a second nature far
more imperative than the first, was in utter dis
NAV 40 the close of the winter-fnding myself
without a single one Ofmy usual invitations TO the
country. What was 10 become of me | could
not content myself to pass these six months in the
city | rebelled against the conviction that rural
hospitality extinct, or, at least, resolved to be
convinced Of it by my own personal experience and
observation.
g started, therefore, upon my usual tour, as If
the invitation had been neglected by chance, over
sight, or as if they had been given-determlned to
knock unsuspectingly at the doors between which l
was accustomed 10 divide my summer anu dulullll'
OF the two OF three first, which found with closed
windows, Theoretically sealed, and owners not at
home say nothing. There were others where l
was certain to be more fortunate. took my way
to the country seat of the ever hospltable Count de
B
g From a considerable distance, | could see the
front of the chateau, and upon the balcony esped
the count himself, who, noticing the approach of a
carriage, had a spy-glass levelled directly upon
my face.
'''Thank Heaven said I, there is one master of
a house. at least, who is at home And raising
my hat, | waved my handkerchief to the watcbtul
anticpator of my approach.
g drove on, and, reaching the porticO, OBJ
served that there was another travelling carriage
at the door. loaded with trunks. Good, thought
|, 'another arrival, and we shall have something
like society,"
''The count stopped my exit from the carriage,
by his eagerness to shake hands with me. Is 1t
possible, by any chance said he, that you are
here with the amiable intention of passing any
time with us 2
'' Certainly / answered, and will you be
kind enough to send of your people to the rail-
road station for the baggage which left there.
''' What a cOHtre-tempS = he exclaimed, am
really in despair And as for the countess nothing
will ever console her for the disappointment !
90 How do you mean 2 inquired little uneasy.
"'' You see that carriage at the door! 1t IS our
own, and we are at this moment starting on long
Journey
''' Yes screamed the countess from the balcony
above, a most urgent and necessary journey, and
one that cannot be retarded for even quarter of
an hOurn
''And shall you be long absent p
Very long. 10 the end OF the season probably.
During this cooquy, two horses had been
hitched to the family carriage.
AS for you, my dear friend added the count
pulling out his watch, if | may give you bit of
advice it is to return, without losing minute, to
the railway station. By hurryng you will catch
the train which passes at O'Clock. If you lose
that YOU will be obliged to wait for the last train,
which comes along at O'Clock in the evening.
Five hours Of ennui, without counting the bad din
ner which YOU must get from the small inn the
station. Adieu, my dear friend Receive the as
surance of our most bitter and sincere regrets,
This said, the count and countess stepped INTO
the carriage and drove of in the opposite direction
from that by which l had come, leaving me to re-
trace my steps at my own pace and discretion. l
learned by chance while waiting for the train, that
the long journey on which the count started, was
the tour of his own park, which he invariably
makes on the arrival of visiter and for which he
keeps the baggage ready packed upon the carriage to
be driven round to the door at the shortest warning
Continuing my journey, arrived the next day
at the gates of my friend Monsieur D. This
long tried friend is a retired banker, round and
rosy lover of pleasure and of society, and with
wife who partakes of his tastes. | remembered re-
freshingly, as [ drove along his fine avenue, the
numerous visiters and merry amusements OF other
wears. A welEknown servant received me at the
door but led me i'll with his finger on his lip.
Leaving me to announce my arrival to his master,
he returned after twenty minutes delay, and beck
oned to me to follow him on tiptoe We made our
way softly to the chamber of Monsieur D., a
room darkened so that | could just distinguish my
friends outline, as he sat in easy chair propped
with pillows.
90 All, my dear friend said he, you find us in
pitiable state. ] am i'll. My wife is confined to
her bed. You cannot see her. Three of our ser
wants are dangerously i'll, and the only one of the
household who is fairly on his legs is old Joseph who
let you in. would not be so selfish as to retain
YOU here, for this is an epidemic and you would
assuredy take tin the air. Besides, my doctor has
ordered me silence and absolute repOse Another
year-but my crisis approaches for fit. Adieu!
adieu! Joseph, the door. Adieu, my friend, God
speed you Quick, Joseph!'
% Quilted my friend, in whose various family
sicknesses had very little faith, and after sixty
leagues more Of travel, reached my last resource,