Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1883-09-30

plain cake and not those marvaIons
c9motnations OF sugarsiefne and eream
which they herecah cake. J0st ss w.
were about to give up in desp1Ir. the
head Of the establishment displayed =
startling familiarity with English nv
saying: These are yery goo1
Madame, and cheap" Imagine INV
FEELINGS and all Of my wasted FrencS
Now aways take the precaution 10
ask II they speak Englishn before I
venture TO air my French.
n bright FloWer.Stands.
the gayly-dressed women and cbildran
the priests, nuns, and all kinds of Die.
suresque costumes upon the streets for
sunday is fete day, and everybody is
Soroad), form a vivideonfusiOn of color.
q charming scene Of national life, as
pleasing as it is Undesirable. The
french people are very bright and fas.
einattng, as alluring as the sparkle of
champagne and equally as volatile, and
yet we have found warm and devoted
friends among them, friends in sickness
ana sorrow, whose memory will ever
De associated with all things tender
and true.
We now reach the Place de la Con.
corde, with its great fountains, statuary
n sad memories of the i'll. fated Marie
Antoinette. | never pass its fountains
without thinking Of these words of
ChateaubriaDd: "And all the water In
b world would not suffice TO remove
the blood-stains Of the Place" We
cross the Seine and the Hotel des Inva-
lides is before US, its gilded dome glisten-
enlng IN the sunshine like . great ball
OF lire suspended in mid-air. We enter
the courtyard in the wake of a little
gentleman in uniform lit seems that all
n little gentlemen in France wear
uniforms, the soldiers being the merest
mites you ever saw, who led US up a
Hight OF steps into a circular chapel or
Crypt, where
Napoleon the Great sleeps
his last long sleep. The pavement is a
mosaic Of laurel leaves, on which is
placed the sarcophagus, q huge rock Of
reddlSh-brown granite. We gazed
reyerently on these surroundings OF the
dead, husheO and subdued by thoughts
of the grand hero who had passed like a
splendid apparition from the scene of
his earthly pOmp and glory. The dim
lights falling from the dome above en-
HANGED the grandeur of the tomb, where
all was silence, sadness and repose.
Over the entrance are these words from
the EmpeIor's will: ~ desire that my
ashes repose upon the banks of the
Seine, in the midst Ofthe people / have
loved so we'll"
Too late to reach Versailles in time
for the Grandes Faux, SO we wander
back TO the Louvre, pass Over its pol
ished floors, through long suites of
rooms, each n more or less sacred by
historical memories. Amidst the glitter
of gold and the glow Of color the faces
of the past look down from mary q
canvas, fresh as if painted yesterday.
Names fraught with romantic interest
sanctified every nook and corner of the
palace. Here in this room, built and
adorned by the courtly Francis, my
Imagination goes back to the age Of
tournaments and tented fields; and here
in this long, lofty, sunlit gallery it is diff
ficult to believe that Catherine de Medi-
els could have planned the horrible
massacre Of Saint Bartholomew, and
that from this window she stood and
watched the Seine
Run He'd With the Blood
of her victims. l could spend days de-
scribing the pictures, the GObelins
tapestry, the vases of Sevres and OBJ
jeCts Dart, but better pens than mine
have tried and failed; so l will not
venture, but leave it TO Cooks tour
lists, who rush through the galleries in
a few hours, and are able to tell the
whole story. - - : February s.
The history Of the interval | thus
pass over must remain unwritten. My
heart turns faint, and my mind sinks
into confusion as | go back to the days
of DOUBT and dread, days Of weary
watching by the bedside Of a dear one
tossing in the delirium Of fever, the long,
lonely watches of the night until a pale,
sad moon would come up, which, 20 my
excited fancy, seemed like the face OF
the death angel looking down upon the
ruin it was doomed to make. But nov
| it is all passed, the hue of health is re-
turning to the pallid cheek, the old
merry sparkles to the eye that were al
WAYS bright, and the whole world Is
warm and glorifed with the tender
light from above, the light of love aud
/ Troy Nj, r..