The morning call., 1890-12-21

handle, in the form of sickle or
q Turkish saber, with which at the end
OF bourgeoise dinners, before the dessert, the
servant and sometimes the lady or young
lady OF the house sweeps away the crumbs
OF bread remaining on the cloth beside each
guest, as she makes the tour of the table.
Well that's what ruined me.
L had not dreamed of getting married.
The chief of the department in which |
worked, at excellent man, had frequently
SAID to me: I'm your place, l wouldn't
marry. 1t isn't because L have been ten
years separated from my wife that tell you
Ihis, but in your place i would not marry"
Besides was perfectly happy and my bach
elor life was just to my taste.
was at that time, as l am at present. en-
ployed in public department. Two thou
SAND seven hundred francs and perquisites
were not bad Tor young fellow of IS years
oil age. The bureau TO which / was attached
tbureau of morgues and medical colleges
and my speciality. that OF distributing sub
9eets among the dlSsectiug-rooms, were not
particularly enliyeping, and | had all day
before my eyes six green pasteboard boxes,
upon the backs of which l had written in a
big hand, Destination of cadavers." But
had my specially. got through my work in an
hour or TWO and killed the rest of. the time
solving the REFUSES in the Monde Illu SIRE at
which had become an adept.
But the hours spent at the Office were a
sacrifice to daily bread. My real life began
at o'clock, when L took my cane and
walked TO my distant quarter, taking tie
Boulevard des Inyalides or the Boulevard
NOntparnasse.
The summer evenings, especially, were
charming. The oblique sun, the sun of the
" hour of effect" as the artists say, gilded
the old trees. the elms, lindens and chest
nuts which had been slowly growing since
the days OF Louis XIV. 1t was delightful to
walk beneath their robust branches, be-
meath their thick foliage which the sinking
sun sowed with bright spangles.
BACHELOR JOYS.
In front of the Western Railway Depot
haiti The waiter had reserved me my
table at the window in the entresol of the
little restaurant, and / dined slowly. anus ,e
ing myself by making out, i'll the crowds
from the Versailles trains, the two artillery
men, always alike, red flame on their
shakos, with their heavy pantaloons, and
holding up the scabbards of their sabers
the couples of very weary lovers, bringing
back with them huge punches Of neld
flowers; and the old. gray-beaIded botanist
In dusty CATERS and straw hat, with his
green pox which beat against his back. at
night l took nv little drink in the open air.
In front of cafe; then, for the most part of
the time, ! returned home.
Who now lnhabltS my lofty chamber of the
Rue d'Assas? Some Philistine, perhaps,
who has dishonored the walls by mailing on
L IN
time it was the chamber of poor man, but
furnished to my liking. There l had my
flute, my pipe. good carpet and big easy
chair IN which to lay back and dream or read
at tho corner of the fire. On shelf were
the books knew by heart-Montaigne and
La Fontaine, ana for my lighter moments
my dear Dickens. To the right and the left
OF the looklng-glass were nv fine artists
proofs of The Bride" and "Escarpoiettu's
Good Luck"
In Oh ~,
were exquisite. l idled around the room in
my shirt sleeves smoking my first pipe, and
through the wide-open window | saw the
masses OF yerdure of the Luxembourg, the
domes O. the Pantheon and Waldo Grace,
together With plenty Of blue sky, while the
agile swallows passed and repassed contin-
ually. utteriDg their little cuik, which
seemed to be their fashion of bidding me
good morning. But the evenings were still
more delicious-the starry evenings when,
alter having read two or three interesting
pages and played tr!es Of Mozart on my
flute, l sat at the window before the
splendors of the zodiac, listening to bits of
waltzes from the Jardin Butler, which the
night breeze brought to me in puffs.
AN IMPRUDENT STEP.
Yes, to be sure. women are lacking; there
were but few rettieoats in my life. il is true.
But that's what / had the imprudence 10
confde to my colleague, man whom /
should have mistrusted, for he was intensely
practical, and, having learned shoemaking
as pleasure. out of spirit of economy
made his own shoes at the office in his lei
sure moments. He said to me once:
francs and hopes. The mother has violet
lips; she will die of heart disease"
l was not decided and protested. Bah.
before two weeks was over l was already
cumpromised-I had accepted an invitation
to dine with the family of the young per-
sen. The crumb-brush did not rest.
1t was at the moment Of the dessert. The
repast had been very nice. very agreeable
Though she wore her husbands photograph
in her breast-Din, mamma had the air OF an
excellent woman, and though trifie solemn
and having talked since the soup of the con-
duct France ought TO maintain toward Rus
STA, papa did not displease me, with his
Greek skEll-cap and his face with its white
beard, which looked like tina: of Moses /
had dined very well, too well. The roast
was eviDrntly cooked with wood, and tn ere
was a very fine Burgundy which had the
odor of violets. L expanded at the dessert.
1t was then that the young lady. at gest-
ure from her mother, took basket and the
sickle-shaped brush, to gather up!the bread
crumbs beside each guest.
You are not marble, Ell? Well, neither
was l, and when that tall brunette, with
cheeks like ripe nectarines, bent over me to
brush the cloth, touching MY shoulder and
intoxicating NE with the perfume of her
hair, l said to myself Ut was the fault of
the Burgundy wine). Il will ask for her
hapdH
Well, / asked for IL: ten years ago /
asked for 1t, and my demand was favorably
received. Since ! have been the most UNI
happy Of men.
In the first place, once married and the
ather of family, it was imperative to 60
owork seriously. Adieu the REFUSES of the
Monde Illustre! Now, l plunge to the neck
into my repugnant documents; / delve at
the question of the morgues and exhaust
lively scan the medical colleges. This dis
heartcns and disgusts me, but l already have
chief at LOCO francs. To pose before my su-
periors as a thoroughly posted specialist, 1
have published few pamphlets: the titles
OF which alone fill me with horror, as for
i Instance sv, The The Morgaes; What They
viii Be-" or again. ION tho Danger Of
Hurried Burials," and at this very moment
/ am preparing voluminous report on 1.-The
Suburban Cemeteries and Railway Trans
portation of Bodies" Just think Of it'll
who used to play the flute and write sonnets!
DELIGHTS OF MATRIMoNY.
Ny poor flute, it's long while since 1t has
been out Of its case, and It's the same with
my big meerschaum pipe, with its bowl
grasped by an eagles claw Music and
revery are for poets and bachelors.
Gone also Is my delightful idling after
office hours. Now l rush to the traimway to
regain the fIightful quarter in which my
wife insists uron living in order to be
nearer her parents. There / inhabit sor-
row-nspiring entres0l, with very low
ceiling, whence ! can see from the win
dow, when l shave in the morning. house
being torn down and the side of another
house daubed over with a gigantic green
devil, shaking from horD-of-penty coats.
pantaloODs and vests-the advertisement Of
some enterprising clotbier.
Mon Dieu! / can't complain Of my wife;
she's n very gOod creature save that she
loves her children not like mother, but
like hen and spells them horribly. Only
ask you in all caud0r, can nervous man
abide las happens to me daily finding chill
dren's soaked shoes on the mantelpiece and
towels drying on the fre-screen? Besides,
1 cannot comprehend why my wife insists
On keeping that servant with wine stain
on her face and whose very aspect takes
away my appetite.
Ny mother-in-law would be supportable