The Seattle post-intelligencer. [volume] (Seattle, Wash. Terr. [Wash.]) 1888-1914, 1891-10-09
NJ. DAUDET AT HOME.
The Great French Novelist and
His Summer Residence.
HIS CHARACTERS FROM LIFE
A Frenchman Who Studies German Lit
erature - He Admires lola - His
Trouble With an Insulted Peasant

PARIS, Sept. 21.-lspecial Correspond
ence. 1.-The lat homes" of Daudet, Sarcey
and Pailleron are considered some of the
leading attractions of Paris today. Not
that they differ so much from other after.
noon receptions in the way of amuse-
ments, which consists in a conversation
fitting from one subject to another as one
turns from guest to guest, and the serving
OF refreshments interrupted by an occa-
sional piano recital or recitation.
1t was on disagreeable rainy day that
l was introduced to Daudet's Partisan
home-his summer residence in Champro-
say, in the forest of Senard. with beauti-
full view of the Seine-and so the guests
were not numerous.
There was Ernest Daudet, the brother
of the novelist, very clever journalist
and amateur historian; Monsieur and
Nine. Lipman. the latter being Colette.
the eldest daughter of Dumas fls Her
husband is the director of the arsenal of
st. Etienne. There was Albert Wolf, the
famous contributor to the Figaro; Paul
Arene, who was at times a co-operator of
Daudets; Nine. Theophile Benton, the
writer for the reviews on American itera-
ture for the Revue des Deux Mondes, a great
admirer of Walt Whitman, having trans
lated his "Drum Taps" into French.
Mounet Sully, the hero of the Coincide
FRANCHISE and as Hamlet, incompatible
to the Parisians, besides a number of
artists. dramatists, young noblemen and
ouchesses of more or less repute.
Though Alphonse Daudet had been
pointed out to me on the street once be-
fore, 1t was the first time / approached
him near enough to make satisfactory
scrutiny.
The first impression he produced, as he
sat comfortably in divan chair, was that
OF something feminine, something ORR
entail pervading his person, which lent him
striking individuality. His fine, spirit
ual face, winning amiability, his tender
smiles and roguish glances reminded one
OF the soft climate and cloudiess skies of
his native land, the Provence.
The conversation was about contempo-
rary literature. Daudet is very much in
terested in German literature, much more
than French authors generally allow them
selves to be. He especially admired Spiel
hagen's writings and wished he could find
translator and publisher for them.
He remarked: 1--WE Frenchmen also are
ignorant of many things. We understand
no other languages, and only know some
thing of modern German literature from
hearsay; it surely has produced many
things OF instructive Importance, but we
only see rare and generally bad transla-
lions. l like Spielhagen, because, like
myself, he writes his characters after liv-
ing models with whom he is acquainted.
But my wife does not think it always well
to do So"
Nine. Julia Daudet (nee Allard), writer
of some distinction herself, then took the
word.
ayes, that is NJ. Daudet's way Of writ
ing. Whatever he describes he has actu-
ally seen, and he has known all the per-
sons he introduces. Some are obscure
people, others celebrities from whom the
masks might be lifted by the whole
world"
"But," continued Daudet, 81 would
rather renounce writing than not describe
characters know. If I have the good for
tune to meet an original, interesting type
of humanity. how can I resist describing
it? 1t has been the cause of many annoy
ances to me-" Daudet looked musingly at
the floor. He was probably thinking of
the scandal which his introduction of the
in his 'Le Nabob," caused in aristocratic
circles, although he had been the dukes
protege and secretary.
SIN Jack, resumed his wife, "a peas
ant woman from the forest of Senard, by
the name of Sale, is described; the charac-
ter, though tiattered, is that of a real ex-
listing Sale. One day, after jack had
been published, my husband and Ernest
Daubet took walk in the same forest.
when suddenly a peasant with huge
stick made his appearance, barricaded the
way and asked in an angry voice: Are
YOU Monsieur Laudet p"
''Daudet, not Laudet," my husband re-
piled.
nut my wife in the newspapers. You'll
nav for it." shouted the peasant, swinging
his stick. "The Infatuated man was no
other than Monsieur Sale himself"
Yes, and it took MS long time to calm
him."
The guests were all highly amused.
sThe same thing happened after publish
ing the adventures of 'Tartarin de Taras-
con- was overwhelmed with threaten
ing letters and fear my life would not be
safe if | went to the Goscoigne." And he
drew his fingers through his abnormally
long hair. falling almost to his shoulders
Mounet SuIly was asked to give a recita-
ton. He excused himself on the plea that
he was not prepared, and when his friends
continued their persuasions he seized
book. 1t was Daudet's Letters From Ny
Windmill
A large portion of these letters were
written in an old sawmill, situated amid
wild. romantic fir-clad hills on the banks of
the Rhone, which he had purchased to en-