The morning call., 1893-05-07
A PARIS VISIONARY.
BY ALPHoNsE DAUDET.

Has it happened to you to quit your house
with light step and a happy soul and.
after two hours walk in Paris. to return
all upset, overcome by a sadness without
cause, an incomurehensible trouble? You
ask yourself what ails me?" But it is in
vain you search-you find nothing. Your
entire walk was agreeable. the sidewalks
dry, the sun warm; and yet you feel pain
full anguish in your heart like the impress
sion of some chagrin you have experienced
The reason is that in this big city OF
Paris, where the crowd feels itself unob-
served and free, you cannot take step
without running against some contagious
distress which splashes you, so to speak.
and leaves its mark upon you as you pass by.
l allude not alone 10 those mlsfortunes with
which you are acquainted, in which you
take an interest, to those troubles of your
friends which are to some extent yours. and
the sudden meeting with which wrings
your heart like remorse; nor even to those
chagrns of people who are Indifferent to
you, which you listen to but with one ear
and which disturb you without your sus-
pecting it. | speak more particularly OF
those troubles wholly strange to you, OF
which you catch only glimpse in passing,
in minute. amid the activity OF your walk
and the confusion of the street.
They are suggested by shreds OF Jerky
dialogues caught up amid the roll OF car
riages, by secret and pasSiyely endured
preoccupation which speak for themselves
and very plainly, too. by weary shoulders,
by wild gestures. by feverish eyes, by wan,
tear-swollen eountenanceS, by recent attllc-
ton lily veiled beneath mourning robes.
Then. again, suggestions are made by fur
tive details which are so Siight.-a brushed,
threadbare coat cape seeking 10 avoid OBJ
servati0n; a ienantleSs bird-eage swinging
TO and fro in a porch; velvet ribbon
around the neck OF q hunchback woman.
cruelty tied straight between the counter
felt shoulders. All these visions of un-
known misfOrtunes pass heetly and you
forget them as YOU walk along: but you
have felt the grazing of their sadness. your
garments have become pregnated with the
trouble they drew after them, and at the
close OF the day you feel all that is suscepti-
bic to emotion ana pain within you stir, be-
cause, without having perceived it, you
have become entangled, at the corner of
street. at the threshold of door. with that
Invisible thread which unites all the unf0r-
tunate and agiates them with tile same
shock.
thought of this the other morning-tor
it IS in the morning especially that Paris
shows lis miseriss-as | beheld walking in
front of me poor devil who wore an over
coat mucn TOO small for him, which made his
strides seem longer and terOclOuSly eX-
aggerated all his movements. Bent almost
double. twisted like a tree in gale of wind,
this man was moving along very rapidly.
From time 10 time he plunged his hand into
one of his pockets and there broke off
pieces from small loaf of bread, which he
devnured furtlYely, as if ashamed OF eating
in the street.
The masOHs give me an appetite when L
see them seated on the sidewalks bite right
into the middle of their fresh loaves. The
poor clerks also make me feel hungry when
they return on run from the b kerry to the
office, with their pens behind their ears and
their mouths full, highly enjoying this re-
past in the open air. But, in the case be-
lore me, | OWNED the shame OF excessive
hunger, and it was pitiful to see that
wretched creature daring to eat only by
mOrSelS the bread which lie greedlly broke
in the depths of his pocket.
l had been following him Tor moment
when suddenly, as often happens with these
astray eXistences, he all at once changed his
direction and idea, and, as lie wheeled
about: found himself face to face with me.
"Ah is it you?" BY chance was slightly
acquainted with him. He was one Of those
orlglnators of business, so many OF whom
spring up on the pavaments of Paris, man
of inventions, founder OF impossible news
papers, about whom during a certain time
there had been Il great deal OF talk and
! printed TumOrS but who, three mouths be-
fore. had disappeared with a formidable
plunge. After bubbing for a few days
around the spot of his fall the water had
sought its level, cinsed again aad he had
been completely forgotten. On behold
ing me lie grew troubled aud, 10 Gu, short
every question. also. without doubt,
TO draw away my glance from bis mis-
erable attire and his little loaf Of bread,
he began talking TO me very rapidly, in
falsely joyous tone. His affairs were get
ting on well, very well. There had been
only mOmentary delay. At present he
had magnificent project in hand-a large
| illustrated industrial journal. There was
great deal Of money to be made, 10 say
nothing OF the superb lot If advertisements!
And his eountenanre grew animated as he
talked. Gradually he assumed n protecting
tone, as if he were already in his editorial
room; he even asked me TO write some
articles for him.
| triumph, ITS sure thing. | shall COM
mence with 100000 francs, which Girardin
| has promised me 70
Grardnl
That's the name which always comes TO
| the lips of these YiSionaries. When aDy one
| utters 1t IN my hearing. | seem to see new
sections vi the city, big untinish he'd buildings
| and freshly printed newspapers, with long
| lists OF stockholders and officials. How
| many times have | heard 1t spoken apropos
| of senseless projects, the projectors exclainl-
| ing: "GiraGdIn must be spoken to about
| Ihisr
And TO this poor devil also the idea had
! come TO speak Of this" to Grardin All
! HBHt ue must nave Oeen preparing his
| plans, jotting down his figures; then he had
! set out and, as he walked and excited bim-
| self, the affair had become so advantageous
| that, at the moment of our meeting it ap-
| peared tn him impossible that Girardiu could
| refuse him his 100000 francs. In saving
| that they had been promised him, the un-
| fortunate man did not lie-he was merely
| continuing his dream.
| While he was speaking to me we were hus-
! tied and pushed against the walls. 1t was
on the sidewalk Of one of those busy streets
/ which lead from the Bourse to the Bank,
! filled with hurried people whose minds
| were wholly Intent upon their business,
| anxious shopkeepers fastening TO pay their r
notes. low-Orowed spectators who made
| calculations as they passed And to hear
| this poor devils fine projects amid that
! crowd, in this quarter devoted to Specnla-
| ton where one felt something like the haste
| and excitement OF games of chance made
| me shiver as at story OF shipwreck related
| upon the open sea. ] really beheld all this
man was telling iue about-I saw his caias-
| trophies upon other visages and his radiant
| hopes in other wild eyes He quilted me
as suddenly as he had joined me. plunging
! madly into that whirlwind OF fOllies, dreams
and lies which men seriously call 'busI-
| ness"
In five minutes / had forgotten him, but
! in the evening. on returning home, when /
shook up with the dust Of the streets all the
| sadness of the day, | again saw that twisted
! and pale face, the little loaf of bread and
| The gesture when had underscored those
vain words, with 100000 francs which
| Girardn has promised meP-1ran slated
| for The MORNING CALL from the French
| of Alphonse Daudet.
|