Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1893-1920, 1896-02-21
HE LOVES THE BIRDS.
FRANCOIS coPPEe AND HIS FRIENDS
IN THE JARplN ou LUXEMBOURG.

It Is Touclin: Sight to Watch the Poet
Feed His Pets In . Public Gardc.-A
Man Who Is Loved by All and Il ~Dcar
Master" to the Students.
Francois Coppee, the author Of "For
the King" has a great many friends in
Paris, but none Of them is more devoted
than the little birds that live in the Jar
din du luxembourg. They know him as
soon as they see him come in at one Of
the wide gates, his shoulders dropping,
his head hanging forward, his face pale
from i'll health. They know in just
which one Of his pockets he carries the
big piece of bread which he is going to
divide into crumbs for their benefit, and
they probably say in their own special
language:
"Ah, here is Friend Coppee. bless
him!'
They are not tho only ones that know
what Coppee has in his pocket. All the
Latin quarter people who come and go
through that corner Of the Luxembourg
garden which faces the Odeon know that
tho gentle author rarely misses a day in
his devotion to the birds. And when he
appears with a peculiar swollen appear
ance about one of his pockets they draw
quietly OF to respectful distance to
watch.
AS soon as tho circle Of spectators
workmen IN blue biouses, students in
corduroy and SLOUGH hats, nursemaids
with barelegSed childrcn-as soon as
these clements, which might possibly
DO disturbing, have taken themselves far
enough out of the way, the birds close
in around the poet until sometimes a
hundred Of them will be fluttering about
his head CT hopping about his feet.
Then he takes out his piece of bread,
and crumbling off one corner losses a
morsel up in the air. Instantly there is
fiutter of wings, and two or three of
the birds dart upward, and the most for
tunate one catches the crumb in its flight
and settles down again to his place in
the flcck.
One cruinb after another is thrown
ont i'll this direction and that, and &C.
casionally a few are scattered ON the
ground, so that the less adventurous and
weaker spirits may have their share.
Finally q good fat crumb is pinched of,
but not thrown. 1t is held invitingly
between the thumb and finger, while
the poet looks at his birds as much as to
say:
''Come, come. You know your friend
Coppee. Give ne q proof of your affec-
ton, as I am giving you q proof of
mine.''
There is aSreat flutter then among
the birds, great cooking Of pretty
heads, muci, sharp glancing of bright
eyes. Finally ono particularly brave
little creature makes a wide curve to-
| ward the imprisoned crumb, but his
courage deserts him ON the way, and he
circles back to his place without the
| prize. Coppce rubs the crumb little,
SO that q tiny morsel Of it falls to the
ground, whcre it is quickly picked up
1t is as if he said to his small flock:
''See, my little friends, it is a good
crumb. Where is your confidence? Have
ever betrayed you?''
As if ashamed of having hesitated so
long, bird makes Il dart toward the
outstretched hand, poises with flutter-
ing wings above it, picks daintily at the
crumb and then bears it away triumph
antly in its bill. After that it all goes
merry as a marriage bell. Two or three
birds will Ee eating from his hand at
the same time. They light Oh his shout
der, OH his arm, on his hat.
The spectators meanwhile are full Of
breathless interest. A child whose loud
cry Of delight startled the birds into
sudden flight is unceremoniously jerked
Is, l,-, L., -, 4.
"Tais-toi. Tho students talk in an un-
dertone about the dear master, as they
call Coppee.
Last winter, when there was an IN
usual amount of snow in Paris, Coppeo
was particularly attentive to the wants
Of his birds, which in their turn were
more than ever appreciative of his good
offices, for the snow made pretty poor
picking for them. And ON cold days ii
was no uncommon sight to see the stu.
dents rush up to the poet after he bad
finished his dole and turn up his coat
collar or tighten his mufiler or button
his overcoat.
Dear MASTER" they would say affec.
tionately, ''you must be more careful of
yourself. You know you are not strong.
and it is Geld, and We need you as much
as the birds do.
To tho birds and the students he is al
ways "the dear master" 1t was Coppee
who wrote and read the poem for the
unwilling Of the bust Of Henri Murger
in that Same Jardin du Luxembourg.
Murger's name is idolized by the whole
Latin quarter, and it is doubtful il the
students would have permitted any one
of whom they did not approve to take
part in the ceremonies at tho unwilling
of his monument.
Coppee is not married, although, in
French fashion, he has friend to whom
he makes mysterious references in his
writings as one who is dear to him and
in whose heart he knows he will leave
inconsolable regret when he dies How.
ever that may be, he will be sure Of
plenty of sincere mourners-the students
of the Latin quarter and the birds of the
Jardin de- Luxembourg. York
Sun.