The Roanoke daily times. (Roanoke, Va.) 1895-1897, 1896-01-21
LOVES THE BIRDS.
FRANCOIS coPPEE AND HIS FRIENDS
IN THE sARDlN DU LUXEMBOURG.

IN THE lARDlN DU LUXEMBOURG.
It Iaa Touching Sight to Watch tho Poet
Feed His Pets In a Public Gerdcn-A
Man VIII Is Loved by ALI and Is oDear
Master' to tho 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 n Of his pockets he carries tine
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
himl"
They are not the only ones that know
what Coppee has in his pocket. All the
Latin quarter people who come and 60
through that corner of the Luxembourg
garden which faces the Odeon know that
the gentle author rarely misses o day in
his devotion to the birds. And when he
appears with q peculiar swollen appear
ance about one of his pockets they draw
quietly off to a respectful distance to
watch.
AS soon as the circle Of spectators
workmen in blue blouses, students in
corduroy and SLOUGH hats, nursemaids
with barelegged children-as soon as
these elements, which might possibly
be disturbing, have taken themselves far
enough out of the way, the birds close
IN around the poet until sometimes q
hundred of them will be f1uttering about
his head or hopping about his feet.
Then no takes out his piece of bread,
and crumbling off one corner losses a
morsel up i'll the mir. Instantly there is
a flutter 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 flock.
One cruInb after another is thrown
out in this direction and that, and oc-
casionally n few are scattered on the
ground, SO that the less adventurous and
weaker spirits may have their share.
Finally a good fat crumb is pinched off,
but not thrown. 1t is held invitingly
between the thumb and finger, while
tho poet looks at his birds as much as to
say:
Come, come. You know your friend
Coppee. Give me q proof of your affec-
ton, as I am giving you q proof of
mine"
Ih0ro 10 n ,v,aaA Q-AAz.. A..
the birds, q great cooking Of pretty
heads, much sharp glancing of bright
eyes. Finally II particularly brave
little creature makes q wide ourve to-
ward the imprisoned crumh, but his
courage deserts him ON the way, and he
circles back to his place without the
Coppee rubs the crumb a little,
so that o tiny morsel Of it falls to the
ground, where it is quickly picked up.
It is MS if he said to his small flock:
"See, my little friends. it is a good
crumb. Where is your confidencep Have
l ever betrayed your"
AS if ashamed of having hesitated SO
long, a bird makes q dart toward Tic
outstrctched hand, poises with duttcr-
ing wings above it, picks daintily at tho
crulnb and then bears it away triumph
antly i'll its bill. After that it all goes
merry us u marriage bell. Two or three
birds will be eating from his hand at
the same time. They light OH his shout
der. on his arm, on his hat.
The spectators meanwhile arc full of
brenthless interest. A child whose loud
cry of delight startled tho birds into
sudden flight is unceremoniously jerkcd
back by his nurse with an emphatic
"Tais-toi." The students talk in an un-
dertone about the dear master, as they
call Coppee.
Last winter, when there was an I'M
usual amount Of snow i'll Paris, Coppeo
was particularly attentive to the wants
OF his birds, which i'll their turn were
more than ever n~ppreciativo Of his good
offices, for the SHOW lnado pretty poor
picking for them. And on cold days it
was no uncommon sight to SEQ the stu
dents rush up to tho poet after he had
finished his dole and turn up his coat
collar or tighten his muller or button
his oyercoat.
Dear master" they would say affec-
tionately, ''you must be more careful of
yourself. You <know you arc not strong,
and it is cold, and We need you as much
as the birds do"
To the birds and the students he is al
ways "the dear master" 1t was Coppee
who wrote and read the poem for the
unveiling Of the bust Of Henri Murger
III that same Jardin du Luxembourg.
Murger's name is idolized by the whole
Latin quarter, and it is doubtful if the
students would have permitted any one
of whom they did not approve to take
part in h ceremonies at the unwilling