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

IL II Touching Sight to watch tie Poet
Feed His Pets In Public Gardc,-A
Man Who Is Loved by All and Il sDear
Master" to the Students.
Francois Coppee, tho author of "For
the King. has u 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 rs
soon as they see him come in at one of
the wide gates, his shoulders dropping,
his head hanging forward, his face pale
from ill 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
himr'
They are not the only ones that know
what Coppee has in his pocket. All the
Latin quarter people who come and 10
through that corner of the Luxembourg
garden which faces the Odeon know that
the gentle author rarely misses day in
his devotion to the birds And when he
appears with peculiar swollen appear
anco about one of his pockets they draw
quietly OF to q respectful distance to
watch.
AS soon as the circle of spectators
workmen in bluo 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 cut Of the way, the birds close
In around the poet until sometimes a
hundred Of them will be fluttering about
his head or hopping about his feet.
Then he takes ont his piece of bread,
and crumbling off one corner losses a
morsel up in the air. Instantly there is
o fiutter Of wings, and two or three of
the birds dart upward, and the most for
tunate one catches the crumb in its fight
and settles down again to his place in
the flock.
One crumb after another is thrown
ont IN this direction and that, and &C.
casionally few are scattered on the
ground, SO that the less adventurous and
weaker spirits may have their share.
Finally good fat crumb is pinched of,
but not thrown. It 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 me o proof Of your affec-
ton, as l am giving you a proof of
mine.''
There is c Sreat flutter then among
the birds, a great cooking Of pretty
heads, mach sharp glancing Of bright
eyes. Finally one particularly brave
little creature makes wide curve to-
ward tho imprisoned crumb, but his
courage deserts him on the way, and he
circles back to his place without the
prize. Coppee rubs the crumb little,
SO that tiny morsel of it falls to the
ground, where 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
I ever betrayed you?''
As if ashamed of having hesitated SO
long, a bird makes dart toward the
outstretched hand, poises with flutter-
ing wings above it, picks daintily at the
crumb and then bears it away triumph
antly i'll its bill. After that it all goes
merry cs marriage bell. Two or three
birds will he eating from his hand at
the same time. They light on his shoul-
der. Oh his arm, Oh 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
back by his nurse with an emphatic
"Tais-toi. F" The students talk in an I'M
dertone about the dear master, as they
call Coppee.
Last winter, when there was an m
usual amount Of snow in Paris, Coppee
was particularly attentive to the wants
Of his birds, which in their turn were
more than ever apprcciative of his good
offices, for tho snow made pretty poor
picking for them. And Oh cold days it
was 10 uncommon sight to see the stu
dents rush up to the poet after he had
finished his dole and turn up his coat
collar or tighten his muller or button
his overcoat.
Dear MASTER" they would say affec-
eiohdtSiyS yOu NC L3ohC Va "a
yourself. You know You are 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 'tho dear master" 1t was Coppee
who wrote and read the poem for the
unwilling of the bust CT Henri Murger
in 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 the ceremonies at the 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. bow
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. -New York
Sun.