The Pacific commercial advertiser. [volume] (Honolulu, Hawaiian Islands) 1885-1921, 1907-03-24
The Passage Of the Red Sea
By Henry Murger.
Translated From the French.

| Red Sea to make me throw myself out
of the window in despair. But they
know very little of the human heart if
| they expect to catch me with such a
| clumsy trick. l shall no longer wait
for the time of the annual Salon. Be
ginning with to-day, my work becomes
the canvas of Damocles, eternaily
suspended over their existence. From
now on, I am going to send it once
| week to each one of them, at their
homes, in the bosom of their families,
| in the full heart of their private life.
It shall trouble their domestic joy, 1t
shall make them think that their wine
| is sour, their dinner burned, their wives
bad tempered. They will very soon be-
come insane, and will have to be put
in strait jackets when they go to the
Institute, on the days when there are
meetings That idea pleases me-
A few days later, when Marcel had
already forgotten his terrible plans for
vengeance upon his prosecutors, he re-
ceiyed a visit from Father Medicis. For
that was the name by which the bro
| therhood called a certain Jew, whose
real name was Soloman, and who at
that time was well known throughout
the bohemia of art and literature, with
which he constantly had dealings.
| Father Medicis dealt In all sorts OF
bric-a-brac. He sold complete house
furnishings for from twelve francs up
tn a thousand crowns. He would buy
ANYTHING. and knew how to sell it again
at a profit His shop, situated IN the
Place du Carrousel, was fairy spot
| where one could find everything that
one might wish. All the products Oh
nature all the creations of art, all that
| comes forth from the bowels of the
earth or from the genius of man, Medl-
els found it profitable to trade in HIS
/ dealings included everything. absolute
/ ly everything that exists; he even put
a price upon the Ideal. Medic1s would
even buy ideas, to use hlmse1 or 10
sell again. known to all writer's ana
artists. intimate friend of the palette
familiar spirit of the writing-desk, he
was the Asmodeus of the arts. he
would sell you cigars in exchange for
the plot of a dime novel, slippers for
sonnet a fresh catch of fish for
paradox; he would talk at SO much an
hour with newspaper reporters whose
duty was to record the lively capers OF
the smart set. He would get You pass
es to the parliament buildings, or invi-
tations to private parties; he gave
lodings by the night, the week, or the
month to homeless artists, who paid
him by making copies of old masters
in the Louvre. The greenroom had no
secrets for him; he could place your
nlavs for YOU with some manager; he
could obtain for you all sorts of favors.
He carried in his head copy of the
almanac of twenty-five thousand adj
dresses. and knew the residence, the
name, and the secrets of all the celeDr1-
ties even the obscure ones.
In entering the abode of the bone
rnians, with that knowing air Wh1ch
| characterized him, the Jew OWNED that
he had arrived at propitious moment.
AS a matter of fact, the four frlenos
were at that moment gathered in coun-
I'll. and under the domination of a Zero
cious appetite were discussing the grave
question of bread and meat. 1t was
sunday. the last day of the month
Fatal day, sinister of date!
The entrance of Medicis was accord
inglv greeted with a joyous chorus, TOT
thew knew that the Jew was too avarl-
cious of his time to waste 1t in mere
visits of civility; accordingly his pres
ence always announced that he was
omen to a bargain.
Good evening, gentlemen said the
raw. how are you?"
.colline.'' said Rodolphe from where
he lay upon the bed, sunk In the oe'
TIGHTS of maintaining a horizontal hne
;, |