The Birmingham age-herald. [volume] (Birmingham, Ala.) 1902-1950, 1908-09-20

about the feasibility of going in bodies 10
Paris and furnishing that Doudet.' They
shook their fists in the air on the streets
when his name was mentioned. Book
sellers of the south of France refused TO
sell his books. But they could only in
crease its sale. It is one of the jokes of
modern literature.
"HE intrepid Tartarin of Tarascon
lived in a house that was outward
L " Just like all the other quiet, re-
spectacle houses of Tarascon; but inward
ly it showed the heroic nature of its
owner.
In the garden grew nothing but exotic
plants-cocoa, mangoes, bananas, caeu
and. greater than all, the famous baoeao
of India, the giant tree. 1t is true thae
the baobab was not of full growth, being
In fact easily accommodated IN small
flower pot. while the other plants were
equally lacking in size, but notwithstand-
ing it was true baobab, and the town
felt proud Of it.
In his study he had all the weapons or
the whole world-earbines, rifles, Malay
creeses, Hottentot clubs everything. THESE
were all labeled with little cards saying
POISONED arrowsi Do not touchF ana
Loaded Take care, please!
On a table were the books of Captain
Cook and James Fennimore Cooper, stories
of hunting bears and elephants and lions.
The owner of all this terrifying array was
a man between forty and forty-tive, snort
stout, thick-set, ruddy, with flaming eyes
and strong stubby beard. When ne
read the exciting stories of wild deeds ne
pouted out his lower lip in terrifying
way. which gave impression of noble
ferocity to the countenance of this great
man. the dreadless, Incompatible Tar
tarin of Tarascon.
IT was not for nothing that he had
this alarming arsenal. He was the KING
shot of Tarascon-Tarascon, Where
everybody shoots. No Sunday ever
passed without hunting parties that
comprised the whole of the male popu-
lation. All the dogs of Tarascon,
hurly-burly of barks, bays, cracking
of whips, blowing of dog whistles ana
hunting horns, an army with game
bags and fowling pieces-that was
Tarascon on a Sunday.
Unfortunately there was a lack OF
game, an absolute dearth. So far as
known. there was only one animal lett
In the country all around, an old bare
on M. Bompards farm, which had dou-
bIed, even trebled in value as result.
But he was a villain of hare whom
nobody could lay low. and finally only
two or three inveterate sportsmeh
bothered themselves about him.
The rest went into the country with
ample supplies and after luncheon the
shoot" was declared officially open
Thereupon every hunter threw his cap
into the air and shot at it with all his
skill. The man who lodged the most
shot in his cap was proclaimed king OF
the hunt and conducted triumphantly
back to Tarascon with his riddled cap
on the end of his gun barrel.
AS a marksman at caps Tartarin
never had his match. The loft at
Baobab Villa was full of these glorious
trophies. Therefore he was a great
Judge for all sporting problems that
arose in Tarascon. Every afternoon H.
might be seen at the shop of Coste
calde, the gunsmith, surrounded by
wrangling hunters, who laid their dis
putes before him.
Yet all this glory did not content
him. For his wild, adventurous spirit,
which dreamed of battles, races across
the pampas, tigers and elephants, 1t
was not enough to go out every Sun
day and pop at caps His Hottentot
clubs and Malay creeses shouted Bat
tle Battle" to him continually.
Through the twigs of his baobab ble'7
the tempest of great voyages. Many
times, when he was reading under his
blades and points, the poor man would
dash down his book and unhook dead
ly arm. Flourishing it. he would bel
low:
Now, only let 'em comet
"Themv' Who were "they"?
''They'' were all that attacks and fights,
all that bits, scratches, scalps, whoops
or yells-Sioux, grizzlies, Algerian BAN
dts, Malay pirates.
II was to no avail that the fearless
Tarasconer called for and defied them.
Never did they come. w nat WOulu lney
have come to Tarascon for?
Nevertheless Tartarin always expected
to run against them, particularly some
evening going to his club. He always
was ready for them" In his left hand
he bore a steel-pointed knuckle duster.
In his right he carried a sword cane,
In his left pocket lay a life preserver
In the right lay a revolver. On his chest
between outer and inner garments re-
posed a Malay creese.
Thus armed he strolled through his
garden leisurely and coolly, prepared foi
all. He opened the heavy iron door ant
slammed it violently against the outer
wall. II 'they'' had been skulking be-
hind it they would have been jam. Their
he would go dauntlessly through the
dark streets, prudently keeping in tht
middle of the road. Reaching the club
he would cast one last flaming look OF
defiance into the night and mutter wrath
fully: Nothing! There never is moth
ing!" Only double negation could dc
Justice to his feelings.
Yet with all this mania for adventure
this fierce determination, Tartarin had
reached the age of IS years without once
having slept outside of his own room
He had not even taken that obligatory
trip to Marselles which every sound pro
yencal makes upon coming of age. The
most of his knowledge included Beau.