The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1908-07-12
BOOK n.
CHAPTER ]
CITY POYNTON AGAIN.

'I suppose" the boy said thought
fully, II must seem to you beastly I'M
grateful You've been a perfect brick
to me ever since that night. But L
can't help being a bit homesick. You
see. it was really the first time I'd
ever been away from home for long,
and though my little place isn't a patch
on this, of course. still. l was born
there. and I'm jolly fond of it."
His companion nodded, and his dark
eyes rested for moment upon the 9TH
er's face. Guy Poynton was idly watch
ing the reapers at work in the golden
valley below, and he did not catch his
friends expression.
You are very young, mon cher ami"
he said. LAS one grows older one de-
mands change. Change always of scene
and occupation. Now I too am most
hideously bored here, although it is my
home. For me to live is only possible
in Paris-Paris the beautiful"
Guy looked away from the fields. He
resented little his friends air of SUI
periority.
There's only a years difference in
our agesw he remarked.
Henri de Bergillac smiled-this time
more expressively than ever, and held
out his hands.
IT speak of experience. not years"
he said. You have lived for twenty
years in a very delightful spot, no
doubt, but away from everything that
makes life endurable, possible even, for
the child of the cities. I have lived
for twenty-one years mostly in Paris.
All, the difference"
Guy shrugged his shoulders and lean
ed back in his chair.
We'll" he said briefly, tastes diff
fer I've seen quite all I want to of
Paris for the rest of my life. Give
me q fine June morning in the coun-
try, and a tramp round the farm, or
an early morning start in September
walking down the partridges, or gray
day in November with a good gee I'M
derneath, plenty of grass ahead. and
hounds talking. Good God, 1 wish 1
were back in England"
Henri smiled and caressed his upper
lip, where symptoms of a mustache
were beginning to appear.
My dear Guy" he said. you speak
crudely because you do not under
stand. You know of Paris only its
grosser side. How can one learn more
when he cannot even speak its Ian
guage? You know the Paris of the
tourist. The real magic of my beau
tiful city has never entered into your
heart. Your little dabble in its vices
and frivolities must not count to you
as anything final. The joy of Paris to
one who understands 1t the exquisite re-
finement, the unsurpassed culture, of
its abysmal wickedness."
1.-The devilr" Guy exclaimed. Have
you found out all that for yourself?''
Henri was slightly annoyed. He was
always annoyed when he was not TAX
en- seriously.
81 have had the advantage" he said,
"of many friendships with men
men whose names you would scarcely
know, but who directed the intellectual
tendencies of the younger generation of
Parisians. People call US decadents-I
suppose, because we prefer intellectu-
al progression to physical activity. 1
am afraid, dear friend, that you would
never be one of u.s.
II am quite sure of it," Guy an
swered.
You will not even drink absinthe."
Henri continued, helping himself from
little carafe which stood between
them. absolutely the most artistic OF
all drinks. You prefer a thing you
call a pipe TO my choicest cigarettes.
and you have upon your cheeks color
of which plowboy should be
ashamed
Guy laughed good humoredly.
well, 1 can't help being sunburntw
he declared. Henri sighed delicately.
"Ah, 1t is not~only that" he said. at
wish so much that / could make you
understand. You positively cultivate
good health, take cold baths and walk
and exercise to preserve it."
why the dickens shouldn't II"
Henri half closed his eyes. He was a
dultiful nephew, but he felt that an
other month with this clodhoper Of an