St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1910-08-17

ing. And the dancer had been right.
One of her legs was badly broken.
She would never dance again.
A great many people keep their friends
In mind by writing to them, but more
do not, and Ward snd belong to the
majority. After my departure from
Paris l had but one missive from him,
a short note written at the request of
his sister, asking me to be on the
lookout for Italian earrings to add
to her collection of old jewels. So
from time to time l sent her what |
could find about Capri or in Naples,
and she responded with neat little
letters of acknowledgment.
Two years 1 stayed on Capri. eating
the lotus which grows on that happy
island and painting very little. But
even on Capri people sometimes hear
the call of Paris, so there came at last
a fine day when l, knowing that the
horse chestnuts were in bloom along
the Champs Elysees, threw my rope
soled shoes to a beggar, packed
rusty trunk and was off for the banks
of the Seine.
At the end of a fortnight 1 went
over into Normandy and deposited
that rusty trunk of mine in corner
of the summer pavilion in the court
yard of Nine. -Brossard's inn, Les Trois
Pigeons, in a woodland neighborhood
that is there. Here l had painted
through prolific summer of my youth,
and l was glad to find, as l had hoped,
nothing changed, for the place was
dear to me- Nine. Brossard dark,
thin, demure as of yore, fine looking
woman with a fine manner and much
the flavor of old Norman portraits
gave me a pleasant welcome, remem-
bering me readily, but without sur
prise, while Amedee, the antique servi-
tor, cackled over me and was as proud
of my advent as if I had been a new
egg and he had laid me. The smile
is grotesque, but Amedee is the most
henlike waiter in France.
He is a white haired, fat old fellow,
always well shaved, as neat as a bill
lard ball. In the daytime, when he
is partly porter, he wears a black tie,
a gray waistcoat broadly striped with
scarlet. ard from waist to feet white
apron like a skirt and so cOmpetently
encircling that his trousers are of mere
conventionality and no real necessity,
but after o'clock becoming altogeth-
er a maitre d'hoteD he is clad as any
other formal gentleman.
Amedee's suggestions as to my re-
past were deferential, but insistent
His manner was that of prime min
lister who goes through the farm of
convincing the sovereign. He greeted
each of his own decisions with a very
loud "Bienr" as if startled by the bril-
liancy of my selections, and, the menu
being concluded, exploded whole vol
ley of ''Biens' and set off violently to
instruct old CASTOR, the cook.
The inn itself is gray with age, the
roof sagging pleasantly here and there,
and an old wooden gallery runs the
length of each wing; the guest cham
bers of the upper story opening upon
it like the deck rooms of a steamer,
with boxes of tulips and hyacinths
along the gallery ratings and window
lodges for the gayest of border lines.
In the course of time and we'll with
in the bright twilight Amedee spread
the crisp white cloth and served me at
a table on my pavilion porch. He
feigned anxiety lest l should find GER
tain dishes Chose which he knew were
most delectable) not to my taste, but
was obviously SO distended with fatu-
Gus pride over the whole meal that it
became temptation to denounce at
least some trifing sauce or garnish-
ment. Nevertheless so much mendacity
proved beyond me, and 1 spared him
and my own conscience. The salad
prepared and the water bubbling in
the coffee machine, he favored me with
a discourse on the decline in glory of
Les Trois Pigeons.
Monsieur, it is the automobiles
They have done it. Formerly, as when
monsieur was here, the painters came
from Paris. What busy times and
what drolleries! All, it was gay in
those days! Monsieur remembers we'll.
Ha, ha! But now, think, the auto
mobiles have frightened away the
painters.
81 should have said that we should
be happier if we had many like mon
sieur," went on Amedee. "But it is
early in the season to despair. Then,
too, our best suit is already engaged"
"By whom?'
1.-TWO men of science who arrive
next week. One is a great man. Nine.
Brossard is pleased that he is coming
to Les Trois Pigeons, but I tell her it
is only natural. He comes now for the
first time because he likes the quiet"
'Who is the great man, Amedee?"
"Ah! A distinguished professor of
science, truly. He is member of the
institute. Monsieur must have heard
of that great Professor Keredec?'
"'The name is known. Who is the
other?''
ga friend Of his. do not know. All
the upper floor of the east wing they |
have taken-the grand suit-those two |
and their valet de chambre. That is
truly the way in modern times-the |
philosophers are rich men,
ssYeS.n ] sighed "Onlv the nainters |