The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1910-01-19
there will be sale at the Bon
Marche. There will be great bar

ton of these giddy-pates or of anyone
else, the sun was still going down
with pomp and royal slowness. Now
he touched the glass dome of the Pa
lais de pIndustrie, which cleaned like
diamond mountain. The appearance
of the sky had changed. Remaining
clear toward the east, it had taken
deeper shade, while toward the west
long, violet clouds, fringed with gold,
rested motionless in depth of tur-
quoise blue.
! A big captain and slender second
lieutenant, tightly belted in their uni
forms, came from the cavalry quar-
tiers, dragging their sabres upon the
! sidewalk, and paused for moment
! on the threshold of the cafe.
I'm sure of it, captain. Lieutenant
Tardieu will be included in the Janu-
airy promotions. 1t is his turn"
very we'll; l tell you that he has
! not the seniority"
ut is very easy for us to make sure
about it. Let us consult the year.
book"
And they went into cafe, where
for some time they called for absinthe.
At that moment the sun, which was
yelled by the distant trees of the
Champs Elysees, plunged below the
horizon and suddenly darkness fell
upon everything. In few seconds
the houses and the monuments be-
came sad and gloomy, as if they had
aged hundred years. The autumn
foliage, the crests of which had just
before been still shining, now took
somber, rusty tone. The birds con
cert lasted for moment, growing
feebler, then became silent. A cold
wind blew from the north and crossed
the space before me like long sigh
of regret.
But, at the same time, in obedience
to that law which DEGREES that all
fires when they die shall give forth
brighter light, the sun, which had al
ready passed out of sight, displayed
all the wonders of the twilight in that
part of the sky where his remem-
brance still prevailed; and below,
toward the Pont de la Concorde,
above the river, grotto of precious
stones followed itself on the horizon,
making one think of those caverns in
which the Asiatic despots buried their
treasures. Round this glowing beacon
light the clouds heaped themselves up.
ceaselessly changing their shades and
their FORMS At first they had massed
themselves together, like range Of
golden mountains; then the chain had
colored islands swan in an ocean deli
cately green; but then the islands
heightened and transformed them
selves into serpents Of light, fiery
fishes; and suddenly, before one could
take note of it, other clouds had
formed, further off, to right and to
left, everywhere, outlining fugitive
phantoms. clothing themselves in hpes
which would have driven veronese to
despair, building up and hastily throw
ing down airy towers of Babel. Some
Of them were enormous, with sides
buried in the distance with architec-
tural perspectives. One great cloud.
of violet-brown, twisted itself like
crocodile, opening vast jaws, and far
above. all alone, one little cloud, pure
| as a maiden, looked like a flower
blooming in the infinite.
Then an omnibus crossed the Pont
Royal. 1t was full and whole row
of passengers on top sat directly in
front of the marvellous twilight. But
some sensational event had happened
just then-a triple assassination or
i minicforio1 orioic-orI MI <l,o.a ....s
sat reading the evening newspapers,
putting the commonplaceness Of
leading editorial or the horror Of
crime between their eyes and the sub
lime fairylands of the sunset.
The sun was conquered, but before
wholly disappearing he tried one last
effort against the indifference of the
citizens. and from the bottom of his
gulf he darted such a crimson light
that the whole landscape was on fire.
The solitudes Of the sky flushed, as II
from shame; the river flowed on in
waves of blood and of roses, and the
fronts of the houses and the faces Of
the passers-by glowed under this rosy
reflection.
| LUZ SAO U0IOr0
the Cafe d'Orsay, vainly watched the
faces, vainly listened to the scraps Of
talk of those who passed in front Of
him. There were silent artisans, go
ing home to their evening soup, bent
by toll. their eyes fixed upon the
ground; there was couple of men Of
letters about to tear colleague to
pieces; there were men of business
and financiers absorbed in mental cal
culations, dreaming of some strata
gem against their neighbours property:
there was pretty woman whose eyes
sought nothing but the caressing fat
terry of other eyes.
Not one of these beings had any
care for the sunset.
One only, man of the middle class,
who gave his arm to his wife, con-
descended to cast his eyes upon the
horizon; then he uttered these simple
words: