Evening star., 1933-07-16

"It Is nothing more or less than cassoulet,"
her husband explained 1T is pronounced
porquinbinnes."
AT only francs per head" said the wife,
lost already in more practical considerations,
I'VE shall net 5000 francs a month. Auguste!"
She fell on his neck.
Auguste began to walk up and down.
by the way the mayor made a suggestion
today. He said that after dinner the tourists
might like to see some Of the curiosties of the
neighborhood. And my dear Julie. there are
none-except possibly. the five-legged calf Of
Papa Louvet."
Then said Julie. 1--WE shall make something
have it. The tomb Of the elephant!"
What elephant"
"The Elephant Mort, imbecile! Since he is
dead, he must have tomb VOLTA! You will
choose a nice spot, not too far away and there
Claude and Eugene will make heap Of stones
But big heap! BY July it will be covered with
moss and have a proper air Of antiquity. II
necessary we will plant moss"
Auguste looked at his wife admiringly. Julie!
Come to my arms
II can see you," she murmured, nesting on
his shoulder, "in q green plaid mountaineer's
suit and hat with feather in it. leading the
tourists. Green stockings. Mon homme!'
! last motor bus had departed on that mem
orable opening day Auguste and Julie sat down
to go over the accounts.
Guests, 81; receipts. 1,940 francs; net profits,
388 francs" Julie announced. She looked fondly
at her husband.
"Plus 40 visitors to the tomb at 1 franc
apiece" Auguste added emptying his pockets.
Curious" said his wife pensively. Il noticed
that the 40 visitors you took to the tomb were
nearly all young girls"
"And so intelligent" Auguste exclaimed
rashly. $50 charming!" He cuxled his mus
tache with one hand. Il have been thinking,
he said, "as the tomb is such q success, ask
myself-would it not be better for me to de-
vote my time to that? Should not leave the
kitchen to Claude?"
It is sad to have to record the degradation OF
q genius like Auguste Boule, but the truth is,
that the cancer of worldly success spread rap
idly in his soul During the first few days he
found time to go into the kitchen now and then
and guide Claude in the more subtle difficulties
of his profession but more and more, Julie
remarked sadly, he devoted himself to the
younger and more beautiful members Of the
Culture Caravans
The measure of his artistic collapse may be
judged by the fact that in the first week Of
August he tasted dish Of porquinbinnes pre-
pared by his ex-waiter and pronounced it ex-
cellent.
1T is VILE" his wife said. There were many
complaints today. Many. And it isn't the first
day, either. The leader Of the last caravan
informed me that he would denounce you to the
mayor of Boston. His clients were enraged"
"Bah The old maids perhaps. Not the
younger girls
"Auguste, implore you. Be serious. It ap-
pears that in Boston they have the speciality
of pork and beans. Your reputation IS at stake.
As favor to me, return to the kitchen. Pre-
pare the Porqunbinnes yourself"
"And who would show them the tomb?" he
asked sternly.
"Claude?" she suggested timidly.
"That imbecile?"
Darling to please me-"
He knit his brows. $50. I see. It isn't the
cooking that worries you. No. Shall tell
you? You are Jealous"
I" II, 80 Ii ; }3fs,s. -f., ~