The puzzle is what a man like M. Brunetière will find to do in the next world. Probably he will go about to all the celebrated writers to see what they thought of his criticisms in his dearly loved Review; and then perhaps he will regret, as Herbert Spencer is said to have regretted, that he had not gone fishing oftener.
The charms of St. Malo’s suburban social colony of Paramé, such as they are, though they differ greatly from the mere attractions of nature,—for which society folk really care for only as an accessory to their more futile pleasures,—are best set forth in the following stanzas of Jehan Valter:
“PARAMÉ
“IDYLLE
“Quel est de Biarritz à Calais
Le seul bain de mer, qui jamais,
Faute de baigneurs, n’a chômé?
C’est Paramé!
“Où le soleil à l’horizon
Montre-t-il en chaque saison
Son disque toujours enflammé?
A Paramé!
“Où le froid est-il inconnu,
Où peut-on se promener nu
Sans avoir peur d’être enrhumé?
A Paramé!
“Le soir, on danse au Casino,
Non aux sons d’un mauvais piano,
Mais d’un orchestre renommé
A Paramé!
“Sur la plage on rêve d’amour,
La nuit aussi bien que le jour
Que de baigneuses ont aimé!
A Paramé!
“Est-ce l’air qui porte à la peau;
Est-ce le soleil, est-ce l’eau?
Chacun sort du bain ranimé
A Paramé!