Par la plaine et par la montagne!
Passe, comme la plume au vent!
Comme le son de ta mandore!
Comme un flot qui baise en rêvant,
Les flancs d’une barque sonore!
The proprietor of one of the hotels now very much in vogue sent me the following letter, which I quote word for word:
“Madame,—If you would consent to dine every evening for a month in our large dining-room, I would place at your service a suite of rooms on the first floor, consisting of two bedrooms, a large drawing-room, a small boudoir, and a bath-room. It is of course understood that this suite of rooms would be yours free of charge if you would consent to do as I ask.—Yours, etc.
“(P.S.) You would only have to pay for the fresh supplies of plants for your drawing-room.”
This was the extent of the man’s coarseness. I asked one of my friends to go and give the low fellow his answer.
I was in despair, though, for I felt that I could not live without comfort and luxury.