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coloring to the view — a thoughtful youth
and a Venetian woman in a red gown.

The wall candelabra are supported by
dragons in old Chinese porcelain, the blue
tone of which is repeated by the fire-screen
of Gobelin tapestry, splendidly set in a
frame of carved wood.

But the physiognomy of this salon
would not be told if one forgot the superb
partition screens of antique stuffs which
form private comers in the big apartment.
One of them, yellow and gold silk em-
broidered on a ground of velvet, recalls the
unwearying patience of the women of the
past, when the weaver's art had not yet
turned to fabrication and transformed our
objects of furniture into heavy industrial

Here at last is the Blue Salon, which
serves as the boudoir of the duchess and
recalls to her mind the time when, a dili-
gent young girl, she herself made the de-
signs and then embroidered the panels
which ornament the hangings of this salon,
the Chinese decoration of which is very
curious and elegant.

In the present room the chairs condone

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tf the last apartment. All are of
e of Louis XV or Louis XVI. There

a comer sofa in ancient Chinese
i old-rose embroidery ; also, a little
chair on which perhaps a dauphin
at. Then there is an adorable little
n Louis XV carved wood, with the
: the period. Just as we reach it the
)f a poodle waked from sleep pops
this hiding-place ; let us not deplore
te of Toutou!

3r the princess's boudoir comes her
jer. One might think that one was
ng a Byzantine church. Roman ar-
, oak and gold with a ground of
c, run along the frieze, and the ceiling,
he doors, offers an example of the
and heavy decoration which flour-

during the reigns of the emperors
jnstantinople. It must be confessed
:he general look of this room is a little
ing in harmony,
le park is one of the marvels of Paris.

designed in the French style and
, after the English garden, in a "per-
tive" representing a Louis XVI ro-
la, surmounted by a long terrace to
:h one attains by a double stairway of
ble decorated with statues and designs,
indiscreet look can penetrate that wide
anse. Far off behind the " perspective "
trees on the Boulevard des Invalides

to the illusion, with the golden dome
he Invalides recalling vaguely the fa/>is
( at Versailles.


IE rises to the grand reception apart-
:nts on the first floor by a suite of two
stibules placed on the right of the court
honor. Let us go quickly past the
lumns of the ancient statues, the vases
icorated with mythological scenes, and
cend the thirty-five steps of the splendid
arble stair, all of one piece. This stair is
le triumph of the noble Louis XVI style,
ith its ceiling decked with rose-shaped
maments, its pillars supporting a sculp-
ired lintel,— a veritable lace work,— and
[le two galleries with balustrades which
ence the stair-well, itself adorned with
lesigns from the hunt and of music, with
narble statuettes, immense supports for
:andelabra, children bearing torch-holders,
md busts of Roman emperors perched on
:heir tall porphyry stands. Seven uncom-

monly large windows throw a flood of
light on this truly regal interior.

There begins the suite of five large
salons for receptions, in white and gold,
the overpowering decoration of which, too
rich and too heavy, was designed by Baron
Hope. He considered the delicate mold-
ings of Louis XVI, the time of the Prin-
cess of Monaco, too meager, and spent
several millions of francs in this work of
vandalism. Lucl^ily two precious medal-
lions by Largilliere, princesses with charm-
ing faces, were preserved during these
changes: they are let into the wall and
surmount two chimneypieces. Beautiful
tapestries ornament the panels: one of
them, a "Judgment of Solomon," is a
Gobelins admirably designed and in fine
condition. On the floor are rugs from the
old royal looms at the Savonnerie.

Two galleries of colossal size occupy the
ends of the palace. To the right is the Salle
des Fetes, overspread with gold, having
Ionic pilasters and big chandeliers of rock-
crystal. One may see in a comer the
superb desk of Ferdinand VII, in walnut,
decorated with bronzes, chimeras, and
vases, and surmounted by a clock which
is a part of it. It comes from Valengay.
To the left is the dining-room reserved
for gala dinners. About the massive wal-
nut table one hundred and fifty banqueters
can seat themselves at ease. The walls
are clothed with red and yellow marbles
inlaid with black, which harmonize with
an immense East Indian tapestry and a
severe chimneypiece in Empire style.
But the marvelous thing here is the mag-
nificent series of medallions by Oudry,
alternately oval and rectangular, which
make a frieze along the ceiling. The great
painter of animals of the eighteenth cen-
tury is found here in his full force — his
//art, his profound feeling for decoration,
and his warm coloring.


The Princess of Sagan has an original and
inventive mind. It appears in its full vigor
in the surprises which she liked to give her
guests. Perhaps the one concerning which
people still talk most was the famous " Ball
of the Beasts."

On the 2d of June, 1885, you are begged
to choose from Buffon a Costume or a Head.

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This meager notice, in the guise of an
invitation, ran beneath a delightful vignette,
signed D^taille, representing the entrance
to a ball at a fair, with the inscriptions :

One animal i franc

One animal and his lady .... 2 francs

The crowd in front of the door was
large, and here and there one saw a lot of
guests of both sexes— a cock and a stork,
an elephant and a cat, etc.

What prodigies of diplomacy, what in-
trigues and efforts, were made to obtain
one of these little paper requests! But
also what cries of anger! What indigna-
tion, true or false, was not let loose ! The
socialist papers seized upon the new idea
of the princess, and with regard to the cos-
tumes made certain remarks and witticisms
easy to imagine. The more courteous were
in the following style :

We hear from a reliable source that the
Prince de X. will sport a calf *s head.

Or else :

The Marquise de Z. will appear as a turkey ;
that will scarcely make much change in her.

But that was not all. Serious persons
remarked that the festival would take
place the very day after the funeral of
Victor Hugo, and people thought they saw
in this ball an improper manifestation. But
the most curious of all was the attitude of
those whom we call " kill-joys"— the papers
of the uncompromising legitimists. They
reproached the princess bitterly for her
taste for grand receptions "beneath the
tyranny of the Republic,*' and especially
the choice of such costumes for an enter-
tainment that year. The aristocracy dis-
guised as animals ! Was it not the end of
the world ?

But, in spite of these criticisms, the ball
took place, and it was a marvel of origi-
nality and dash.

Astonishment began at the foot of the
grand stair, which was guarded by sixty
footmen bearing the arms of Talleyrand;
for from the bottom one could see at the top
of the steps, beneath a cluster of electric
lights, the Princess of Sagan audaciously
costumed as a peacock, entirely haloed
about by great gold and silver plumes and
aigrets, against a dark-blue and old-rose
ground, all gleaming with precious stones

on her hair, her shoulders, her entire
gown. As her guests arrived and bowed
before her, the bird of Juno spread, by the
action of a concealed spring, a grand pea-
cock tail of many colors, which, as it fell
again, formed about her a cloud of spark-
ling stars.

By the side of the mistress of the house,
assisting to receive the guests, was Mon-
sieur de Buffon himself (Baron Seilli^re),
in the classic garb of the castellan of Mont-
bard- embroidered sleeves, frilled front,
and round-curled wig. The solemn man
was almost out of place in that astonishing
zoological procession which filed past into
the drawing-rooms. Oh, what fairylike
birds from the isles were they that chirped
and chattered in every comer — hum-
ming-birds tinted with emerald hues, birds
of paradise with garb of rubies, insects
that touch and go, ibises the color of the

Some costumes less striking were in
vivid contrast to these. For there were to
be seen a tigress (Baroness de Rothschild),
an owl (Comtesse de Chevign^e), a bat
(Baroness de Salignac-F^nelon), a crow
(Marquis de Barbentane), a duck, many
ducks, a whole flock of ducks— Counts
de St. Pierre, de B^thune, de Gargon. Sin-
gular taste! It would be supeiSuous to
entimerate all the cocks which shook their
wings at that ball— they could not be
counted. There was even one lady dressed
as a grouse-cock (Madame Michel Eph-
russi). Very original she looked in
an orange-tinted tulle gown all sewed
over with big, dark wings, and with a
charming little grouse-cock in her hair,
perched saucily among the gleams of her

The prize for original costume fell by
right to the Comtesse de Gontant, who
came as a donkey — yes, actually as a
donkey— unless, indeed, the first prize be
claimed by the Vicomtesse de Lausac
travestied as a lobster, or by Madame
Henry Schneider as a serpent, or else
by Madame de Moniwet as the Ocean
—a vision of vaporous blue tulle, over
which fell fish-nets full of fish and dec-
orations of seaweed and branches of

Here is a comment on the ball, which
we have had the good fortune to discover
in an old copy of the " Intransigeant " of

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Dra.M, I.) .\.( .,-u

..1 l.s li. L>.i.u


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Such an exhibition authorizes the Darwinian
theories as to the descent of man. Why should
noblemen and noblewomen be angry when
they are told that they descend from animals,
since, without any necessity for doing so, they
themselves return to their origin ? As to their
more recent ancestors, the knights who won
their coats of arms with blows of the sword,
what a surprise would have been in store for
them if they could have risen from their cen-
turied dust and heard men say, pointing to
these insects, these ducks, these donkeys:
" There are your descendants ! "

They were clad in iron : their descendants
cover themselves with feathers and hair. With-
out doubt, some of these disguised nobles de-
scend from the barbarian leaders, who also
marched clad in the skins of beasts. But the
bears and wolves whose bloody hides were
bound about their giant bodies had been killed
by them— strangling them to death with their
hands, just as Hercules would. To-day, O
people, thou art Hercules !

Madame de Sagan of course never made
any reply to these sarcasms— or rather yes,
she did, by giving that grand kirmess for
charity, the recollection of which is still in

memory of all those privileged ones who
amused themselves joyously for several
hours at the Hotel Monaco, and those of
the lowly and poor over whom the pro-
ceeds from the festival descended in a
beneficent rain of gold. In order to bring
more money into the cash-box for the poor
the princess had imposed upon herself a
sacrifice hard for a hostess to make : she
had opened wide the doors of her hdtel
and said to all her friends, as also to the
passers-by in Paris : " Enter, whomever
you may be, known or unknown, rich or
little in fortune, snobs or the merely curi-
ous! Great miseries wnll be succored by
your simple act. Enter! it costs only ten
francs ! *'

Her appeal was heard. The crowd,
eager to see the interior, entered the palace
in masses. It amused itself, spent money,
pushed itself into the theaters established
in the open air, and played the lottery and
other ingenious games at the booths of the
aristocratic saleswomen and the buflFets
served by noble ladies.

l-rom a photoijraph


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Frotii a photo^rapli


The next day the princely park was
and all ravaged, trod under foot, with-
t one flower ; but a great number of
vels and lodgings "flourished" with a

little good fortune, and there were many
children who dried their tears.

It was the last festival at the Hotel



THE yellow fox-
Has his bed in the rocks;
The brown bird, in the tret*
Her nest has she ;
Rut the wind, come fortli
Of south and north,
Of east and west,
Where shall he rest ?

'J'he snake, the eft.
Slips into the cleft ;
The marmot sleeps sound
In the underground;
Hut the wind of the hill
Is wandering still ;
And the wind of the sra,
When sleepeth he ?

'I'he clouds of the air,
They slumber there ;
Flowers droop the head,
And the leaves lie dead ;
But the wind, the wind.
What rest shall he find ?
When shall he roam
The wild road home ?

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Drawn by F. E. Scboonover. Half-tone plate engraved by H. Davidson

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was bright
lies rested
the upper
n, he took
lopped his
opal blue ;
above the
and genial

e dazzling
lit and sag
sinking on
?ath. His
1 his feet,
m bulged
d morning
ly, keenly,
ck on his
' pop-pop I
ble. Jules
[ his eyes,
e a dozen
over the
5ome vone
the fright-
ened animals were close to him, their heads
thrown high, their little tails straight up,
and their long legs twinkling as the herd
sped by with even, graceful trot. One
staggered a little, swayed, but kept on
bravely with the rest. Jules's sharp eyes
saw the flecks of blood on its hind quarter.
" By gar ! Ah get dat caribou ! " he said

He threw the bag hastily over his shoul-
ders, and stuck the muffler in a pocket;
then, cap in hand, he left the clump and
started off at great speed after the fleeing
animals, which were again specks on the
horizon beyond him.

Shortly afterward, from the white no-
thingness out of which the caribou had
come, a larger speck appeared, and trav-
eled nearly as fast as they had. It grew

into a sledge and seven dogs, and on the
sledge was a Hudson Bay Company trap-
per, Lavalle. "Mush — ei-i!" his voice
sounded weakly in space. As the outfit
swung past the place where Jules had
stopped, Lavalle caught sight of the wide
tracks on the soft crust. He checked his
dogs and tumbled from the sledge.

"C'est Verbaux," he said to himself.
" Les autres dey tol' to me hees shoe-mark,
an' dat 's eet certainement."

He examined the tracks at his feet care-
fully. They were wide and short, and the
toe-bar indentation was high on the front ;
the lacings were of broad, thick bands, as
the trail plainly showed, and the front of
the snow-shoe turned in slightly.

"Ah vould lak' b'en to catch heem,"
Lavalle said longingly, and walked up on
the snow clump, looking about. " He ees
gon' 'way; mais Tritou he come aftaire
me dam' queeck, and to-mor* ve go catch
Verbaux," he muttered. Then seeing the
single dot disappear to the northward,
"Voiljl mon woun' caribou!" he cried,
and, leaping down to the sledge, hurried
the dogs on and forgot about Jules.

The team raced ahead across the soften-
ing snow ; the sledge-runners sank in often
with a scrunch, and Lavalle would lift the
body up and then go on. As they passed
over a rise in the barren, he looked for-
ward carefully, but saw nothing of the
wounded caribou.

"He fall some place not far," he said
to himself, and kept the dogs to their
work. The country was more level here
for several miles, and when the sledge
approached the next hill he stopped the
team at the foot of it, and, rifle in hand,
stole noiselessly up the side ; then, drop-
ping to his hands and knees, crept on, and
peered over the top.

In the little gully on the other side lay

Digitized by




a dead caribou, and bending over it was a
tall man who was rapidly stripping the
skin from the steaming body.

Lavalle ducked his head quickly at the
imexpected sight in the gully, and lay on
the snow, thinking.

" Dat ees Verbaux, certainement. Ah
get heem et le caribou, by gar ! Dat mag-
nifique ! Ah go leetle furdaire halong, an'
mak* good shoot."

He slid down the hillside a few yatds,
then worked his way to the top again, push-
ing the rifle slowly along the crust. Just
below him, Jules had finished the skinning,
and was deftly unjointing the caribou's
quarters. Lavalle shoved the rifle carefully
in . front of his eyes, took aim between
Verbaux's broad shoulders, and pulled
the trigger.

Jules heard a dull explosion, and
dropped instantly by the caribou carcass ;
then, looking up slowly, he saw on the
hilltop near by a man writhing and rolling
as if in agony. He watched several min-
utes: the man's contortions grew less;
finally he lay spasmodically kicking.

" He try keel Jules," said Verbaux, as
he stood up and advanced warily toward
the prostrate figure. It was no sham, and
Jules uttered an exclamation of disgust at
what he saw. Lavalle, in creeping along
the hillside, had unwittingly plugged the
rifle-barrel heavily with wet snow; and
when, after taking aim at Jules, he had
fired, the barrel had exploded, and the
breech-block had "blown back" in his
face. The heavy bolt had torn away one
cheek, and the raw flesh lay gaping on the
jaw-bone ; Lavalle's forehead was pierced
and gashed in several places by bits of
the shell, and a jagged rip in the skull over
the left temple showed where a piece of
metal had forced its way through the skin.
The gim itself lay a few feet off, dismantled
and useless.

" Dat good for so ; you try to keel me,"
said Jules, thoughtfully, as he watched the
twitchings of the torn and distorted fea-
tures. "Jules go now."

He turned and left the hill and its re-
pulsive occupant. He cut strips from the
caribou hide, and with them fastened a
quarter of meat on his back, and another
over his chest, to balance the weight ; then,
taking the skin under his arm, he started
on. When he had gone a little way he
stopped and looked back at the shape lying

on the reddened snow. He stood motion-
less for several minutes, then he threw oE
his load.

"Bah! Jules Verbaux, you got vone
too beeg heart ! " he said to himself sarcas-
tically as he wept back to the wounded
man. He tore long pieces from his own
shirts, and skilfully laid the ragged fiesh
of the cheek in its place, fastening it there
with the cloth ; the slit in the skull he drew
together with rough care, and pinned the
flaps of loose skin with a bit of wood which
he sharpened and cleaned with his knife
for the purpose. Then he gently pricked
out the steel pieces that he could see
embedded in Lavalle's face. The semi-
conscious man moved, and muttered in-
coherently, "Ah go-in' ke-e-el Ver-baux
now," and he feebly threw up his arms as
though holding a gun. The flesh around
the eyes was so swollen that he coxild not
open them, and he lay there whispering
and tossing.

" How he comme so queeck, hein ? "
thought Jules to himself; then he took
Lavalle's back trail and found the sledge ;
the dogs were asleep in a warm mass. He
straightened their harness and drove the
team up to the wounded man, picked him
off the snow like a feather, and stretched
him carefully on the boards of the sledge,
lashing him securely. The dogs went on,
Jules holding a trace so that the speed
should not be too great. At the bottom of
the hill he gathered the quarters of meat
and the skin, and secured them on the
sledge at Lavalle's feet. Then " Mush !
Allez ! " he shouted, and the team scam-
pered on, he following swiftly, controlling
their speed by a long thong fastened to
one of the sledge-runners. Over hill and
across flat they went, hour after hour, till
they reached the forest-land. Here Jules
swerved the dogs to the northeast, and
kept on.

Lavalle became more conscious, and
struggled against the thongs that tied him
fast; then he began to whimper, and the
tears forced themselves through the puffed
eyelids and ran down over his ears. Jules
paid no attention, and they traveled on.
The afternoon grew dark, a breeze sprang
up, and in a little while veils of mist un-
folded themselves over the barrens, and
Jules pulled out his muffler, winding it
round his neck as he strode along. The
mist became heavier and, changed into a

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chill rain that soaked rapidly through the
wounded man's clothes.

*' Ah 'm co-or, co-oF ! " he sobbed ; and
Jules took off his own caribou jacket, and
covered Lavalle with it, tucking the cor-
ners under the lashings so that it should
not be blown away.

The country sloped gradually upward,
and at last the top of the long rise was
reached. Jules stopped the team, and
looked back. The bare, rolling, white dis-
tances were blurred by the falling rain ;
the air was damp and had a bitter edge of
cold to it ; overhead masses of gray scud
and blue-black clouds hurried past, and
the wind yowled intermittently across the
hilltop. Nothing living was in sight.
Lavalle muttered and cried, and the dogs
panted. Jxiles gazed long and thoroughly
about him, then he started the team on,
turning sharply to the right.

In an hour the timber came in view, and
in a few minutes they plunged into its
shadows. Soon a little clearing appeared,
and in the center of it was a hut. It looked
lonely and minute, nestling among the giant
spruce and pine. Jules halted the outfit
at the door, and, gently untying Lavalle,
he carried him inside and laid him on some
boughs; the dogs he unharnessed and
turned loose, and he took the meat, skin,
and other things from the sledge into his
little home. With pine chips and dry
branches he built a fire on the tiny hearth ;
the slight smoke drifted about the room
for a moment, then, feeling the strength of
the draft through the round hole in the
roof, it hiuried out, as though glad to be

" L'eau ! Wat' ! " the wounded man was
articulating painfully, and Jules filled a
pannikin with snow, melted it over the
flames, and held it to Lavalle's lips. The
sick man could not open them enough to
drink, and he began to cry again. Jules
took up a wind-cured pelt from a pile of
skins, twisted it into a stiff horn, and care-
fully forced the small end between the
bruised and cut lips, and poured in a thin
stream of water. Lavalle's throat rose and
fell as he swallowed, and he shook his
head a little when he had had enough.
" Merci ! " he whispered, and sank into
semi-consciousness again.

It was dark outside. The dogs were
growling and snapping over the meat Jules
had thrown to them. The wind made the

trees creak and groan, and the rain had
turned to snow. It was growing colder,
and when Jules opened the bark door ^
stinging blast whirled in, eddying the ashes
about the fire and causing the woimded
man in the comer to shiver.

Verbaux cut some caribou steaks, and
set them in a frying-pan on the fire; he
dropped a little tea in the pannikin, and
built up the blaze ; then he sat near it and
waited, llie fire shone on his face ruddily,
and the flames leaped and danced by re-
flection in the gray eyes. The hut was
quiet, save for the crackling of the pine
sticks and the raucous breathing of La-
valle. Soon the steaks began sizzling, and
the odor of frying meat filled the little inte-
rior. Outside the wind had increased, and
it sirened now loud, now softly across the
open hole overhead. Every now and then
Jules mechanically turned the meat, his
eyes on the fire in a curious set stare. Then
he ate his supper slowly, decisively, sip-
ping the black tea and munching the heavy
bread in great mouthfuls, his big white
teeth gleaming between the strong, healthy
lips at each bite. When he had finished
he set the pan aside, leaving'the pannikin
with its remnants of tea near the heat ; he
put more wood on the fire, and drew a
blanket up to it, filled his pipe, lighted it,
and sat down, nursing his knees in his
hands, his head swaying to and fro. La-
valle's breathing was more quiet and regu-
lar, and the loudest sound in the hut'was
the iki\Q)L puff 'puff— puff 'Phooooo — as Jules
exhaled clouds of smoke from his lips.

The red light flickered strangely over

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