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About nine o'clock, with a silken rustling, arrive the three geishas in vogue in Nagasaki: Mesdemoiselles Purete, Orange, and Printemps, whom I have hired at four dollars each an enormous price in this country. These three geishas are indeed the very same little creatures I heard singing on the rainy day of my arrival, through the thin panelling of the Garden of Flowers.
As the Emperor passed through Agen, there was presented to him a brave fellow named Printemps, over a hundred years old, who had served under Louis XIV., XV., and XVI., and who, although bending beneath the weight of many years and burdens, finding himself in the presence of the Emperor, gently pushed aside two of his grandsons by whom he had been supported, and exclaimed almost angrily that he could go very well alone.
Behind him the violin was telling of the springtime; from the garden came the smell of the syringas; the young man's desire was toward a woman. "Is she playing her harp to-night? is she playing to Ludwell Cary?" "Belle saison de ma jeunesse Beaux jours du printemps!" sang the violin. A shot sounded near the house.
Men with long beards, carrying torches, measures of wine, and two drinking-cups, which they knocked together with a great noise, went along, arm in arm, shouting in chorus with rude voices an old round of the League: "Reprenons la danse; Allons, c'est assez. Le printemps commence; Les rois sont passes. "Prenons quelque treve; Nous sommes lasses. Les rois de la feve Nous ont harasses.
Crane might well have been taken into her confidence, subsequent to the sinking of the Assyrian, and on discovering that Lanyard had survived have used this means of relieving the girl's distress of mind. But its significance?... "Au Printemps" translated literally meant "in the springtime," and "in the springtime at one o'clock" was mere gibberish, incomprehensible.
"L'éphemère idole, au frisson du printemps, Sentant des renouveaux éclorent, Se guèpa de satins si lointains et d'antan: Rose exilé des flores! Le jardin rima ses branches de lilas; Aux murs, les roses tremières; La terre étala, pour fêter les las, Des divans vert lumière;
Miss Van Tuyn had joined in, and had given her view on Le Sacre du Printemps, The Nightingale, and other works. Arabian had sat smoking in discreet silence, till she had said to him bluntly: "Do you care about music?" And then Arabian had said that he was very fond of music, and played and sang a little himself, but that he had been too lazy to study seriously and had an uneducated ear.
Another day it was the automobile delivery wagons of the Louvre, the Bon Marche, the Printemps, Petit-Saint-Thomas, La Belle Jardiniere, Potin all the automobiles with which you are so familiar in the streets of Paris. Of course those are much lighter, and came up bravely. As a rule they are all loaded.
The texture of the back-ground was not purple smoke, but rather scratchy wool. Evidently it was no longer the coat of my sad dreams. In becoming once more "la création" of the Printemps it had ceased to be the creation of my imagination. Resurrection is a dangerous thing. My coat which was once a legend is a reality again. It has travelled from fairy-land to life. Now it is a symbol.
"Reprenons la danse; Allons, c'est assez. Le printemps commence; Les rois sont passes. "Prenons quelque treve; Nous sommes lasses. Les rois de la feve Nous ont harasses. "Allons, Jean du Mayne, Les rois sont passes. "Les rois de la feve Nous ont harasses. Allons, Jean du Mayne, Les rois sont passes."
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