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Updated: May 21, 2025
Lavinia tried to get away without notice, but the Bacchante's escort was too numerous, too aggressive, too closely packed. They hoped for some fun after their own tastes. "Mercy on me," muttered Gay apprehensively, "that impudent hussy, Sally Salisbury. And drunk too. This means trouble. Dick," he whispered hurriedly to Leveridge, "you can use your fists if need be.
The accacuas are swinging their silver censers under the green roof of these wood temples; every stump is like a classical altar to the sylvan gods, garlanded with flowers; every post, or stick, or slight stem, like a Bacchante's thyrsus, twined with wreaths of ivy and wild vine, waving in the tepid wind.
He was singing one of Victor's triolets which the poet had joined to music: "When Ma'm'selle drinks from her satin shoe, I drink the wine from her radiant eyes; And we sit in a casement made for two When Ma'm'selle drinks from her satin shoe With a Bacchante's love for a Bacchic brew!
The orders for the conflagration of public edifices bore the stamp of the Commune and that of the Central Committee of the National Guard; also the seal of the war delegate. For private houses less ceremony was used. Some of these tickets were square, others oval, with a Bacchante's head upon them. A pétroleuse was to receive ten francs for every house which she set on fire.
A pleasant pastime it was, this worldly lessoning; but I forgot that he was partly a reproduction of his Catholic mother; that where I stood rugged he would fall; that he did not possess ardor that is without fire, love that is without sentiment. . . ." A maudlin voice took up the Chevalier's song . . . "When Ma'm'selle drinks from her satin shoe With a Bacchante's love for a Bacchic brew!"
It is to be regretted, but I never had a portrait of your mother." The roisterers burst into song again . . . . "When Ma'm'selle drinks from her satin shoe With a Bacchante's love for a Bacchic brew!" How this rollicking song penetrated the ominous silence which had suddenly filled the salon! The Chevalier grew rigid.
It is not to be supposed that the flying squadron could be permitted to leave for England without the usual challenges for boating contests being thrown out. We, of course, came in for the lion's share of their attacks. A match was pulled, in which our green galley came in the victor; then a second, in which the "Bacchante's" cutter beat our crack boat.
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