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Updated: June 2, 2025


I shall have to expel him soon, I fear." Says she, 'Charge up in dem yaller pines, And slay dem Yankee Philistines!" ending with the invariable "Bon jour," or "Bienvenu, compatriote" and demoniac "Ha! ha! ha!" "The memory of the creature is perfectly wonderful," I said. "Many parrots have I seen, but never one like this before. It must have sprung out of the Arabian Nights."

Yon sink bickause I make a little playfool wiz zis tin pan zat I am dhonk?" "Oh, no, Bienvenu, old fellow, you're all right. I was afraid you might not know that old Poquelin was sick, you know, but you're not going there, are you?" "My fwang, I vay soy to tail you zat you ah dhonk as de dev'. I am shem of you. I ham ze servan' of ze publique.

Zese citoyens goin' to wickwest Jean Poquelin to give to the Ursuline' two hondred fifty dolla'" " quoi!" cried a listener, "Cinq cent piastres, oui!" "Oui!" said Bienvenu, "and if he wiffuse we make him some lit' musique; ta-ra ta!" He hoisted a merry hand and foot, then frowning, added: "Old Poquelin got no bizniz dhink s'much w'isky."

For Monseigneur Miollis of Digne is truly Monseigneur Bienvenu of "Les Misérables," and only the soldier of Waterloo was glorified in Jean Valjean.

At the sound which he made in walking, the old man turned his head, and his face expressed the sum total of the surprise which a man can still feel after a long life. "This is the first time since I have been here," said he, "that any one has entered here. Who are you, sir?" The Bishop answered: "My name is Bienvenu Myriel." "Bienvenu Myriel? I have heard that name.

His correspondence with the other brother, the ex-prefect, a fine, worthy man who lived in retirement at Paris, Rue Cassette, remained more affectionate. Thus Monseigneur Bienvenu also had his hour of party spirit, his hour of bitterness, his cloud. The shadow of the passions of the moment traversed this grand and gentle spirit occupied with eternal things.

Monseigneur Bienvenu had formerly been, if the stories anent his youth, and even in regard to his manhood, were to be believed, a passionate, and, possibly, a violent man.

A saint who dwells in a paroxysm of abnegation is a dangerous neighbor; he might communicate to you, by contagion, an incurable poverty, an anchylosis of the joints, which are useful in advancement, and in short, more renunciation than you desire; and this infectious virtue is avoided. Hence the isolation of Monseigneur Bienvenu. We live in the midst of a gloomy society.

In reality, "these two or three millions" were reducible, as we have said, to six hundred and thirty or forty thousand francs. At the beginning of 1820 the newspapers announced the death of M. Myriel, Bishop of D , surnamed "Monseigneur Bienvenu," who had died in the odor of sanctity at the age of eighty-two.

"No, ma'am, you had it on yer arm when I noticed last," said Kate, looking startled. "Fur all the saints, I hope ye haven't lost it!" Angela, too, began to look anxious. Not only was her bag valuable worth seven or eight hundred dollars but all her money was in it, and a check-book she had brought out that morning, to pay Monsieur Bienvenu the rather large sum she owed him.

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