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Updated: May 12, 2025
If we mix ourselves up in their quarrel they will become reconciled at our expense and we shall have to pay the cost of the war. That is why, if you are guided by me, dear Agaric, you will not engage the Church in this adventure." "You know my energy; you know my prudence. I will compromise nothing. . . . Dear Cornemuse, I only want from you the funds necessary for us to begin the campaign."
Forth from out the faint perfume of this haunted drink there danced a bevy from Old France, clad in the fashion of Louis-Quinze, peach-coloured knots of ribbon bedizening apple-green velvets, as they moved in stately wise among the roses of the old garden, to the quaint music Rameau, was it? of a fairy cornemuse, while fairy Watteaus, Fragonards, Lancrets, sat and painted them.
For a long time Cornemuse refused to bear the expenses of what he thought was a fatal enterprise. Agaric was in turn pathetic and terrible. At last, yielding to his prayers and threats, Cornemuse, with banging head and swinging arms, went to the austere cell that concealed his evangelical poverty. In the whitewashed wall under a branch of blessed box, there was fixed a safe.
"Dearest Cornemuse," cried the pious Agaric, "the Pyrot affair, if pushed to the point whither we can lead it by the help of God and the necessary funds, will produce the greatest benefits. It will lay bare the vices of this Anti-Christian Republic and will incline the Penguins to restore the throne of the Draconides and the prerogatives of the Church.
And whilst the fainting princess was lifted from arm to arm to her carriage over the excited and curious crowd, the two men still fought furiously. Prince des Boscenos lost his hat, his eye-glass, his cigar, his necktie, and his portfolio full of private letters and political correspondence; he even lost the miraculous medals that he had received from the good Father Cornemuse.
They rushed impetuously from the basilica and marched along the quays to the Chamber of Deputies. Left alone in the deserted nave, the wise Cornemuse, lifting his arms to heaven, murmured in broken accents: "Agnosco fortunam ecclesiae penguicanae! I see but too well whither this will lead us." The attack which the crowd made upon the legislative palace was repulsed.
Spring has no flowers for the exile, and autumn no fruits. Prince Crucho has sound views; he respects the clergy; he practises our religion; besides, he consumes a good deal of my little products." "Cornemuse, in many homes, both rich and poor, his return is hoped for. Believe me, he will come back." "May I live to throw my mantle beneath his feet!" sighed Cornemuse.
One heard goods trains rumbling through the Wood and one saw in the sheds hundreds of orphans clothed in blue, packing bottles and nailing up cases. Agaric found the venerable Cornemuse standing before his stoves and surrounded by his retorts. The shining pupils of the old man's eyes had again become as rubies, his skull shone with its former elaborate and careful polish.
What you hear yonder is a violin and a cornemuse." "A cornemuse!" I repeated. "What's that?" "Oh, country music. A thing you blow into with your mouth, and play upon with your fingers, and squeeze under your arm like this." "Then it's the same thing, ma chère," said I. "A bagpipes and a cornemuse a cornemuse and bagpipes. Both of them national, popular, and frightful."
Agaric, standing before the wall, entreated his dearest brother to listen to him for a moment: "Understand your own interest better, Cornemuse! Penguinia is ours. What do we need to conquer it? just one effort more . . . one more little sacrifice of money and . . ." But without listening further, the monk of Conils drew in his head and closed his window.
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