Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 26, 2025
But two young men had taken the very seats that Madame Dufour had selected and were eating their luncheon. No doubt they were the owners of the sculls, for they were in boating costume. They were stretched out, almost lying on the chairs; they were sun-browned and their thin cotton jerseys, with short sleeves, showed their bare arms, which were as strong as a blacksmith's.
"Some fried fish, a rabbit saute, salad and dessert," Madame Dufour said, with an important air. "Bring two quarts of beer and a bottle of claret," her husband said. "We will have lunch on the grass," the girl added. The grandmother, who had an affection for cats, had been running after one that belonged to the house, trying to coax it to come to her for the last ten minutes.
Suddenly the nightingale stopped, and a voice called out in the distance: "Henriette!" "Do not reply," he said in a low voice; "you will drive the bird away." But she had no idea of doing so, and they remained in the same position for some time. Madame Dufour had sat down somewhere or other, for from time to time they heard the stout lady break out into little bursts of laughter.
This miserable wretch accused the archduke Ernest of having countenanced his attempt; but nothing whatever tends to criminate, while every probability acquits, that prince of such a participation. In this same year a soldier named Peter Dufour embarked in a like atrocious plot.
This blandly and without a sign that I was conscious of Dufour's stupefaction for his vanity made him believe that the god the great Dufour knelt to must be the god of gods. There is no more important branch of the art of successful dealing with men than the etiquette of who shall call upon whom.
By and by they heard a noise behind a bush, and the stout lady appeared, looking rather confused, and her companion's face was wrinkled with smiles which he could not check. Madame Dufour took his arm, and they returned to the boats, and Henri, who was ahead, walked in silence beside the young girl. At last they got back to Bezons.
Young Spohr was placed under the tuition of Dufour, a French emigré of the days of '91, who was an excellent player, though not a professional, then living at the town of Seesen, the home of the Spohr family; and under him the boy made very rapid progress.
By and by they heard a noise behind a bush, and the stout lady appeared, looking rather confused, and her companion's face was wrinkled with smiles which he could not check. Madame Dufour took his arm, and they returned to the boats, and Henri, who was ahead, walked in silence beside the young girl. At last they got back to Bezons.
Monsieur Dufour, who was now sober, was waiting for them very impatiently, while the young man with the yellow hair was having a mouthful of something to eat before leaving the inn. The carriage was waiting in the yard, and the grandmother, who had already got in, was very frightened at the thought of being overtaken by night before they reached Paris, as the outskirts were not safe.
Daring, keen, sarcastic, learned, the little tract retains to-day so much of its pungency, that we can hardly wonder at the honest simplicity of the author's friend and biographer, Madame Gacon Dufour, who declared that he must be partially insane, and proceeded to prove herself so by replying to him.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking