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Updated: May 22, 2025
But the happiest, the most radiant, next to ourselves, were the people who came only for Jeanne's sake and mine; Sylvestre Lampron, painter-in- ordinary to Mademoiselle Charnot, bringing his pretty sketch as a wedding-present; M. Flamaran and Sidonie; Jupille, who wept as he used to "thirty years ago;" and M. and Madame Plumet, who took it in turns to carry their white-robed infant.
Really, Jupille, what are you thinking of? And I a professor, too! Thirty years ago it would have been excusable, but to-day! Besides, Sidonie expects me home to dinner " He stopped for a moment, undecided, looking at his watch. Jupille, who was eying him intently, saw his distinguished friend gradually relax his frown and burst into a hearty laugh.
Now, when he hands me a deed, instead of saying "All right," as I used to, I say, "Take a chair, Monsieur Jupille"; I shut the door, and we talk. The clerks think we're talking law, but the clerks are mistaken. Yesterday, for instance, he whispered to me: "I have come down the Rue de l'Universite. They will soon be back." "How did you learn that?"
"That shows you don't know me. Any sport?" "Not so loud! Yes, capital sport. I'll bait a line for you." "And where is your friend, Monsieur Jupille?" "There he is." "Where?" "Staring you in the face; can't you see him?".
"Above all things, tell nobody where it is!" begged Jupille. "It is our secret; I discovered it myself." When I left Sceaux to meet Jupille, who had started before daybreak, the sun was already high. There was not a cloud nor a breath of wind; the sway of summer lay over all things. But, though the heat was broiling, the walk was lovely. All about me was alive with voice or perfume.
"That shows you don't know me. Any sport?" "Not so loud! Yes, capital sport. I'll bait a line for you." "And where is your friend, Monsieur Jupille?" "There he is." "Where?" "Staring you in the face; can't you see him?".
"No, no, Jupille, I'm going to keep him," answered M. Flamaran; "I haven't uttered a syllable for three hours. I must let myself out a little. We will fish side by side, and chat." "As you please, Monsieur Flamaran; but I don't call that fishing." He handed me the implement, and sadly went his way.
Upon my word, I could see nobody, until he directed my gaze with his fishing-rod, when I perceived, ten yards away, a large back view of white trousers and brown, unbuckled waistcoat, a straw hat which seemed to conceal a head, and a pair of shirt-sleeves hanging over the water. This mass was motionless. "He must have got a bite," said Jupille, "else he would have been here before now.
He let it run for some time, to tire it, and to prolong the pleasure of playing it. "Gentlemen," he cried, "it is cutting my finger off!" A stroke from the landing-net laid the monster at our feet, its strength all spent. It weighed rather under four pounds. Jupille swore to six. My learned tutor and I sat down again side by side, but the thread of our conversation had been broken past mending.
On Sundays, on the quays by the Seine, I pick him out from the crowd intent upon the capture of tittlebats, because he is seated upon his handkerchief. I go up to him and we have a talk. "Fish biting, Monsieur Jupille?" "Hardly at all." "Sport is not what it used to be?" "Ah! Monsieur Mouillard, if you could have seen it thirty years ago!" This date is always cropping up with him.
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