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Updated: June 16, 2025


Sometimes, even, the writers stray away entirely from a religious base and produce mere roistering catches or topical songs. Such are those Marseille noëls which are nothing more than Pantagruelian lists of succulent dishes proper to Christmas time frankly ending, in one case, with the materialistic query: "What do I care for the future, now that my belly is well lined?"

He hurried at once to the palace, desirous to reach there in advance of the news; and on his return, with his ten millions in drafts on Marseille safely bestowed in his pocket-book, he passed Hemerlingue's carriage on the road, its three mules tearing along at full speed. The gaunt, owl-like face was radiant.

When at last they did come, the Romans transformed the town into a great city the metropolis of the region lying between Geneva and Marseille; and so adorned it with noble buildings temples, forum, circus, theatre, aqueducts, baths and so enriched it with all manner of works of art, that it came to be known as Vienne the Beautiful throughout the civilized world.

He did not, however, shew himself in the town, but departed on the track of the fugitives the very next day. He traced them to Ajaccio, thence to Marseille, to Nice, back to Marseille, to Paris, but there he lost the clue.

How is that? you may say, he must know vey well that he has not been to Shanghai... to be sure he knows... only.... Perhaps the time has come when we should settle the question of the reputation for lying which has been given to the people of the Midi. There are no liars in the Midi, neither at Marseille, nor Nimes, nor Toulouse, nor Tarascon. The man of the Midi does not lie, he deceives himself.

In Provençal the diminutive of saint is santoun; and it is as santouns that all the personages of the crèche including the whole of the purely human and animal contingent, and even the knife-grinding devil are known. For two centuries or more the making of clay santouns has been a notable industry in Marseille.

In the same year another influential foreigner made an unsuccessful attempt to improve the condition of the Russian Jews by emigration. A rich Jewish merchant of Marseille, named Isaac Altaras, came to Russia with a proposal to transplant a certain number of Jews to Algiers, which had recently passed under French rule.

It was a mad thing four years ago in Marseille I met a girl, a little dressmaker there. I went off my head and married her, and then a month later she ran off with a merchant chap, a Greek. I didn't care; we got on as badly as anything ... but there you are. No one knows. That's the whole thing, Maggie. I thought at first I wouldn't tell you.

Just as in the old days on the quay at Marseille. He was tempted to halt, under the influence of an old habit, but the thought of his infamous conduct, of all the injury he had inflicted on the Nabob and was still attempting to inflict on him, suddenly came to his mind with a horrible fear, amounting to frenzy, when a hand of iron brought him abruptly to a standstill.

"So," said the Abbe Gabriel, "you refuse to obey Monseigneur?" "Monseigneur is ignorant of the state of my health; he does not know that in a constitution like mine nature refuses " said Monsieur Bonnet, looking at the younger priest. "There are times when we ought, like Belzunce at Marseille, to risk certain death," replied the Abbe Gabriel, interrupting him.

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