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Updated: June 19, 2025
Poring over the bookstalls in the Place du Panthéon or the Rue des Grès hurrying along towards this or that college with a huge volume under each arm, about nine o'clock in the morning haunting the cafés at midday and the restaurants at six swinging his legs out of upper windows and smoking in his shirt-sleeves in the summer evenings crowding the pit of the Odéon and every part of the Theatre du Panthéon playing wind instruments at dead of night to the torment of his neighbors, or, in vocal mood, traversing the Quartier with a society of musical friends about the small hours of the morning getting into scuffles with the gendarmes flirting, dancing, playing billiards and the deuce; falling in love and in debt; dividing his time between Aristotle and Mademoiselle Mimi Pinson ... here, and here only, in all his phases, at every hour of the day and night, he swarmed, ubiquitous.
"Nance ast mighty particular about the lodge meetin'," observed Newt Pinson to Mr. Cullum, who headed the nocturnal expedition; "she know'd it wa'n't the regular night, an' she suspicioned sompn, Nance did." "Sissy didn't," laughed Tobe, complacently. "Sissy is that soft an' innercent an' mild that a suckin' baby could wrop her aroun' its finger much lessen me!"
"You boys neenter to be so brash," drawled Mr. Pinson's son-in-law, Sam Leggett, from his perch on a barrel of pecans; "jest you wait ontell Minty Cullum an' Loo Slater gits a tight holt! Them gals is ez meek ez lambs now. But so was Mis' Pinson an' Mis' Trimble in their day an' time, I reckon. I know Becky Leggett was." "The studdies'-goin' woman on Jim-Ned," continued Mr.
About three thousand men laid down their arms, with the usual proportion of field and company officers, besides five generals, several of them of great distinction Pinson Jarrero, La Vega, Noryuga, and Obando. "Our loss, though comparatively small in number, has been serious. Brigadier-General Shields, a commander of activity, zeal, and talent, is, I fear, if not dead, mortally wounded.
"He's that wore upon that nobody dassent to go anigh him," said Mrs. Pinson, solemnly. "An' no wonder! Fer of all the conniptions that ever struck the women o' Jim-Ned, ez wives, Sissy Cullum's conniptions air the outbeatenes'." But human endurance has its limits. Mr. Cullum's reached his at the supper-table one night about three weeks after the beginning of his discipline.
And so the beautiful roselight of Bohemia veils many a tragedy, many a treachery. Yet will the grisette be ever a gracious memory, and literature will always embalm the "Mimi Pinson" of De Musset. She is dead now, la grisette, even in Paris, and "hic jacet" may be written over the bonnet she threw pardessus les moulins. Ah, Clemence!
At least, if any one be curious to examine this story in the original, just as M. Pinson wrote it, he may search the archives of Halifax with a reasonable surety that the manuscript is as likely to be found there as anywhere else.
BRAMBLING. Fringilla montifringilla, Linnaeus. French, "Pinson d'Ardennes." "Grosbec d'Ardennes." The Brambling can only be considered an occasional autumn and winter visitant, and probably never very numerous. I have never seen the bird in the Channel Islands myself. I have, however, one specimen a female killed in Brock Road, Guernsey, in December, 1878, and I have been informed by Mr.
Leaning on his walking-cane, he made his way painfully to the Rue Saint-Honoré and entered the shop of Madame Pinson at the sign of the Panier Fleuri. Here was displayed an abundant stock of children's toys to tempt customers seeking presents for this New Year's Day of 1696.
M. Chanterelle smiled to think of the delight such a lovely doll would give Mademoiselle de Doucine, and when Madame Pinson handed him the Princess of Savoy wrapped up in silk paper, a gleam of sensuous satisfaction flitted over his kind face, pinched as it was with illness, pale with fasting and haggard with the fear of hell.
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