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Updated: June 2, 2025
People turned round to see them pass, looking so fresh and lively, dressed in their Sunday best on a week day and jostling the crowd which hung about the Rue des Poissonniers, on that warm June evening. But it was not a question of amusing themselves. They went straight to the door of each wineshop, looked in and sought amongst the people standing before the counter.
Outside the sun was scarcely rising, the pale daylight seemed dirtied by the muddy reflection of the pavement; it had rained the night before and it was very mild. The gas lamps had just been turned out; the Rue des Poissonniers, in which shreds of night rent by the houses still floated, was gradually filling with the dull tramp of the workmen descending towards Paris.
When she gazed beyond this gray and interminable wall she saw a great light, a golden mist waving and shimmering with the dawn of a new Parisian day. But it was to the Barriere Poissonniers that her eyes persistently returned, watching dully the uninterrupted flow of men and cattle, wagons and sheep, which came down from Montmartre and from La Chapelle.
As she had twice been turned out of the "Chateau Rouge" hall, she walked outside the door waiting for someone she knew to escort her inside. The "Black Ball" on the outer Boulevard and the "Grand Turk" in the Rue des Poissonniers, were respectable places where she only went when she had some fine dress on.
When the neighbors beheld her pass thus, nimble and delighted to the extent that she no longer limped, they said she must have undergone some operation. It so happened that the Boches had left the Rue des Poissonniers at the April quarter, and were now taking charge of the great house in the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or. It was a curious coincidence, all the same!
I went to another gate, but it was only at the postern gate of Poissonniers that I could get my passport signed. We were taken into a little shed which had been transformed into an office. A Prussian general was seated there. He looked me up and down, and then said: "Are you Sarah Bernhardt?" "Yes," I answered. "And this young lady is with you?" "Yes."
Father Colombe's Tavern, known as the Assommoir, was on the corners of the Rue des Poissonniers and of the Boulevard de Rochechouart. The sign bore the one single word in long, blue letters: DISTILLATION And this word stretched from one end to the other. On either side of the door stood tall oleanders in small casks, their leaves covered thick with dust.
At the corner of the Rue des Poissonniers, she sat down in the gutter thinking she was at the wash-house. The water which flowed along caused her head to swim, and made her very ill.
We will go to the theatre a moving picture show!" "Always to places in the dark, eh!" observed Bobinette maliciously. Wilhelmine and Henri were coming nearer. Juve-Vagualame turned as he was making off. "Nine o'clock, before the moving picture place, rue des Poissonniers." With that, Juve-Vagualame disappeared into a smoky wine shop.
It was the best she could get at the poulterer's in the Faubourg Poissonniers; it weighed twelve and a half pounds on the scales at the charcoal-dealer's; they had burnt nearly half a bushel of charcoal in cooking it, and it had given three bowls full of drippings. Virginie interrupted her to boast of having seen it before it was cooked.
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