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Updated: June 10, 2025
As soon as he was able to stand the travel, he was sent home on furlough, and I met him soon after his arrival at his father's house, where the people had gathered to listen to "the preaching of the word" by Elder Harrison Rowden. I well remember how we boys stood around and looked at him with wide-eyed admiration.
I suppose this trumpery was stamped upon my brain by the infinite difficulty I had in delivering it gracefully, with all the point and all the pathos the author assured me it contained, at Mrs. Rowden, surrounded by her friends and guests, and not suggesting to me the remotest idea of my mother or any body else's mother.
But neither the triumvirate nor the others had been to the "Menagerie" for over a fortnight, when Rowden, feeling it incumbent upon him to return some of Gethryn's hospitality, issued very proper cards indeed they were very swell cards for the Latin Quarter for a "dinner," to be followed by a "quiet evening" at the Bal Masque at the Opera.
She captured Clifford by suffering him to play his banjo to her piano. Rowden liked her because she was pretty and witty, though he never got used to her quiet little digs at his own respected and dignified person. Clifford openly avowed his attachment and spent many golden hours away from work, listening to her singing.
"Where are your trout?" said Colette severely. "They still live," murmured Elliott, and went fast asleep. Rowden returned shortly after, and casting a scornful glance at the slumbering one, displayed three crimson-flecked trout. "And that," smiled Hastings lazily, "that is the holy end to which the faithful plod, the slaughter of these small fish with a bit of silk and feather."
One is to tell you all the news before he has a chance. And I will begin at once. Thaxton has gone home, and opened a studio in New York. The Colossus has grown two more inches and hates to hear me mention the freak museums in the Bowery. Carleton is a hubby, and wifey is English and captivating. Rowden told me one day he was going to get married too. When I asked her name he said he didn't know.
Her residence is in a small and humble street which is kept in a perpetual process of repair by the city authorities, and from the black letters painted on the barrier which defends the street from traffic, she has taken the name by which we know her, Rue Barree. Mr. Rowden, in his imperfect knowledge of the French tongue, called our attention to it as Roo Barry " "I didn't," said Rowden hotly.
With a glance at the sun, dipping low in the golden dust behind the Palais Bourbon, they rose, and turning to the east, crossed the Boulevard St. Germain and sauntered toward the Ecole de Medecine. At the corner a girl passed them, walking hurriedly. Clifford smirked, Elliot and Rowden were agitated, but they all bowed, and, without raising her eyes, she returned their salute.
February had passed, like January, for most of the fellows, in a bad dream of unpaid bills. March was going in much the same way. This is the best account Clifford, Elliott and Rowden could have given of it. Thaxton and Rhodes were working. Carleton was engaged to a new pretty girl the sixth or seventh. Satan found the time passing delightfully.
Rowden received a small number of parlor boarders, who joined only in some of the lessons; indeed, some of them appeared to fulfil no purpose of education whatever by their residence with her. There were a Madame and Mademoiselle de , the latter of whom was supposed, I believe, to imbibe English in our atmosphere.
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