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Updated: May 13, 2025
"But," said the Vicomte de Breze, who piqued himself on the polish of his style, "they are certainly not the composition of any eminent writer. No eloquence, no sentiment; though I ought not to speak disparagingly of a fellow-contributor." "All that may be very true;" said Savarin; "but M. Enguerrand is right.
Only another day, when my pockets will be empty, do think what an excellent thing a roasted dog is, and make up your mind while Fox has still some little flesh on his bones." "Flesh!" said Savarin, detaining them. "Look! See how right Voltaire was in saying, 'Amusement is the first necessity of civilised man. Paris can do without bread Paris still retains Polichinello."
I breakfasted yesterday on two mice upon toast. Dainty, but not nutritious. And I shared them with Fox." "Fox! Fox lives still, then?" cried De Breze, startled. "In a sort of way he does. But one mouse since yesterday morning is not much; and he can't expect that every day." "Why don't you take him out?" asked Savarin. "Give him a chance of picking up a bone somewhere."
"Bah!" said Savarin, "I should indeed be guilty of mockery if I paid the Signorina so false a compliment as to say that in a first effort she attained to the style of one of the most finished sovereigns of language that has ever swayed the literature of France.
Well, to answer you frankly, if you fail in so easy a task, you are not the man to edit our journal, and I shall find another. Allez, courage! Take my advice; see Savarin the first thing to-morrow morning. Of course, my name and calling you will keep a profound secret from him, as from all.
Still he had judgment enough to know that to do this he must get back to Paris, and could not dawdle away precious hours in discussing the principles of poetry with Graham Vane. There was only one thing, apart from "the begging-hat," in which Savarin dissented from his wife.
"It is twenty-four hours since I spent my last fifty sous on the purchase of a rat, and I burnt the legs of my bedstead for the fuel by which that quadruped was roasted." "Entre nous, my poor friend, I am much in the same condition," said Savarin, with a ghastly attempt at his old pleasant laugh. "See how I am shrunken!
He has sold more than two-thirds of its property; he is in debt, and his creditor is urgent; and to-morrow you will offer Savarin thirty thousand francs for one column from his pen, and signed by his name, for two months from the day the journal starts.
As the two friends sauntered back towards the part of the Boulevards on which De Breze had parted company with them, Savarin quitted Lemercier suddenly, and crossed the street to accost a small party of two ladies and two men who were on their way to the Madeleine.
"Serious talk from M. Savarin is a novelty too great not to command my profoundest interest." "Thank you, and to begin: I who know the world and mankind advise you, who do not, never to meet a man who wishes to do you a kindness with an ungracious sarcasm.
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