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He waved his hand again to the minister, and left the room. "He will outstrip Natzmer," said Hardenberg, gazing after him; "it is an arrow of love which I have discharged, and it will not miss its aim. And now let us see how it is about the other arrow of love, which mes chers amis mes ennemis would like to discharge at me!" He rang the bell. Conrad, his faithful old footman, entered the room.
The charming delicacy of feeling which makes the tale of Deux Amis a treasury for great souls, was the rule of their daily life. It may be imagined, therefore, that their standard of requirements was not an easy one; they were too conscious of their worth, too well aware of their happiness, to care to trouble their life with the admixture of a new and unknown element.
This is a devilish war, mes amis, a devilish war; for see how we gloat over their losses. But listen still more: this is France, and none shall invade her save at their peril." For a while silence settled down over the scene of that sanguinary conflict, the guns of either side going out of action, while once more no sign was to be perceived of the Germans.
That heap of splintered wardrobes and legless tables was once a furniture warehouse. That snug little corner house, with the tottering zinc counter and the twisted beer engine, is an obvious estaminet. You may observe the sign, "Aux Deux Amis," in dingy lettering over the doorway. Here is an oil-and-colour shop: you can still see the red ochre and white lead splashed about among the ruins.
And when the people of the city heard that, they ran all together toward that marvel. Now the wife of the Count when she saw them both going together, fell to asking which of the two was her husband and said: "I know well the raiment of these twain, but I wot not which is Amile." And the Count said: "I am Amile, and this my fellow is Amis, who is whole."
She was always taking little houses for somebody's good, for the sick or the sorry, for broken-down artists, cleaned- out gamblers, temporarily unlucky speculators vieux amis old friends, as she used to explain apologetically, with a shrug of her fine shoulders. Whether Don Carlos was one of the "old friends," too, it's hard to say. More unlikely things have been heard of in smoking-rooms.
Therewithal Amis together with his folk, ceased not to seek his fellow Amile, until they came to the house of a noble man where they were guested.
Egalite. Fraternite. "Allons, mes amis! Chan-tons 'Quackquackquack." Quack. Quack. Quack." I suppose I will always puzzle over the ecstasies of That Wonderful Duck. And how Monsieur Auguste, the merest gnome of a man, would bend backwards in absolute laughter at this song's spirited conclusion upon a note so low as to wither us all. Then, too, the Schoolmaster. A little fragile old man.
The President could never keep out of the kitchen, from which he returned with most assuring reports: "Cette fois ca y est, mes amis," he would jubilantly exclaim, rubbing his hands, and even "Papa Charron" himself bearing in the first dish, his face scorched scarlet from his cooking-stove, would confidently aver that "MM. les juges seront contents aujourd'hui."
La Société Français des Amis des Arts purchased from the Salon, 1903, two water-colors by Mme. Faux-Froidure "Roses" and "Loose Flowers," or "Jonchée fleurie." Her pictures at the Exposition at Toulouse, spring of 1903, were much admired. In one she had most skilfully arranged "Peaches and Grapes." The color was truthful and delicate.
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