Parisians in the Country
PARISIANS IN THE COUNTRY BY HONORE DE BALZAC INTRODUCTION I have sometimes wondered whether it was accident or intention which made Balzac so frequently combine early and late work in the same volume. The question is certainly insoluble, and perhaps not worth solving, but it presents itself once more in the present instance. /L'Illustre Gaudissart/ is a story of 1832, the very heyday of Balzac's creative period, when even his pen could hardly keep up with the abundance of his fancy and the gathered stores of his minute observation. /La Muse du Departement/ dates ten years and more later, when, though there was plenty of both left, both sacks had been deeply dipped into.
"There, there, Teddy dear, don't take on so," soothed Maud, rescuing
the other's new silver pencil that was rapidly sliding further away
from Ted with the pretty open hand bag. "I had entirely forgotten
how you despise ice sports. And you so lovely and fat for falling.
You should love 'em," insisted the studious Maud.
"Being fat isn't all it's----"
"Cracked up to be," assisted Judith Stearns. "I quote freely. That's
one of Tim Jackson's."
"Where have I heard the line before?" mimicked Theodosia Dalton,
otherwise Dozia the Fearless. "It has a chummy tone. All of which is
as naught to the question. Where is Jane? Never knew her to miss the
line up here. And I even tapped at her door. Judy, where is Jane?"
demanded Dozia.
"Am I my chum's keeper? Can't Jane attend to her own mortal baggage
without incurring the wrath of the multitude?" and Judith sprang up
from her spot on the leaf laden lawn. Also she cast a glance of
apprehension along the path where Jane Allen should at least now be
seen on her way. "Perhaps Jane feels we should forswear this moment
of mirth; being juniors and stepping aside from all the others. They
call it the Whisper you know; 'count of the whispering poplar
above," with a grandiose wave at the innocent tree. "But I would
PARISIANS IN THE COUNTRY BY HONORE DE BALZAC INTRODUCTION I have sometimes wondered whether it was accident or intention which made Balzac so frequently combine early and late work in the same volume. The question is certainly insoluble, and perhaps not worth solving, but it presents itself once more in the present instance. /L'Illustre Gaudissart/ is a story of 1832, the very heyday of Balzac's creative period, when even his pen could hardly keep up with the abundance of his fancy and the gathered stores of his minute observation. /La Muse du Departement/ dates ten years and more later, when, though there was plenty of both left, both sacks had been deeply dipped into.