The two trains to Versailles were filled with victims with closed eyes! I was told that if I would ask the minister for a patent, that he would probably grant me a pension—as they did to Mr. Daguerre—of six thousand francs a year.
My best reward, however, I found in the unanimous gratitude of my relieved and happy patients; they wanted to strike a gold medal in my honor!—unheard of enthusiasm!
Five of my most inveterate cases, aged from twenty to fifty years, struck with an infatuation for the vaudeville, of which I relieved them, became great proselytes to my doctrines, and are determined to prosecute it on their own account after my departure—they even propose to purchase the Tower of St. James by subscription, and add two hundred more steps to the ascent.
Ti-en has given to the world no malady without its cure; he has placed the water-lily by the side of the pimento—the wood to make the sluice beside the torrent of Kiang-ho. It is for man to discover the remedy. Ti-en knows always what he does—and _we_—we do what we know not!
My mind is now calm; my heart is light, as is every thing which is empty. I shall now go and take my leave of the Minister for Foreign Affairs, and endeavor to correct the errors in diplomacy I have made, since I have been possessed by the foot of Mademoiselle Alexandrine de Saint Phar!
Is your soul at home to-day, Eulalie? And if it be, May mine come in and stay, Eulalie? Or has yours gone out to play, Eulalie! And if it be, Will it be long away, Eulalie?
I know it is the willfulest of things, Eulalie! But if it be Too gay to shut an hour its frolic wings, Eulalie, When it alights, so tenderly it sings, Eulalie, That as for me, More joy than some that longer stay it brings, Eulalie!
And I would not have it fettered for the world, Eulalie! For if it be— Ah! that lip, with laughing scorn I see it curled, Eulalie! Its wings would lose their light if they were furled, Eulalie! Then not for me, No fetter be on them for all the world, Eulalie!
If my soul, on calling, “not at home,” is told, Eulalie, I would make free To wait till yours came back, tired and cold, Eulalie! And then it will be glad its wings to fold, Eulalie, And I should see How long I might the glorious truant hold, Eulalie!