The story is a charming little recount of an old Paris street and its odd inhabitant.
to all audiences. In France there is not an audience that is not prohibited from giving marks of approval or disapproval. Otherwise, there is not an audience that would not turn orator.
At the Iena bridge Marmus had a pain in the stomach. He heard the hoarse voice of a cab driver. Marmus thought that he was ill and let himself be ushered into the cab. He made himself comfortable in it.
When the driver asked, "Where?" Marmus replied quietly:
"Where is your home, Monsieur?" asked the driver.
"Number three," Marmus replied.
"What street?" asked the driver.
"Ah, you are right, my friend. But this is extraordinary," he said, taking the driver into his confidence. "I have been so busy comparing the hyoides and the caracoides--yes, that's it. I will catch Sinard in the act. At the next session of the Institute he will have to yield to evidence."
The driver wrapped his ragged cloak around him. Resignedly, he was saying to himself, "I have seen many odd folks, but this one--" He heard t
A charming little introduction to the massive universe of Balzac. The characters are well described here as is the atmosphere of early 19th century Paris. I found this book first at Project Gutenberg where I was hooked by the delightful illustrations in watercolour by Francois Courboin. They are so light and witty that at first you might not appreciate the amount of knowledge and taste that must have gone into them. What a joy it must be to own a copy of this particular edition!