The Masterfolk : $b wherein is attempted the unravelling of the strange affair of my Lord Wyntwarde of Cavil and Miss Betty ModeyneMacfall, Haldane
General
The Masterfolk : $b wherein is attempted the unravelling of the strange affair of my Lord Wyntwarde of Cavil and Miss Betty Modeyne
Macfall, Haldane
Bohemianism -- Fiction; London (England) -- Fiction; Paris (France) -- Fiction
At last the musicians came down to the floor, and bursting into a
triumphant march, the vast crowd of revellers formed into procession,
and streamed out after the music into the fresh air of the early
morning.
In the streets the early concierges that stood yawning at their gates,
stopped their clacking tongues, cut short their scandals, and gaped
at the din; the street-sweepers rested from their sordid calling;
rag-pickers from their grimy traffic amongst the dust-bins--for an
invading army, gorgeously apparelled, was taking possession of Paris,
swarming down her thoroughfares in triumphal splendour, and Bellona,
goddess of war, thundered and rattled and swayed behind, dragged at
the tail of the frantic riot. Street after street, the sleepy city
awoke uneasily and put drowsy heads out of window, vaguely fearful of
catastrophe and dread that the devil of revolution had taken possession
of the place.
As the stream of revellers poured down the heights, they seized
all cabs, and putting their helmets on the heads of the protesting
coachmen, Greek warriors danced wildly on the tops of the cabs, adding
the rattle of wheels and the cracking of whips to the din.
With shout and yell they captured a number of great drays laden with
stone, and pulling down the drivers from their seats and dispossessing
the teamsters, Roman charioteers took the reins and sent the great
horses trotting and pounding clumsily along at the tail of the gay
procession, adding the thunder of their passage to the tumult.
With song and yell and laughter and skylarking and jovial horseplay,
they burst upon the great square of the Opera, swarmed up the broad
steps, and setting the band in their midst, they took hands and danced
in a mighty circle round and round the place....
They got moving again, in gorgeous procession, and headed towards the
Louvre, singing student songs, and cheering.
Gaston Latour curdled the blood of passing cabmen by running out into
the road and letting the wheels run over his great indiarubber feet
whilst he yelled in simulated agony. He then threw himself upon the
breast of policemen, and wept bitterly over their shoulders--whilst he
chalked innuendos across their backs.
With colours flying, band playing, and gorgeous battle-standards
swaying on high, with glint of spears and gleam of armour, the noisy
throng passed through the arches of the old-world palace of the Louvre
and surged into the courtyard, bringing back for awhile some hint of
its ancient magnificence.
The sun arose out of the morning over the edge of the city, painting
with golden glory her heights and upper places, and the great towers
of Notre Dame blushed in his dazzling magnificence, as, with song
and shout and laughter, the youths crossed the river into the Latin
Quarter; and the old quays rang to their merriment as it has echoed for
generations to the familiar riot and reckless feet of the studentry of
this most illustrious university of the world.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account