--He's neither an artist nor a prince, interrupted an old nightingale, who had sang all season in the district's gardens.... I know what he is; he's a Sub-Prefect! And the whole woodland came alive with the rumour: --He's a Sub-Prefect! He's a Sub-Prefect! --He's bald! remarked a crested lark. The violets asked: --Is he a bad man? --Is he a bad man? asked the violets. The old nightingale replied: --Not at all! And with that reassurance, the birds started to sing again, the streams to flow, and the violets to perfume the air, just as though the gentleman wasn't there.... Ignoring all this pretty clamour, the Sub-Prefect invoked the spirit of the country fêtes, and, pencil at the ready, began to declaim in his ceremonial voice: --Gentlemen and constituents.... --Gentlemen and constituents.... said the Sub-Prefect in his ceremonial voice.... A cackle of laughter broke his concentration; he turned round and saw a lone fat woodpecker, perched on his opera hat, looking at him and laughing. The Sub-Prefect shrugged his shoulders and readied himself to continue, but the woodpecker interrupted him again: --What is the point? --I beg your pardon! What is the point? said the Sub-Prefect, who was flushing all over, and shooing the cheeky animal away, he resumed even more pompously: --Gentlemen and constituents.... --Gentlemen and constituents.... once again resumed the Sub-Prefect even more pompously. Then, the little violets stretched their stems out towards him and kindly asked him: --Sub-Prefect, can you smell our lovely perfume? And the streams were making divine music for him from beneath the moss, and over his head in the branches, a band of warblers sang their finest songs; indeed, the whole wood conspired to stop him composing his speech. As he composed his speech, the Sub-Prefect was intoxicated by the perfume, and delighted by the music. He tried again to resist the charm, but in vain, and became completely overcome. He propped himself up on the grass with his elbows, loosened his fine tails, and stammers, yet again, two or three times: --Gentlemen and constituents.... Gentlemen and const.... Gent.... Finally, he sent his constituents to the devil, and the muse of the country fêtes could only cover her face. Cover your face, O Muse of the country fêtes!... When, after an hour, his assistants, worried about their master, followed him into the wood, they saw something that made them recoil in horror.... The Sub-Prefect was lying on his stomach in the grass, all dishevelled like a Bohemian. He had taken off his tails;... and the Sub-Prefect was composing poetry, as he chewed ruminatively on a violet. BIXIOU'S WALLET One October morning, a few days before I left Paris, a man in shabby clothes turned up at my home--while I was having lunch.