original short stories-8- 第2部分

They　were　carrying　away　Clochette's　body。






THE　KISS

My　Little　Darling：　　So　you　are　crying　from　morning　until　night　and　from
night　until　morning；　because　your　husband　leaves　you；　you　do　not　know
what　to　do　and　so　you　ask　your　old　aunt　for　advice；　you　must　consider　her
quite　an　expert。　　I　don't　know　as　much　as　you　think　I　do；　and　yet　I　am
not　entirely　ignorant　of　the　art　of　loving；　or；　rather；　of　making　one's
self　loved；　in　which　you　are　a　little　lacking。　　I　can　admit　that　at　my
age。

You　say　that　you　are　all　attention；　love；　kisses　and　caresses　for　him。
Perhaps　that　is　the　very　trouble；　I　think　you　kiss　him　too　much。

My　dear；　we　have　in　our　hands　the　most　terrible　power　in　the　world：　LOVE。

Man　is　gifted　with　physical　strength；　and　he　exercises　force。　　Woman　is
gifted　with　charm；　and　she　rules　with　caresses。　　It　is　our　weapon；
formidable　and　invincible；　but　we　should　know　how　to　use　it。

Know　well　that　we　are　the　mistresses　of　the　world！　　To　tell　the　history
of　Love　from　the　beginning　of　the　world　would　be　to　tell　the　history　of
man　himself：　Everything　springs　from　it；　the　arts；　great　events；　customs；
wars；　the　overthrow　of　empires。

In　the　Bible　you　find　Delila；　Judith；　in　fables　we　find　Omphale；　Helen；
in　history　the　Sabines；　Cleopatra　and　many　others。

Therefore　we　reign　supreme；　all…powerful。　　But；　like　kings；　we　must　make
use　of　delicate　diplomacy。

Love；　my　dear；　is　made　up　of　imperceptible　sensations。　　We　know　that　it
is　as　strong　as　death；　but　also　as　frail　as　glass。　　The　slightest　shock
breaks　it；　and　our　power　crumbles；　and　we　are　never　able　to　raise　it
again。

We　have　the　power　of　making　ourselves　adored；　but　we　lack　one　tiny　thing；
the　understanding　of　the　various　kinds　of　caresses。　　In　embraces　we　lose
the　sentiment　of　delicacy；　while　the　man　over　whom　we　rule　remains　master
of　himself；　capable　of　judging　the　foolishness　of　certain　words。　　Take
care；　my　dear；　that　is　the　defect　in　our　armor。　　It　is　our　Achilles'
heel。

Do　you　know　whence　comes　our　real　power？　　From　the　kiss；　the　kiss　alone！
When　we　know　how　to　hold　out　and　give　up　our　lips　we　can　become　queens。

The　kiss　is　only　a　preface；　however；　but　a　charming　preface。　　More
charming　than　the　realization　itself。　　A　preface　which　can　always　be　read
over　again；　whereas　one　cannot　always　read　over　the　book。

Yes；　the　meeting　of　lips　is　the　most　perfect；　the　most　divine　sensation
given　to　human　beings；　the　supreme　limit　of　happiness：　It　is　in　the　kiss
alone　that　one　sometimes　seems　to　feel　this　union　of　souls　after　which　we
strive；　the　intermingling　of　hearts；　as　it　were。

Do　you　remember　the　verses　of　Sully…Prudhomme：

　　　　　Caresses　are　nothing　but　anxious　bliss；
　　　　　Vain　attempts　of　love　to　unite　souls　through　a　kiss。

One　caress　alone　gives　this　deep　sensation　of　two　beings　welded　into　one
it　is　the　kiss。　　No　violent　delirium　of　complete　possession　is　worth
this　trembling　approach　of　the　lips；　this　first　moist　and　fresh　contact；
and　then　the　long；　lingering；　motionless　rapture。

Therefore；　my　dear；　the　kiss　is　our　strongest　weapon；　but　we　must　take
care　not　to　dull　it。　　Do　not　forget　that　its　value　is　only　relative；
purely　conventional。　　It　continually　changes　according　to　circumstances；
the　state　of　expectancy　and　the　ecstasy　of　the　mind。　　I　will　call
attention　to　one　example。

Another　poet；　Francois　Coppee；　has　written　a　line　which　we　all　remember；
a　line　which　we　find　delightful；　which　moves　our　very　hearts。

After　describing　the　expectancy　of　a　lover；　waiting　in　a　room　one
winter's　evening；　his　anxiety；　his　nervous　impatience；　the　terrible　fear
of　not　seeing　her；　he　describes　the　arrival　of　the　beloved　woman；　who　at
last　enters　hurriedly；　out　of　breath；　bringing　with　her　part　of　the
winter　breeze；　and　he　exclaims：

　　　　　Oh！　the　taste　of　the　kisses　first　snatched　through　the　veil。

Is　that　not　a　line　of　exquisite　sentiment；　a　delicate　and　charming
observation；　a　perfect　truth？　　All　those　who　have　hastened　to　a
clandestine　meeting；　whom　passion　has　thrown　into　the　arms　of　a　man；　well
do　they　know　these　first　delicious　kisses　through　the　veil；　and　they
tremble　at　the　memory　of　them。　　And　yet　their　sole　charm　lies　in　the
circumstances；　from　being　late；　from　the　anxious　expectancy；　but　from　the
purelyor；　rather；　impurely；　if　you　prefersensual　point　of　view；　they
are　detestable。

Think！　　Outside　it　is　cold。　　The　young　woman　has　walked　quickly；　the　veil
is　moist　from　her　cold　breath。　　Little　drops　of　water　shine　in　the　lace。
The　lover　seizes　her　and　presses　his　burning　lips　to　her　liquid　breath。
The　moist　veil；　which　discolors　and　carries　the　dreadful　odor　of　chemical
dye；　penetrates　into　the　young　man's　mouth；　moistens　his　mustache。　　He
does　not　taste　the　lips　of　his　beloved；　he　tastes　the　dye　of　this　lace
moistened　with　cold　breath。　　And　yet；　like　the　poet；　we　would　all
exclaim：

　　　　　Oh！　the　taste　of　the　kisses　first　snatched　through　the　veil。

Therefore；　the　value　of　this　caress　being　entirely　a　matter　of
convention；　we　must　be　careful　not　to　abuse　it。

Well；　my　dear；　I　have　several　times　noticed　that　you　are　very　clumsy。
However；　you　were　not　alone　in　that　fault；　the　majority　of　women　lose
their　authority　by　abusing　the　kiss　with　untimely　kisses。　　When　they　feel
that　their　husband　or　their　lover　is　a　little　tired；　at　those　times　when
the　heart　as　well　as　the　body　needs　rest；　instead　of　understanding　what
is　going　on　within　him；　they　persist　in　giving　inopportune　caresses；　tire
him　by　the　obstinacy　of　begging　lips　and　give　caresses　lavished　with
neither　rhyme　nor　reason。

Trust　in　the　advice　of　my　experience。　　First；　never　kiss　your　husband　in
public；　in　the　train；　at　the　restaurant。　　It　is　bad　taste；　do　not　give　in
to　your　desires。　　He　would　feel　ridiculous　and　would　never　forgive　you。

Beware　of　useless　kisses　lavished　in　intimacy。　　I　am　sure　that　you　abuse
them。　　For　instance；　I　remember　one　day　that　you　did　something　quite
shocking。　　Probably　you　do　not　remember　it。

All　three　of　us　were　together　in　the　drawing…room；　and；　as　you　did　not
stand　on　ceremony　before　me；　your　husband　was　holding　you　on　his　knees
and　kissing　you　at　great　length　on　the　neck；　the　lips　and　throat。
Suddenly　you　exclaimed：　〃Oh！　the　fire！〃　You　had　been　paying　no　attention
to　it；　and　it　was　almost　out。　　A　few　lingering　embers　were　glowing　on　the
hearth。　　Then　he　rose；　ran　to　the　woodbox；　from　which　he　dragged　two
enormous　logs　with　great　difficulty；　when　you　came　to　him　with　begging
lips；　murmuring：

〃Kiss　me！〃　He　turned　his　head　with　difficulty　and　tried　to　hold　up　the
logs　at　the　same　time。　　Then　you　gently　and　slowly　placed　your　mouth　on
that　of　the　poor　fellow；　who　remained　with　his　neck　out　of　joint；　his
sides　twisted；　his　arms　almost　dropping　off；　trembling　with　fatigue　and
tired　from　his　desperate　effort。　　And　you　kept　drawing　out　this　torturing
kiss；　without　seeing　or　understanding。　　Then　when　you　freed　him；　you
began　to　grumble：　〃How　badly　you　kiss！〃　　No　wonder！

Oh；　take　care　of　that！　　We　all　have　this　foolish　habit；　this　unconscious
need　of　choosing　the　most　inconvenient　moments。　　When　he　is　carrying　a
glass　of　water；　when　he　is　putting　on　his　shoes；　when　he　is　tying　his
scarfin　short；　when　he　finds　himself　in　any　uncomfortable　position
then　is　the　time　which　we　choose　for　a　caress　which　makes　him　stop　for　a
whole　minute　in　the　middle　of　a　gesture　with　the　sole　desire　of　getting
rid　of　us！

Do　not　think　that　this　criticism　is　insignificant。　　Love；　my　dear；　is　a
delicate　thing。　　The　least　little　thing　offends　it；　know　that　everything
depends　on　the　tact　of　our　caresses。　　An　ill…placed　kiss　may　do　any
amount　of　harm。

Try　following　my　advice。

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Your　old　aunt；
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　COLLETTE。

This　story　appeared　in　the　Gaulois　in　November；　1882；　under　the　pseudonym
of　〃Maufrigneuse。〃






THE　LEGION　OF　HONOR


　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　HOW　HE　GOT　THE　LEGION　OF　HONOR

From　the　time　some　people　begin　to　talk　they　seem　to　have　an
overmastering　desire　or　vocation。

Ever　since　he　was　a　child；　M。　Caillard　had　only　had　one　idea　in　his　head…
to　wear　the　ribbon　of　an　order。　　When　he　was　still　quite　a　small　boy　he
used　to　wear　a　zinc　cross　of　the　Legion　of　Honor　pinned　on　his　tunic；
just　as　other　children　wear　a　soldier's　cap；　and　he　took　his　mother's
hand　in　the　street　with　a　proud　air；　sticking　out　his　little　chest　with
its　red　ribbon　and　metal　star　so　that　it　might　show　to　advantage。

His　studies　were　not　a　success；　and　he　failed　in　his　examination　for
Bachelor　of　Arts；　so；　not　knowing　what　to　do；　he　married　a　pretty　girl；
as　he　had　plenty　of　money　of　his　own。

They　lived　in　Paris；　as　many　rich　middle…class　people　do；　mixing　with
their　own　particular　set；　and　proud　of　knowing　a　deputy；　who　might
perhaps　be　a　minister　some　day；　and　counting　two　heads　of　departments
among　their　friends。

But　M。　Caillard　could　not　get　rid　of　his　one　absorbing　idea；　and　he　felt
constantly　unhappy　because　he　had　not　the　right　to　wear　a　little　bit　of
colored　ribbon　in　his　buttonhole。

When　he　met　any　men　who　were　decorated　on　the　boulevards；　he　looked　at
them　askance；　with　intense　jealousy。　　Sometimes；　when　he　had　nothing　to
do　in　the　afternoon；　he　would　count　them；　and　say　to　himself：　〃Just　let
me　see　how　many　I　shall　meet　between　the　Madeleine　and　the　Rue　Drouot。〃

Then　he　would　walk　slowly；　looking　at　every　coat　with　a　practiced　eye　for
the　little　bit　of　red　ribbon；　and　when　he　had　got　to　the　end　of　his　walk
he　always　repeated　the　numbers　aloud。

〃Eight　officers　and　seventeen　knights。　　As　many　as　that！　　It　is　stupid　to
sow　the　cross　broadcast　in　that　fashion。　　I　wonder　how　many　I　shall　meet
going　back？〃

And　he　returned　slowly；　unhappy　when　the　crowd　of　passers…by　interfered
with　his　vision。

He　knew　the　places　where　most　were　to　be　found。　　They　swarmed　in　the
Palais　Royal。　　Fewer　were　seen　in　the　Avenue　de　1'Opera　than　in　the　Rue
de　la　Paix；　while　the　right　side　of　the　boulevard　was　more　frequented　by
them　than　the　left。

They　also　seemed　to　prefer　certain　cafes　and　theatres。　　Whenever　he　saw　a
group　of　white…haired　old　gentlemen　standing　together　in　t