The piece performed was called _Le petit Poucet_ (Tom Thumb and
the Ogre); but I missed my old acquaintance the Ogre and his seven-league
boots of Mother Goose, and found that in this melodrama he was transformed
into a tyrannical and capricious _Seigneur Feodal_. There was a very pretty
young lady about 16 years of age accompanied by her father in the same box
with me, and I observed to her, "Ou est donc l'Ogre? il parait que l'on en
a fait un Seigneur feodal." "Oui, monsieur (she replied), et avec raison,
car ils etaient bien les Ogres de ce temps la." I entered into a long
conversation with my fair neighbour and found her well informed and well
educated, with great good sense and knowledge of the world far beyond her
years. She told me that she had begun to study English and that her father
was a miniature painter. I took leave of her not without feeling much
affected and my heart not a little "percosso dall' amoroso strale."
I must not forget to mention that there is a most spacious and magnificent
building on the _Quai du Rhone_ to the North of the bridge, which serves as
a cafe and ridotto or assembly room for balls, etc.
Pages:
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193