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Page 33 text:
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Castles in rance s HEDRE PHILLIPPE crawled out of bed, stretched lazily, and slipped into her negligee. She walked over to the window, and, pressing her nose against the pane, peered out into the gloom. of those dreary days that there seem to be no end of during Parisian winters. This was her after- noon to be excused from classes at Beaux Arts. It was a long-waited-for holiday, and she had planned to spend it in a most enjoyable way. She would go to the Louvre. Hastily she consumed her breakfast of rolls and chocolate, and was off to the Beaux Arts. It was another By noon Phedre was at the Louvre. Into the magnificent Salle d'Apollon she wandered. This was her favorite room, the room of her rendez- vous with Diane de Poitiers and Catherine de Medici. And it was altogether a fitting place to dream of those ladies of the court. La Salle d'Apollon! The very name suggested beauty to her. She soon found herself admiring as she had hundreds of times before the wreathes and gar- lands carved exquisitely in wood and painted glamorously with Louis XIV gilt. After having drunk in the beauty of the room, she proceeded to make her regular rounds of the cases, leaving the most enjoyable sight until last. Admiringly she gazed at the jewel-studded hilt and the shin- ing steel blade of Charlemagneis sword. Then she walked over to the case she consid- ered her very own. Arrayed before her eyes were the gorgeous jewels of the great dames of yester- year. Each gem seemed to serve as a link of a fine chain that bound her to the past. These lovely rings, pendants, bracelets, earrings, and watches, sparkling with precious jewels, brought before her very eyes the beautiful Diane de Poitiers and the treacherous Catherine de Medici. She imagined this necklace of pearls encircling Diane's lovely throat as Henri embraced her during one of their numerous secret meetings, or this emerald ring on Catherine's murderous finger as she pre- pared her famous death potions. She viewed all these intimacies tenderly, but her eyes always strayed back to a certain earring. It was of delicately carved ivory. How dainty it was! But why was there only one? Neverthe- less, she consoled herself with the fact tl1at there was at least that one for her to enjoy. She stood thus for at least half an hour, looking at the jewels, but seeing the one earring only. Suddenly In Which Catherine de Medici Plays a Part By Louise Brandau, '33 a sharp bell rang in the main hall. She must leave her beloved jewel case and her reveries. Pensively she walked home. It had begun to rain now, pitter-patter of the drops on the sidewalk played fairy-like music to her dreams. By the time she reached her studio, she had firmly decided to visit the Chateau de Blois, the residence of Henri VII, Catherine de Medici, Diane de Poitiers, Francois I, Charles d'Orleans, and many other notables of French history. Then she could become more familiar with these interest- ing characters and dames d'antan than ever. vlllkikfk and the soft A month later Phedre swung her little yellow Citroen out of the garage and was on her way to Blois. Oh, it was great to ride through real French country in the brisk air! Winter had de- cided to remove her frosty cloak, and spring was stealing in to lay her flowing veil over all the earth., VV hat could be more inspiring than a set- ting like this to a dreamer such as Phedre? It was an invitation to ponder, and she took full advan- tage of it. She would have loved to stop at some quaint tea shop in picturesque Chartres, or to have rev- eled in the beauty of the Chateau at Chambord. However, she hastily concluded to forego these pleasures in order to get to Blois at the earliest possible moment. - As she entered' the court of the Chateau de Blois, she seemed to be enveloped by a forebod- ing of mystery. Perhaps she was awed by the memory of those terrible occurrences here. ,There was the spiral staircase built by Francois I with its decorative bannisters. The sight of it recalled to her the unhappy death of the Duc de Guise. Here the treacherous accomplices of Henri II had hidden themselves and pounced on the unfortunate Duc as he descended the stairs. The crime seemed all the more heartless in that only a few hours before Henri had knelt beside the Duc during prayer at the Chapel. A bit depressed by her recollections, she decided to go into the Chateau. She had arrived just in time. A guide was about to take some tourists around the building. They were now entering the room where Cath- erine de Medici had spent most of her time con- cocting poisons. A melancholy atmosphere per- meated the room. Phedre felt as though she were under the bewitching power of that perfidious murderess. In one corner of the room were the --ef 19 jaw- I
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Page 32 text:
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Pi -as The EASTERN Ec1-1o1a+-- ., floated away in the direction of the town. Before long they were beyond his vision. Puzzled and exceedingly perturbed, Teddy stood rooted to the Spot and stared. The wind was blowing from him and the fiowers had not passed him. Thinking himself unsuccessful in another at- tempt at cross-breeding, Teddy regretfully retired. W'ith the dawn, his resolution returned. Seems as if that's all I do, he mumbled to Pal, as he dressed in his habitual white ducks and sneakers. Try, try, try! Woiider if I'll ever succeed ? Since there was no one present to answer, Pal took the task upon himself and gamboled around his idol, emitting short sharp yaps of delight. A hearty breakfast soon dispelled his doubts, and Teddy left the house to examine his hybrid. If he had been perturbed the night before, his mind was in utter chaos when he perceived the cac- tus with all three of the original, exotic flowers on it! His mouth agape and his eyes saucer wide, Teddy approached the plant in a hesitating and in- credulous manner. Stretching out a hand that shook imperceptibly, he delicately fingered the many colored flower. It was firmly attatched to its stem! As the incredibility of the affair swept over him, Teddy began to wonder if the incident of the pre- vious evening had not been a dream or, perhaps, another of the desert's phenomena. A most exhaus- tive search revealed only one thing--faint traces of a sticky, red substance on the pollen of the stamen. That afternoon Teddy, still in a quandary over the results of his experiment, set out for Abbas, the town from which he got his supplies. Upon his arrival, he found the inhabitants-representa- tive of practically every race-gesticulating and babbling in wild excitement. He was not long in learning the cause. Going to the consul's office, he was warmly greeted by Consul Grenner, who was obviously worried. VVhat has happened. Doc F Teddy asked, ex- tending his hand. VV hy all the unusual commo- tion F Bad business, bad businessy' Doc Grenner muttered, pumping the proffered hand. Some wild story about a man-killing flower is floating around. The Arabs and Hindus are so panic- stricken they're beginning to get on the nerves of sensible, civilized people. His voice trailed away in a complaining note. Shaking his head regretfully, he continued. Last night three men were killed. One of them was an Englishman. A pal of his was with him. He said Martin-that's the one who was killed- stopped suddenly with a tense, horrified expression on his face. He stared ahead with glassy eyes and sank in a heap on the street, clutching and clawing at his neck. His companion examined his neck and claims he found -Grenner paused and then added in an impressive whisper, a flower l If he expected to see his friend exhibit any signs of being impressed, he was doomed to dis- appointment. Teddy's face was an inscrutable mask. His only question was, lNhat sort of fiower? The words came from between clinched teeth and taut lips. Grenner immediately launched into a glowing, detailed description of the death-fiower. Before he was half finished, however, Teddy was out of his office and racing for home, leaving behind a be- wildered and hurt consul. Guess he's superstitious like the rest of the nuts around here, he concluded with a knowing wag of his bullet-shaped head. Teddy reached home in record time and began to search feverishly for poles, wire, nails, and hammers. Pal, suspecting something, exhibited his intense enthusiasm by getting in his master's way as often as possible. He went unheeded. Calling his two servants, Teddy hurried to the cactus he had grown. After giving concise, rapid instructions, he and the Hindus were soon busily engaged. At the end of an hour of unceasing toil, Teddy stood back and grinned without humor. Guess that ought to hold them, he muttered savagely, as he looked at the wire structure sur- rounding and covering the plant. Two goats had been placed inside. Dismissing his helpers, he returned to the house to rest. A long night lay before him. ' At sunset he returned again to the plant. As twilight deepened into mystic darkness, a feeling of expectation and anticipation came over him. He scrutinized the cactus through the fine wire. Sud- denly he grew rigid and his eyes narrowed to mere slits. His breath came in gasps. His head was thrust forward. Slowly the deceptive representatives of beauty left their stems, they hovered about, undecided. One came in contact with the fence and recoiled. Soon they were in a turmoil. Then it was that they discovered the presence of the goats in the inclosure. NVith hawk-like swiftness they pounced upon the backs of their prey, near the neck. An agonized bleat was the only sound that disturbed the still- ness of the desert night. The animals collapsed. Gradually they stiffened. Their skins took on an old, withered, ar1d parched look. Then the flowers were content to release their death lock, and, floating gently and serenely, return to their stems. VVas it a freak of the imagination or was there a look of contentment and self-satisfaction on their faces? fC011fl.1I'll6I11 on Page 925 ...gf 18 tg..-
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Page 34 text:
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r- --wtf The EASTERN ECI-IOE1-we -4 secret niches for poisons, and nearby lay her bible and prayer stand. Despite the dampening effect this had on Phedre's spirits, the beauty of the room quite overbalanced it. The intricate designs and the elaborate panellings caused her to hesitate for a while in order to fully absorb its loveliness. The guide was now instructing them to examine the fine woodwork. She let her fingers linger on each delicate fleur-de-lys. Appreciatively she touched the little secret doors. The tourists were now completing their inspec- tion of the room, but Phedre felt that she must touch the carvings once more. She brushed her hand across the panel. There was a clicking sound and a door swung open. She groped around the inside of the closet, there was another clicking sound, and a case dropped into her hand. The guide, who had turned just as Phedre had brought the jewelled case out of the wall, strode quickly to her side. He stood perplexed a few minutes, then drew from his pocket what appeared to be a small map. It was a diagram of the room with cross marks showing the location of each secret door. He could find no trace whatever of this door on the map, and during his twenty years' ex- perience as guide at the Chateau, he had never seen it open. Phedre handed the case to the guide, who nervously, amidst the ohs and ahs of the crowd, revealed the contents. One piece of jewelry lay in the case, andiPhedre recognized it immediately. It was the mate to the earring at the Louvre. The week after her interesting visit to Blois, a letter in a long, official-looking envelope arrived for Phedre. My dear Miss Phillippef' she read, the Board of Museum Directors of the Louvre are desirous of rewarding you for the treasure you recently discovered in the Chateau de Blois. VVe have taken the earring to Viollet-le-Duc, who in- forms us that it was one of the jewels of Cath- erine de Medici. W'e were somewhat perplexed as to the reason for the silver lining under the ivory carving. Because of this we did not at first believe that it was the mate to the earring we had in our possession at the Louvre. However, M. le Duc tells us that it is the mate to the earring, and that the silver lining was made to contain Catherine de Medici's poisons. Although we cannot hope to repay you ade- quately for the great benefit that others will de- rive from your discovery, we should like to do something for you. Will you please call at the Louvre at the earliest possible moment to help us decide on some manner of recompense for you ? To say that Phedre was mad with excitement upon reading this message would hardly portray her emotion. In her glee, she aimed a sofa pillow at the head of innocent Tish, and hit. The poor kitten was startled. Her mistress had never dis- played her emotions in this way before. But she was so overjoyed! And she knew just what she would ask for. She had always longed to be able to study under M. Bourdon, one of the directors at the Louvre, but her modest circumstances would not permit. Certainly he would allow one more pupil in his class. just imagine, to study under this great artist! Perhaps some day under his tutorship she might produce a real chef d'oeuvre. Although she faintly feared a refusal of her request, she determined to ask it anyway. It meant more to her than anything else in the world. PF wr wr wk Two years passed, and then one morning the following notice appeared in a Parisian news- paper: The paintings of Phedre Phillippe, for the past two years a pupil of M. Bourdon, have lately been receiving much favorable comment among the art circles here. Her last painting, Le Chateau de Blois, is judged by authorities to be her best, and, incidentally, the best painting ever done of the Chateau. Gne can well imagine himself standing on the haughty terrace of the Chateau, overlooking the Loire, so realistically does Mlle. Phillippe convey the semi-nocturnal scene to her canvas. The misty light of evening, just as twilight settles over the Chateau, lends a charming, mystical effect to the painting. The shadowy Loire, stretching before the Chateau in a rippling, silvery ribbon, spins the finishing thread of the mystifying web that ensnares the en- tranced admirer of Mlle. Phillippe's masterpiece. It almost seems. to an interested observer, that she has lived within the walls of the old Chateau or, at least, that she has experienced there some crisis or turning point in her life or career, so impressed is he with the medieval atmosphere which she creates. Ideals By MARGARET RUSSELL, '33 Ideals, like shy flowers, Peep tlzrouglz the cold soil of realism: ' First tlzrusfing forth tiny sprays of hope, Then, more boldly, their stalks of persezreraince, Finally flowering into the blossoms ofideals real-ized. ...gr 20 jg..-
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