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French drinks were not strong enough. After some
serious research work a drink was concocted that
satisfied them. It was named " Pernod (Susie) Suze
Fine/' imitation absinthe, gentian,, and brandy.
The cheap French brandy is very much like
methylated spirits. I tried the mixture but found
it impossible to get down. This kept them happy
for some weeks, until a day came when one member
of the party, whilst attempting to cross a street in
Montmartre, became suddenly transfixed in the
middle of the street. He was rigid like a waxwork
and as immovable. His companion had, with the
aid of a friendly taxi-driver, to lift him bodily into
a taxi. After this incident the English satisfied
themselves with milder forms of alcohol. One day
I bought Odilon Redon's Journal, called, " a soi
m&me" and, whilst reading it, came upon the follow-
ing passage, which I thought rather beautiful:
" J*ai passe dans Us alUes froides et silencieuses du
cimetiere etpres des tombes dfaertes* Etfai connu le calme
d9esprit." I thought that I would visit the Cimetiere
Montparnasse. It gave me a curious feeling of
gloom as I thought of Edgar. I walked down the
avenue of trees and came across a large section
which is set apart for Jews. Further on I found a
most curious tomb. It was the tomb of some
sale bourgeois. It consisted of a large bronze French
bedstead. At the top was a bronze angel and
at the foot a bronze india-rubber plant. In the
bed, on a bronze counterpane, lay Monsieur and
Madame Pigeon. Monsieur lay on his side in a
bronze frock coat, and Madame lay beside him