Jasmin: Barber, Poet, Philanthropist

comfortable home, could not long remain single. At length love came to beautify his existence. "It was for her sake," he says, "that I first tried

of his own class of life, poor and hardworking. After the day's work was over, they had many a pleasant walk together on the summer evenings, along the banks of the Garonne, or up the ascending road toward th

evotion, even though recited in verse. He scribbled his rhymes upon his curl-papers; and when he had read them to his sweetheart, he used them to curl the hair

y made up, their further courtship did not l

oing that's not

ture of our happy nuptial day. I might tell you at length of my newly dyed hat, my dress coat with blue facings, and my home-spun linen shirt with calico fro

sant house on the Gravier; and joy and happiness sat down with them at their own fireside. There was no Charivari, because their marriage was suitable. Both had been poor, and the wife was rea

mers did come, Jasmin treated them playfully and humorously. He was as lively as any Figaro; and he became such a favourite, that when hi

m recite his verses. He sang, he declaimed, while plying his razor or his scissors. But the chins and tresses of his sitters were in no danger from his skipping about,

. In a little town, gossip flies about qui

gossip had bewitched the editor. Perhaps he was no poet. His rhymes would certainly never carry him to the hospital. Jasmin's business was becoming a little more lucrative.. I

oetry and music. The epistle appeared in a local journal. Jasmin read it aloud to his family. Gontaud alleged in his poem that Apollo had me

st been my mate. And who is this 'Pollo, the humbug who has deceived thee so? Yes, I am lame, but when I was washing my linen, if any coxcomb had approached me, I would have hit him on the mouth with a stroke of my mallet!" "Mother," exclaimed the daughter, "'Pollo i

ife of happiness went on pleasantly. The honeymoon had long since p

ifferences of opinion. It is well if they do not allow those little differ

orth while in business? She saw him scribbling upon curl-papers instead of attending to his periwigs. She sometimes interrupted him while he

up his hobby. He went on rhyming, and in order to write down his verses he bought new pens and a new bottle of ink. Perhaps he felt the germs of poetic thought moving within him.

He had been married fourteen years, but his name was quite unknown, save to the people of Agen. It was well known in t

rber's shop. The woman was declaiming with the fury of a Xantippe, while the man was answering her with Homeric laughter. Nodier entered the shop, and found himself in the presence

, at the same time somewhat calmed by the

right, sir," said Nodier, thinking that the

ou were a lover of poetry, you would

er; "I know a littl

the better. You will be able to

lp from me, for I presume y

min, "it isn't debt

fe, "it's verses, always v

you have written?" asked

Here is a specimen

emon, ange

tie, fuis,

our n'est que

souffert, il do

dit, mon coe

ses maux a pei

e ta voix si do

t d'amour n

amour a tau

m. Turning round to the wife he said, "Madame, poetry knocks at your door; open it. That which inspires it is usually a noble heart

holding out his hand, he asked,

hile you give fair play to your genius, don't give up the manufacture of periwigs, for

f the Papillotos appeared, Nodier published his account of the above interview in Le Temps. He afterwards announced in the Quotidienne the out

me more crowded with customers. Ladies came to have their hair dressed by the poet: it was so original! He delighted them with singing or chanti

n he found the ladies at home, he returned with four or five francs in his purse. But often they were not at home, and he came home francless. Eventually he gave up

alk under the beautiful elms in front of the Gravier, where Jasmin was ready for business at any moment. Such prudence, such ilig

r, that, in my poetic joy, I broke into morsels and burnt in the fire that dre

est pens and the best ink. She even supplied him with a comfortable desk, on which he might write his verses. "Courage, courage!" she

ad of Pegasus carrying him to the hospital, it carried him to the office of the Notary, who enrolled him in the list of collectors of taxes. He was now a man of su

icks with a fli

curl on my ho

ime, true, not

verse on my p

s to ch

Marie, or in French Mariette. Madame

edition of his works-the fourth volume of Las Papillotos

id, are curl-papers. Jasmin's

eguiuno, et que

friza ma

es bray, mais no

beis en pa