JEAN FRANÇOIS MILLET
"My Dear Rousseau,—Ask me to describe an earthquake, a very complicated aurora borealis, the veneration of old Ganne (the innkeeper) for a five franc piece, the stupefaction of an Englishman expecting to arrive first at the top of some inaccessible peak and finding himself face to face with another Englishman, and many other things all very difficult to describe, I should do any of them fully as easily as I could make you understand the admiration, the frenzied enthusiasm of my toads over the opening of the famous hamper.[1]
"Imagine beings who lack the power to express themselves with their tongues and whose most vehement and spontaneous excitement can only command shrieks and stamps, and you will have but a faint idea of what it was. When the moment of greatest frenzy was over they began to guess your name, which was uttered with great warmth. 'Is it M. Rousseau who has given us this, Papa?' 'Yes, my children.' And the tumult breaks out again. François found himself compelled to abandon ordinary language, the expressions
- ↑ Rousseau had sent Millet's children a hamper of toys and sweets.
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