File:In Vanity Fair; a tale of frocks and femininity (1906) (14785704843).jpg

Identifier: invanityfairtale00brai (find matches)
Title: In Vanity Fair; a tale of frocks and femininity
Year: 1906 (1900s)
Authors: Brainerd, Eleanor Hoyt, Mrs., 1868-
Subjects:
Publisher: New York, Moffat
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: The Library of Congress

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t dommage, Qa derange les choseSy buthe will not stay. No; he is devoted to the automobile.He will even sleep for it. It will pass, perhaps, thismania. They pass always, the manias. Then againwe will have the old crowd, and in the meantime thereare, fortunately, those who do not own the machines. Of places furnishing the motive for short automobiletrips from Paris there is no end, and the roads runningout of the city swarm with cars. There are quiet-lovingcountry folk who protest, futilely, but even the countryhorse and the excitable barnyard fowl of France havebecome accustomed to the snort of the motor and theonward rush of the demon, and are, like Pet Marjoriesturkey, more than usual calm as the great machinespeeds past. One meets them everywhere, these automobiles. Outin the Forest of Fontainebleau the mosses are still greenand gold where the sunshine filters to them through theinterlacing branches of the great trees. The rocks arestill covered with grey and green and faint purple
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The First Sportswoman of France LE SPORT IN PARIS 85 lichens. Little wood creatures rustle among the fernsand heather. Bird-notes sound from the branches over-head and from the thicket depths. The forest is stillthe grey-green, gold-green, brown and violet forestbeloved of French artists, but one cannot walk for tenminutes along the woodland paths without hearing theblast of a Gabriel horn and seeing a huge automobileplunge by, its occupants blind to the light and shadowand colour, deaf to the rustle in the brake and the musicfrom the bough, absorbed simply and solely in thebreathless speed of their pace and in the skill with whichthe chauffeur swings round corners, dodges boulders,and avoids climbing trees, for to the motor maniac,Fontainebleau means the Hotel dAngleterre and lunch-eon. To the impotent rage of the artist clan, the motorhas invaded Barbizon as well, and is to be found bythe dozen, puffing and panting outside the inn sacredto the Bohemians of the Latin Quarter and Mont

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