THE FATE OF I CIO DO RUM. 



cities were seen tramping along to share the pros- 

 perity of Issoire. Five hundred soldiers in red 

 and blue uniforms had taken the place of the dozen 

 gendarmes, the dome of the church was gilded 

 anew, and the poet wrote a sonnet in which Issoire 

 was compared to the island of Calypso, and the 

 mayor to Ulysses. 



But the weather was never so pleasant that 

 nobody had the rheumatism. Never was country 

 so happy that the grumblers all kept still. There 

 were some complainers even at Issoire. Those who 

 lived on incomes and endowments said that with the 

 rise of prices it was every day harder to make 

 both ends meet. One wealthy man who wore 

 Clermont-made boots, and had furnished his sons 

 with private tutors, and saddle-horses, and gold 

 watches, now found it almost beyond his means to 

 keep them in ordinary clothing. But he soon 

 removed to Clermont, and others of the same sort 

 went with him. With them, too, went the widows 

 and orphans who lived on endowments, and the 

 old soldiers who had government pensions. 



But the mayor said : " Let them go ; it is a 

 good riddance. They belong to the non-pro- 

 ducing class, a class that hangs like a millstone 

 on the neck of labor." 



But, in spite of all adverse influences, many peo- 

 ple from Issoire visited Clermont in fine weather 

 for pleasure or for trade. It was pleasant to wan- 

 der about the larger town, the home of their an- 

 cestors, to be a part in the bustle of its streets, and 

 to breathe its metropolitan air. There were better 

 opera-houses there, and picture-galleries, and there 



