THE FATE OF ICIODORUM. 197 
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 
