Madame Delphine

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C. Scribner's sons, 1881 - Louisiana - 125 pages
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A few steps from the St. Charles Hotel, in New Orleans, brings you to and across Canal street, the central avenue of the city, and to that corner where the flower-women sit at the inner and outer edges of the arcaded sidewalk, and make the air sweet with their fragrant merchandise. The crowd-and if it is near the time of the carnival it will be great-will follow Canal street. But you turn, instead, into the quiet, narrow way which a lover of Creole antiquity, in fondness for a romantic past, is still prone to call the Rue Royale. You will pass a few restaurants, a few auction rooms, a few furniture warehouses, and will hardly realize that you have left behind you the activity and clatter of a city of merchants before you find yourself in a region of architectural decrepitude, where an ancient and foreign-seeming domestic life, in second stories, overhangs the ruins of a former commercial prosperity, and upon everything has settled down a long Sabbath of decay.

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Page 123 - I confess to Almighty GOD, to blessed Mary ever Virgin, to blessed Michael the Archangel, to blessed John the Baptist, to the Holy Apostles Peter and Paul, and to all the Saints, and to you, father [if used in confession], that I have sinned exceedingly in thought, -word, and deed; through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault.
Page 123 - I confess to almighty God, to blessed Mary ever Virgin, to blessed Michael the Archangel, to blessed John the Baptist, to the holy Apostles Peter and Paul, to all the Saints, and to you, father : that I have sinned exceedingly in thought, word, and deed: through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault.
Page 21 - Amencain; but running sometimes into English and sometimes into mild laughter. Mention had been made of the absentee. Pere Jerome advanced an idea something like this: "It is impossible for any finite mind to fix the degree of criminality of any human act or of any human life. The Infinite One alone can know how much of our sin is chargeable to us, and how much to our brothers or our fathers. We all participate in one another's sins. There is a community of responsibility attaching to every misdeed....
Page 96 - She laid her hand on her heart, and frowned upward with physical pain. " But, very well ! from which race do they want to keep my daughter separate ? She is seven parts white ! The law did not stop her from being that ; and now, when she wants to be a white man's good and honest wife, shall that law stop her? Oh, no i
Page 13 - Remember, my boy" was the adjuration received by him as regularly as his waking cup of black coffee, "that none of your family line ever kept the laws of any government or creed." And if it was well that he should bear this in mind, it was well to reiterate it persistently, for, from the nurse's arms, the boy wore a look, not of docility so much as of gentle, judiaal benevolence.
Page 32 - he cried once, " if it were merely my own sins that I had to answer for, I might hold up my head before the rest of mankind ; but no, no, my friends — we cannot look each other in the face, for each has helped the other to sin. Oh, where is there any room, in this world of common disgrace, for pride ? Even if we had no common hope, a common despair ought to bind us together and forever silence the voice of scorn...
Page 9 - ... day what the carnival is to the present. Society balls given the same nights proved failures through the coincidence. The magnates of government, — municipal, state, federal, — those of the army, of the learned professions and of the clubs, — in short, the white male aristocracy in every thing save the ecclesiastical desk, — were there. Tickets were high-priced to insure the exclusion of the vulgar. No distinguished stranger was allowed to miss them. They were beautiful ! They were clad...
Page 4 - Its corrugated roof of dull red tiles, sloping down toward you with an inward curve, is overgrown with weeds, and in the fall of the year is gay with the yellow plumes of the golden-rod. You can almost touch with your cane the low edge of the broad, overhanging eaves. The batten shutters at door and window, with hinges like those of a postern, are shut with a grip that makes one's knuckles and nails feel lacerated.

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