Oh, thou more hairy than King Clodion,
Bearer on high of this report,
Thou yellower than a pure Cambodian,
And far more daring than King Clodion,
We'll cast thy statue in collodion
And mount it on a gas retort.
Oh, thou more hairy than King Clodion,
Bearer on high of this report!
Perhaps it may not be thought too pedantic on my part if I explain that
the King Clodion referred to in Millaud's last verse was the legendary
"Clodion the Hairy," a supposed fifth-century leader of the Franks,
reputed to be a forerunner of the founder of the, Merovingian dynasty.
Nadar's hair, however, was not long like that of _les rois chevelue_, for
it was simply a huge curly and somewhat reddish mop. As for his
complexion, Millaud's phrase, "yellow as a pure Cambodian," was a happy
thought.
These allusions to Millaud's sprightly verse remind me that throughout the
siege of Paris the so-called _mot pour rire_ was never once lost sight of.
At all times and in respect to everything there was a superabundance of
jests--jests on the Germans, the National and the Mobile Guard, the fallen
dynasty, and the new Republic, the fruitless sorties, the wretched
rations, the failing gas, and many other people and things.
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