"For he's a jolly good fellow," they sang, "for he's a jolly good
fellow, which nobody can deny!"
LA LETTRE D'AMOUR
When Bardini, who led the Hungarian Band at the Savoy Restaurant, was
promoted to play at the Casino at Trouville, his place was taken by
the second violin. The second violin was a boy, and when he greeted
his brother Tziganes and the habitues of the restaurant with an
apologetic and deprecatory bow, he showed that he was fully conscious
of the inadequacy of his years. The maitre d'hotel glided from table
to table, busying himself in explanations.
"The boy's name is Edouard; he comes from Budapest," he said. "The
season is too late to make it worth the while of the management to
engage a new chef d'orchestre. So this boy will play. He plays very
good, but he is not like Bardini."
He was not in the least like Bardini. In appearance, Bardini
suggested a Roumanian gypsy or a Portuguese sailor; his skin was
deeply tanned, his hair was plastered on his low forehead in thick,
oily curls, and his body, through much rich living on the scraps that
fell from the tables of Girot's and the Casino des Fleurs, was stout
and gross.
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