my friend, this egg is not only
soft--but damn soft." How that remark convulsed Europe!

Her first appearance on the stage was in Paris, 1690, at the Opera.
Bovine writes of her: "This airy, fairy thing danced into our hearts;
her movements are those of a gossamer gadfly--she is the embodiment of
spring, summer, autumn and winter." By this one can clearly see that in
a trice she had Paris at her feet--and what feet! Pierre Dugaz, the
celebrated chiropodist, describes them for us. "They were ordinary flesh
colour," he tells us, "with blue veins, and toe-nails which, had they
not been cut in time, would have grown several yards long and thus
interfered with her dancing."

What a sidelight on her character!--gay, bohemian, care-free as a child,
not even heeding her feet, her means of livelihood. Oh, Bibi--"Bibi
Coeur d'Or," as she was called so frequently by her multitudinous
adorers--would that in these mundane days you could revisit us with your
girlish laugh and supple dancing form! Look at the portrait of her,
painted by Coddle at the height of her amazing beauty: note the
sensitive nostrils, the delicate little mouth, and those eyes--the
gayest, merriest eyes that ever charmed a king's heart; and her
hair--that "mass of waving corn," as Bloodworthy describes it in his
celebrated book of "International Beauties." But we must follow her
through her wonderful life--destined, if not to alter the whole history
of France, why not?

After her appearance in Paris she journeyed to Vienna, where she met
Herman Veigel: you all know the story of that meeting, so I will not
enlarge upon it--enough that they met. It was, of course, before he
wrote his "Ode to an Unknown Flower" and "My Gretchen has Large Flat
Ears," poems which were destined to live almost forever. Bibi left
Vienna and journeyed to London--London, so cold and grim after Paris
the Gay and Vienna the Wicked. In her letter to Madame Perrier she says,
"My dear--London's awful"; and "Ludgate Circus--I ask you!" But still,
despite her dislike of the city itself, she stayed for eight years, her
whole being warmed by the love and adulation of the populace. She
appeared in the ballet after the opera. "Her dancing," writes Follygob,
"is unbelievable, incredible; she takes one completely by surprise--her
butterfly dance was a revelation." This from Follygob. Then Henry Pidd
wrote of her, "She is a woman." This from H. Pidd!

Then back to Paris--home, the place of her birt