TALES OF THE “TIGER.”

Taranaki Herald, Volume LXVII, Issue 16501, 31 July 1919, Page 7

TALES OF THE “TIGER.”

(From the New York Herald.)

The other day when news seemed scarce and dull and the press of Paris was put to it to find matters of interest for their readers, one enterprising editor sent an envoy to beard not the Jon, but the tiger in his den, or, more euphemistically, to interview Mr. Clemenceau. According to La Baionnette, which reports the achievement of its con temporary, this was tiio result; ‘‘What, Mr. Clemenceau, are your three favourite books?”.' “My three favourites? The three are four! Homer, Rabelais. Cervantes, Racine. But you must know that on my travels 1 confine myself to one. It is the railroad guide!” When Rodin, the same journal recalls, modelled the bust of Mr. Clemenceau, which now stands among those of other great Frenchmen in the Senate Chamber, his subject was not at all pleased with it. The big skull, projecting cheek hones, wrinkled eyes, and dropping moustache were certainly not flattering. Scrutinising it, the “Tiger” knit his brows and growled: “Who is this Mongol?” When ho was Minister of the Interior in the Sarrien Cabinet Mr. Glemenceau prescribed for tho functionaries of his department precise office hours which were to be rigorously observed. One day, early in the afternoon, he called his bureau chief, Mr. Winter, and said: “Let us take a turn in the bureaux.” Obviously his command had had little effect. Office after office was found empty. Mr. Clemenceau with difficulty restrained Iris anger. At last, in a nook under .the roof, they came upon a dork who, overcome by the heat, had fallen asleep at his desk. Mr. Winter sprang forward to shako and rouse him, but Mr. Clemenceau checked him: “Sapristi! But, no! Don’t waken him, or he. too, may run away!” On another occasion, while in the Interior Department, Clemenceau enjoined the prefects, whom ho always ruled despotically, not to leave their posts without authorisation, for he thought that they wore too often seen in Paris. But one of them, a prefect of tile Department of the Center, who prided himself on being the “Tiger’s” friend, came to Paris without authorisation, seeking to exchange his office for another in the Treasury.. Indeed, he came to Mr. Clemenceau to ask his aid in getting the appointment. On his arrival lie was instantly ushered in and was greeted by the Minister with: “You are the prefect of tho Seine!” “Ah, you jest!” replied the other, flushing with hope. “Dame! I know only one prefect who has the right to bo here without ray permission, and that is the prefect of the Seine!” “But, my dear Georges.” said the other, beginning to feel ' uncomfortable. “I had important reasons for coming to see you. It is about that place in the Treasury that—” “It is'iust four o’clock,” interrupted Mr. Clemenceau, looking at his watch. “At half-past four there is, I think, a train for the capital of your department.” “But— I was not going back until to-morrow.” “At half-past four. _ That is your train. I shall not detain you.” Breathless, perspiring, "the prefect ,’ust caught the train. The moment he entered his house tiie telephone bell rang.. Over the wire ho heard Mr. Clemenceau’s voice; “Is it you?” inquired tho Minister. “Very good. You caught your train. Good night!” As Minister of War he is entitled to occupy a magnificent apartment in the War Offico Building. But lie goes heme every night to sleep in his ground floor room at Passy. When asked why ho did not avail himself of his official privilege he replied; “I don’t like tie furniture 1”