Word: luxembourg
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...State Byrnes was absent at the Paris treaty conference. Acting Secretary Dean Acheson got on the phone to Byrnes; Byrnes and Truman talked with each other over a transatlantic circuit. Lights burned late in the Hotel Meurice, Paris headquarters of the U.S. delegation. Through a conference session in the Luxembourg Palace, Jimmy Byrnes ignored the speakers, sat scribbling shorthand notes...
Plush chairs caused trouble in Paris too. The reason: fleas. Thousands of the active insects, charmed out of the Luxembourg Palace's aging red plush chairs by the human warmth of some 1,200 delegates, kept the peacemakers busy scratching. A U.S. correspondent offered to write a ballad entitled: "I've Got That Luxembourg Itch...
Said Paris-Presse: "What human voice could speak in that titanic decor as the images flew! After the showing, the delegates returned to Luxembourg Palace, where fragile peace struggles to be born. . . ." The Paris-Matin: "We can't keep ourselves from, thinking of the Apocalypse. It is overwhelming. . . The delegates, despite their diplomatic lack of reaction, were overwhelmed...
Hidden in a shadowy corner of the Luxembourg Gardens-where children, lovers and park bench sages still hold pre-eminence over visiting statesmen-stands a large, Government-owned bee colony. Its keeper, a white-bearded octogenarian named Ernest Baudu, lectures any stray stroller who will listen on the facts of life, both apiarian and human. "Within each hive all bees are devoted to each other. But when a tired bee drops into a foreign hive," he sighs, "he is immediately asked for his passport. Often, in times of scarcity, a group of bees swoops on a richer hive. War ensues...
Lack of Ambiance. The conference's first week was hopeful but unexciting. Under the bored and stony stares of Charlemagne and Saint Louis in the Luxembourg Palace, orators and translators droned on verbosely, while temporary chairman Georges Bidault listened politely from the sun flooded rostrum. Prime Minister Attlee did crossword puzzles. Molotov suffered in silence, his hands folded in his lap. Some delegates slept. Even the Gobelin-hung bar was quiet. Americans favored champagne; in the absence of vodka, the Russians went in for cognac. But, sighed the bartender: "Il n'y a pas d'ambiance...