File:Sarah Bernhardt by Philippe Parrot, 1875 (bw).jpg

Philippe Parrot  (1831–1894)
	Alternative names	P. Parrot
	Description	French painter
	Date of birth/death	13 May 1831	14 May 1894
	Location of birth/death	Excideuil	8th arrondissement of Paris
	Authority file	: Q3380511 VIAF: 96118407 ULAN: 500063960 RKD: 61904

Identifier: memoriesofmylife00bern (find matches)
Title: Memories of my life : being my personal, professional, and social recollections as woman and artist
Year: 1907 (1900s)
Authors: Bernhardt, Sarah, 1844-1923
Subjects:
Publisher: New York : D. Appleton
Contributing Library: University of California Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

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Text Appearing Before Image:
handswith a few friends. My family, whom I had kept in the mostprofound ignorance, was not there. I felt my heart tightensomewdiat when after the words Loose all I found myself inone instant fifty yards above the earth, I still heard a fewcries: Attention! Come back! Dont let her be killed! And then nothing more. . . . Nothing. . . . There was the skyabove and the earth beneath. . . . Then, suddenly, I was in theclouds. I had left a misty Paris. I now breathed under a bluesky and saw a radiant sun. Around us were opaque mountainsof clouds with irradiated edges. Our balloon plunged into amilky vapor all warm with the sun. It was splendid! It wasstupefying! Not a sound, not a breath! But the balloon wasscarcely moving at all. It was only toward six oclock thatthe currents of air caught us and we took our flight towardthe East. We were at an altitude of about 1,700 yards.The spectacle became fairylike. Large fleecy clouds werespread below us. Large orange curtains fringed with violet 296
Text Appearing After Image:
SARAH BERNHARDT, PORTRAIT BY PARROTT, 1875,IN THE COMEDIE PRANCAISE, PARIS. A BALLOON ASCENSION came down from the sun to lose themselves in our cloudycarpet. At twenty minutes to seven we were about 2,500 yards abovethe earth, and cold and hunger commenced to make themselvesfelt. The dinner was copious—we had foie gras—fresh bread andoranges. The cork of our champagne bottle flew up into theclouds with a pretty, soft noise. We raised our glasses in honorof M. Giffard. We had talked a great deal. Night began to put on herheavy dark mantle. It became very cold. We were then at 2,600meters and I had a singing in my ears. My nose began to bleed.I felt very uncomfortable and began to feel drowsy without be-ing able to prevent it. Georges Clairin got anxious and youngGodard cried out loudly—to wake me up, no doubt— Alloa!Alloa! we shall have to go down. Let us throw out the guiderope! This cry woke me up properly. I wanted to knowwhat was the guide rope. I got up feeling rather stu

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