In the highly imaginative issue of La revue musicale of May 1926 dedicated to “La jeunesse de Claude Debussy” we find not only an article by Charles Koechlin entitled “Some Early Mélodies by Claude Debussy,” but also a musical supplement with four (at the time) unpublished mélodies selected by Henry Prunières from the manuscripts Debussy dedicated to Madame Vasnier: Pantomime, Clair de lune, Pierrot, and Apparition. Their publication marked the first time that works were made available from the period during which the composer was still calling himself Achille, as he did as a boy, and not yet “Claude.” Koechlin began his article by revealing that he had always been fond of the “youthful works of the great composers.” “[T]hey exhibit ideas that are fresh,” he continued, “and tender, naïve, and charming—qualities that the master [Debussy] was not always able to recapture in his later works.” A well-known critic of the day, Constantin Photiadès (1883–1949), commented on Prunières's discovery in an article for the Revue de Paris:
Some small ineptitudes here and there take away from the four charming mélodies that we read last May in the issue of La revue musicale devoted to Debussy's youth, because these modest songs, on texts by Banville and Verlaine, do obviously reveal the hand of the student-composer. But they also exhibit an astonishing refinement and a remarkable ability to encapsulate the very essence of the poetry, down to the slightest prolongation of a word, or a syllable. […] These album leaves clearly foreshadow the mastery to follow. Such is the interest of these revelations and of all of those that are still to come—because we have by no means reached the end of our surprises. Sooner or later someone will discover the sylphlike music that Debussy wrote for The elves, by Leconte de Lisle, or perhaps the elegant, ornamental mélodie [Fête galante] that later became the minuet of the Petite suite for piano four-hands.
Here we learn that Photiadès was aware, already in 1926, of two Debussy manuscripts, most notably including that of Les elfes, whose very existence was completely unknown to modern Debussy scholars until recently, when they turned up in a private collection along with eight more song manuscripts from the pen of the master whom we now affectionately refer to as Claude de France.