LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XX, Issue 1572, 4 March 1879, Page 3

LITERATURE.

_ «- BELLES DEMOISELLES PLANTATION. •What do yon hak for it?' asked the plant r indifferently, designating the house by a wave of his whip. • \&\> for w'at ?' said Injin Charlie 'De house ! What yon ask for it ?' '1 don't believe,' said Charlie. ' What you would take for it ?' cried the planter, 'Wait for w'at?' ' What you would take for the whole block ?' ' ! don't want to sell him !' ' I'll give you ten thousand dollah for

1 Ten t'ousand dollab for dis house ? 0, no, that is no price. He is a blame good old house—that old house. (Old Charlie and the Colonel never swore in presence of each other) Forty years that old house didn't had to be paint! I ea?y can get fifty t'ousand dollah for that old home.' ' Fifty thousand picayunes ; yes/ said the Co'onel. * She's a good house. Can make plenty money,' pursued the deaf man. ' hat's what make you so rich, eh, Charlie ?' 4 Non, I don't maVe nothing. Too blame clever, me, dat's the troub. She's a good house —make mon y fast like a steamboat — make a barrel full in a week! Me, I lose money all the days. Too blame clever. 1 Charlie !' •Eh?' * Tell me what you'll take.' •Make? I don't make nothing. Too blamf clever.' ' What will you take ?' ' Oh, I got enough already—half drunk now.' * What you will take for the 'ouse ?' ' You wnnt to buy her ?' ■ I don't know'—(shrug)—'maybe—if you sell it cheap.' 'She's a bully old house.' Th«re was a long silence. By and by old Charlie commenced—'Old lnjin Charlie is a low down dog.' ' (Test vrai, oui !' retorted the Colonel in an undertone. ' He's got. Injin blood in him.' The Colonel nodded assent, * But he's got some blame good blood, too, ain't it ?' The Colonel nodded impatiently. * Bifiti ! Old Charlie's Injin blood says, " sell the house. Charlie, you blame old fool!" Mais, old Charlie's good blood says, "Charlie! if you sell that old house, Charlie, you low down old dog, Charlie, what de Comnte De Charleu make for you grace-gran' mnzzer, de dev' can eat you, Charlie, I don't care." ' ' But you'll sell iS anyhow, won't you, old man ?' ' """o !' And the ' No' rumbled rff in muttered oaths like thunder out on the Gulf. The incensed old Colonel wheeled and started off.

' Hurl!' (Colonel) said Charlie, standing np unsteadily. The planter turned with an inquiring frown

* I'll trade with yon !' said Charlie. The Colonel was tempted. 'Ow'l you tra'le ?' he a ked.

' My house for yours !' The old Colonel turned pale with anger. He wa'ked ve-y quiikly back, and came close up to his kinsman. 'Chrlie 'be said.

• Injin Charlie,' with a tipsy nod. But by this time self-control was returning. * Sell Belle* Demoiselles to you ?' he said in a high key, and then laughed ' Ho, ho, ho,' and rode away. A cloud, but not a dark one, overshadowed the spirits of Belles Demoiselles plaptation. The '-Id master, whose beaming presence hid always made him a shining Saturn, spinning and sparkling within the bright circle of his daughters, fell into musing fits, started out of fr >wning reveries, walked often by himself, arid heard business from bis overseer f-etfully. No wonder. The daughters knew his closeness in trade, and attributed it to his failure to negotiate for the old Cha lie buildings—so to call them. They began to depreciate B lies Demoiselles. If a north wind blew, it was too cold to ride ; if a shower had fallen, it was too muddy to drive ; in the morning the garden was wet; in the evening the grasshopper was a burden. 'Ennui wa» turned into capital; every headache was interpreted a premonition of aeue ; and when the native exuberance of a flock of ladies without a want or a care burst ont in laughter in the father's face, they spread their French eyes, rolled ip their little eyes and with rigid wrists and mock vehemence vowed and vowed again that thev only laighed .<*t their misery, and should pine to death unless they could move to the sweet city. 'O, the theatre ! 0, 'Means street! O, the masquerade! the Place d'Armes! the ball!' aid they would call upon Heaven with Frennh irreverence, and fall into each other's arms, whirl down the hall sinking a wa'tz. and with a grand c<dl.si'>n and fall, and, their eyes streaming merriment, lay the blame on the slippery floor, that would some day be thp death of the whole seven. Three times more the fond father, thus goaded, managed, by acc'dent business accident —to see old Charlie and increase his offer, but in vain. He finally went to him formally. • Eli ?' said the deaf and distant relative; • for what you want him. eh ? Why you don't stay where you halways be 'appy? This is a blame old rat-hole—good for old Ingln Charlie—tha's all. Why you don't stsy where you be halwaya 'appy ? Why you don't buy romewheres else ?' 'That's none of your business,'snapped the punter. Trnth was, his reasons were unsatisfactory even to himself.

A sullen silence followed. Then Charlie spok^ •Well, n",w, look here; I sell you old Charlie's house.' * Bien! And the whole block ?' said the Colonel.

♦Hold on,' said Charlie. 'I sell you de 'ous9 and de blook. Den I go and git drunk, and go to sleep; the dev' comaa a'ong and says, "Charlie! old Charlin, you blame low down oW dog, wake up ! What you doin' here? Whore's de 'ouse what Monsieur le (Vmpte give yrur prace-gran-muzzer? Don'c you see dat tine gentyman De Charieu. done gone and tore him down and make h>m ov r new, you blame old fool, Ch>»r l ie ! You low down oil login dog !" ' ' I'll g ; ve you forty thousand dollars,' taid the Colonel. ' For de 'oute ?' 'For all.'

The deaf man phook his head. ' For'y-five !' said the Colonel. 4, Vhat a lie? For what >ou tell me 1 Wh-\t aHe ?" I don't tell you no lie '

' Non, ron ! I give you forty-five!' shouted the Colonel.

Charli ■ shook his head again 'Fifty!' He shook it sgaio. The figures rose and rose to—- ' • eventy five!' The answer was an invitati n to go away and let the owner alone, a* he was, in certhin specified respects, the vilest of living or a'ures, and no oompauy for a fine gentyinan.

The ' fine gentyman' longed to blaspheme —but before old Charlie '- in the name of pHde, how could he ? He mounted and started away. 'Tell you what I'll make widyoa,' taid ' harlie.

''he other, guessing aright, turned back without dismounting, smiling. ' How much Belle 3 Demoiselles hoes me now ?' asked the deaf one

'One hundred and eichty thousand dollars,' said the Colonel, firmly ' Yass,' saii Charlie. " I don't want Belles Demoiselles '

T-ie old ''olonel's quiet laugh intimated it made no difference either way 'But me,' continued Ctarlie, 'me—l'm got le C'ompte De Charieu's blood in me, any 'ow—a litt' bit, any 'ow, ain't it ?' The Colonel nodded that it was.

' Bien ! If Igo out of dis plaie and don't go to 'dies Demoiselbs, de peoples will «ay —dey will say, ' Old Charli? he been all dozd time tell a blame lie ! He ain't no kin to his old grace-g'an-muzzer, not a blame bit! He don't got nary drop of De Oharleu biood to save his blame low down old Injin soul! No, Bare! What I want wid money, den? No sare! My place for yours !' He tuned to go into the house, just too soon to see the Colonel make an ugly wbisk at him with his riding whip. Then the "olonel, too, moved off

Two or three time? over, as he ambled homeward, laughter broke throu h ids annoyance as he recalled old Charley's family pride and the presumption of his offer. Yet each time he could but think better of—not the offer to swap, but the preposterous ance-tral loyalty. It was so much better thin he could have expected from his ' low down ' relative, and not unUke his own whim withal—the proposition which went with it was forgiven. This last defeat bore so harshly on the master of Belles Demoiselles that the danghters ; reading ch»grin in bis face, began to repent. They loved their father as daughters can, and when they saw their pretended dejection harrassing him seriously, they restrained their complaints, displayed more than ordinary ten temess, and heroi at d ostentatiou«ly concluded thatthe r e was no place like Belles Demoiselles. But the new mood tou :hed him more than the old, and only refined his discontent. Here was a man, rich without the care of riches, free from any real trouble, happiness as native to his house as perfume to his garden, deliberately, as it we e with premeiit*ted mali e, taking joy by the nhoulder and biddins; her begone to whether he might easily have follow* d, only that tbe very same ancestral nonsense that kept Injin Charlie from selling the old place for twice its value prevented him from ohoosing any other spot for a city home. Heaven sometimes pities suoh rich men and sends them trouble.

By and by the charm of nature and the merry hearts around prevailed ; the fit of exalted snlks passed off, and after a while the year flared up at Christmas, flickered, aDd went out.

New * ear came aid passed ; the beautiful garden ot Velles Demoiselles put on its spring attire ; the seven fair sisters moved from rose to rose ; the cloud of discontent h;»d warmed into invisible vapour in the rich sunlight of 'amily affection, and on the common memory the only scar of last year's wound was old Charlie's sheer impertinence in crossing the caprice of the De Cbarleus The cup of gladness seemed to fill with the filling of the river. How high it was ! Its tremendous current rolled and tumbled and spun along, hnstlmg the lo r g funeral flotillas of drift — and how near shore it came ! Men were out day and night watching the levee. Even the old Colonel took part, and grew light heart )d with ocenpation and excitement as every minute the river threw a whita arm over the levee's top, as though it would vault over. But all held fast, and, as the summer drifted in, the water sank down its banks and looked qaite incapable of harm. On a summer afternoon of uncommon mildness, old Colonel Jean Albert Henri Joseph De Charleu-Marot, being in a mood for reverie, slipped the custody of his feminine rulers and sought the crown of the levee, where it was his want to promenade. Presently he sat upon a stone bench, a favourite seat. Before him lay his broadspread fields ; near by his lordly mansion ; and being still —perhaps by female contact —somewhat sentimental, he Ml to musing on his past. It was hardly worthy to be proud of. All its morning was reddened with mad frolic, and far toward the meridan it was marred with elegant rioting. Pride hai kept him well n'gh useless, and despised the honors won by valor ; gamins; had dimmed prosperity ; death had taken his heavenly wife ; volnptuous ease had mortgaged his lands ; and yet his house still stood, his sweet smelling fields were still fruitful, his name was fame enough; and yonder and ;, >nder, among the trees and flowers, like angels walking in Eden, were the seven goddesses of his oaly worship. Just then a slight sound behind him brought him to his feet. He cast his eyes anxiously to the outer edge of the little strip of bank between the levee's base and the river. There was nothing visible. He paused, with his ear towards the water, his face full of frightened expectation Ha ! Thtre c»me a single plashing sound, like some great beast s ipping into the river, and dttle waves in a wide semicircle came out from under the bank and spread over the water! 1 My God!'

He plunged down the levee and bounded through the low weeds to the edge of the bank It was sheer, and the water about 4ft below. He did not stand qui'e on the »dge, but fell upon his kueea a couple of yards away, wringing his hands, moaning and weeping, and staring through his watery eyes at a fine, long crevice just discernible under the matted grass, and curving outward on either hand toward the river. (To he contintifid )