THE STORYTELLER.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume L, Issue 59, 26 April 1907, Page 4

THE STORYTELLER.

DOG AND WOLF. 'l'ii' night was clear, gleaming in the light of the moon. as though bttlied in a limpid lake. Ilia shutters ajar—he only slept well witli hi* windows open - .Dm or L-.M felt his weariness caressed [by the fresh lilac-sc, nicd air anil the ihoney-fragianee of the almond trees His insomnia was one with 'that of the feverish earth and the trees in whieh the sap was rising; it was the end of April, just the Season when everything is sprouting. The pic.ure of the fresh green of the country—the green in which the soul rejoices and the eye* drink in with avidity —and the flowers, yellow, pink, white, whieh sprangle the thick pastures and mingle wit}] the delicate blades of the young grass, was still before his eyes; he recalled the memory- the stately plantain trees whose large le.tves, like giant's hand', could be seen growing with this naked eye; the count.;.* vic.hr corollas which carpeted his <siuien wall, ami ,'o wliich the shadows 01 iriemlly pigeons ou the wing lent but a deeper tone of purple. He was, as n. were dazzled by <,his day of light on which the sun liu'd Scorched and the sir had been brisk; he remembered the clear azure and the Swilf ly-chasing light (dowds. Colette, his-old mare, and hlm-aU had worked hard. Off with the dawn, they bad visited five villages: he iiad closed the eyes of Father Lcmouot, a veter.in of seventy years, dead at his appointed time, resignedly calm; ne had brought a beautiful little girl into the world—the fifth child that the Ravande bad presented to her husband; he had left the contents of his purse with some poor people —the family Sourican, whose landlord was threatening to etrtct. He was the only doctor for ten miles round,' and throughout the length and breadtf? of the district he was venerated for his devotion and charity. And, then, with tranquil conscience, having performed his duty to-day, as he would perform it tomorrow, Doctor Lud turned himself over in his bed and tried to go to sleep. He did not succeed, and his senses be ing quickened by the fatigue which should have dulled them, helped him to perceive the delicate odour emanating from the golden mass blooming near his arbour; he could hear the furtive tread the velvet footfall, although so faint, of his big dog, Black, who was mounting guard in the yard. By him Colette an I the Doctor were well protected in the solitude of the little house, just outside the village.

However, that evening, just before, she was leaving, in accordance with her usual custom, Mother Rachine, who looked after bis household arrangements for him, had drawn her master's attention to some stones which had fallen off the little wall which separates the stables from the courtyard. A vagrant of some sort! The district was infested .with them. Bah! No danger with Black about! A friend and.a fniihful soul of a dog, devoted but proud .without any of the vices engendered by bondage neither coward, nor glutton, nor servile. He ignored the whip, but he understood the voice. Nearly man's equal by rea son of his intellect; more, by reason of his character. Suddenly Black banted violently, sinisterly; a furious voice, a piercing cry of pain, and then the doctor heard the sound of a breaking branch, an angry muttering intersecting the savage barks of the dog. To jump out of bed, dress himself rapidly, and pick up an iron-tipped-stick—his walking stick—was the affair of an instant. Already he was in the yard shouting: Black! Here." But Black did not listen to him, and went on jumping up at a lime-tree, in the middle of which a black form was perched, like a ghost; black and menacing, because of the gleam of a knife. The doctor lit his lantern and directed its rays on to the tree, He saw a man with a bushy beard, who muttered, terrified and haggard, mot daring to _ fly, yet wishing to rush forward and kill—ids desire could be. read in his wijd eyes, blinking in the sudden rush of light, tire knife trembled in his right hand, the left had been bitten by Black, and was dripping with blood. He looked like a wolf taken in a trap. "Where have you come from?'' elicit the Doctor, anil then, approaching: "How did you get in!" The man did not reply; but little heaps of crumbled plaster at the base of the low wall accused him; he had come to steal, to kill and had it not been for Black ... "Throw away your knife," said the Doctor. ' '"' ■ Tho man remained silent, sullen. Un the question being repeated, he answered in a husky voice: "Call your dog away, he's bitten my arm." "Here Black, to heel! Throw away yonr knife, and turn out your pockets." The man hesitated. '•The dog will do you no harm, and neither will I. Ho what I tell you." The man obeyed, jbut had he only had the courage! . . . .The knife buried ltoelf in the soil, a pai. of pincers, and a cold chisel, fell to tae ground. The Doctor np and said: "Come down, now. Black, lie down. The dog lay down growling. When the man had slipped to earth, the Hoctor's voice changed. Before him stood only one of Us equals, an unhappy one. "Why did vou come in that, way? You had but 'to knock at the street door or rap on the" shutters. I would have opened to you. I wat» not asleep.' He added: "You have taken the wrong road. And then, with an authority at once severe and gentle: "Yob came in as an emeny. and that is why Black has bitten you. Had you come as a friend, he would have welcomed vou. Is that not so, Black?" He had lifted up the bleeding hand, touched it. "Oh, oh! The wrist as well! Two fine bites! Had it not been for the tree of refuge! . . . The doctor in him came to the surfad', the good wizard who curds, relieves: "I will dress it for you." He went to a little cupboard, and before the man had recovered from his surprise, he had taken possession of the arm, had washed out the wounds with carbolised water, and swathed with cot-ton-wool and sticking-plaster the hand of prey, the hand tliat would so readily have murdered, but which now, inoffensive and shapeless, resembled a big dol. in swadding-clothes. When tins was accomplished: "Are vou hungry';" asked the Doctor. And, without waking for the reply: "Hit down!" He took some bread, the remains of cold meat,- and a bottle, from which some, of the contents had already lice:: taken, from the sideboard; be placed a plate and fork before the man; then, seeing that he bad but one available hand with which to help himself, lie broke the bread up into small pieces for him, cut up the meat, poured out the wine. ■ - * ***s!a!*Pß "Eat and driuk to your heart's de- ■ sire." The man's wild expression hail chung- ! Ed to one of utter amazement. He looked at "the meat, the wfue, and the Doe' I tor, who was contemplating him with sadness, tinged deeply with pity, and a'. Black, who, lying on the hearth and growling no longer, but still suspicious, ' was watching him fixedly. Slowly, l.c began to eat, but soon the bread refused to be swallowe.i, the meat stuck to his. palate. The Doctor held out the glass: : "Drink, my friend." But the man could not drink; a sob rose in his throat, and two large tears trickled down on to ms beard. He tried to laugh, and then, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, said, with that strange irony which sometimes accompanies misery: ,"Yes, it's quite certain that I took Hie wrong Toad. The night is dark." The Doctor gave bis bead a little jerk; his compassion became more profound and powerful. Yes, the night was no; clear. . . .How many ojb«cure consciences, how many shadowed hearts exist that could be'enlightened by just a Utile davlight, just a p>\-p of dawn, just a ■little touch of justice and human pity! "Would you like to sleep now'; You can leave in the morning."' Suspicion gleamed in the man's eyes. "If letting me go is also part of your charity. . . -that would Suit me best." "Do" you want money? Here." He put two five-franc pieces into his hand. The unhappy creature was so overwhelmed that he was unable to thank him. The Doctor led him to the door, opened it. White shone the road, and all the orchards were in flower: the night Was laden with perfume of the lilacs, the honey-fragrance of the almond trees: the scent of the earth, and the softness of the dew, laid their gentle fingers on the soul. The vagabond, with his cot-

ton-wool arm and bens hack, looked woebegone. Black, silent and serious, contemplated him. The Doctor, stroking the dog's head the while, said simply; "Another time, knock at the '.loov. Vou know now which is Ihe right road." —Paul and Victor Marguerite, in the Reader.. WIT AND ITI'MOU. "You a judge at vile horse show? What do you know about horses'" "I'm a dealer in them.'' "A dealer in horses?' "Yes, clothes horses." Fanner: So you've had some experience, have you? Youth: Yes. sir. Farmer: Well, what side of a cow do you sit on to milk? Youth: The outside. Benedick: That luminous paint is a splendid invention. Singleton: What. do you use it for, Benedick: We paini the baby's face, so we can give him a. drink in the night without lighting the gas. Kind Lady: After I gave you thai nice dinner you didn't saw that wood. Ilobough: Pardon me, lady. Yer grainnnr is bad. Youse should say, "You didn't see the wood," and then you're wrong. ] saw it when I came in.