Tales and Sketches.

Wairarapa Daily Times, Volume 4, Issue 1239, 25 November 1882, Page 2 (Supplement)

Tales and Sketches.

PERE PERRAULT.

HOW HE SPENT HIS LEGAOY-A PARISIAN STORY,

At the fag end of tho city, on the southern side, where'thegiiy heart of Paris" subsides' into scholarly.: and .meditative,- quarters, stretches a street to. which certain detaiU give a grotesquo' individuality, Viewed at midday, under the most (favorable aspeot of sunlight, it cannot be said 'to be' ; ,a cheerful street, It is pretcrhaturally'still; a number of shabby dogs doze under its doorways; glimpses into back yards royeal pilcd-up fragments of bones, accnmmulations of rags and paper, and the general atmosphere is permeated with the smell of decaying vegetables, Should the visitor come upon some of its inhabitants loitering in the sunlight,, men and women would appear to belong to a race bowed of baok; clad in garments of ragged and'patched antiquity,^.to, assign a probable original.date, to .which would puzzle the, ingenious,inquirer. He would ,discover,ialso, certain attributes common to the physiognomy of both sexes; thus, when the eyes, usually fixed on the ground, are raised, thoy reveal the same expression of balanoed scrutiny, an expression that may be also detected in those of the dogs—and it would seein to indicate, in all' alike a mind open to tho chances of life, but not expecting much from these, chances. The spiritless, yet inquiring, attitude is doubtless a result of the occupation of the tribe, The aspect of the oummunity, canine and human, shows that wo have reached that last rang of the big social ladder where stand those who minister in the lowliest form to the imperious''demands civilisation' makes'upbri human nature; '' ' '"'' '\ It is the ohiffoniors' quarter, and this long street is tho, Rue,Mouffetard,.',. •,',■'. i, •■ The toll of the, Mouffetardians is,, during the nights ; Their .sleep is during, the. day, It is by no means always'the sleep of the just ; of tenor, tho slumbers proceed from tho brandy bottle. ' ' ""', One forenoon a oommotlon arose',in the, Ruo Moufiotard—caused by .tho'unprecedented tidings that the postman, clattering up the streot was inquiring for one of its inhabitants, " Pere Perrault,' "Thoro was a letter for Pere Perrault!" A host of ragged children ran out of the gutters proffering guidance to the official. They trotted' by his side, pointing with extended forelinger, ' while another detaohment set off at a run to,wake up Pere Perrault, As the postman was turning into a grubby yard, there came out of it toward him a bent figure, lod by clamorous urchins. It was that of a large-boned man clad in a grey blouse; his nether garments, a mosaic of stained patches, showed that damp bagginess at the knees which is the lowspirited protest of old garments against rough usuage, Ho stood in moldy old shoes, The gaunt face, surrounded by hanks of gray hair, was blank in the bewilderment of an unprecedented experience Behind this central group bustled up a little woman, with broad brown eyes, shrewd and bright, her tanned features covered with a net-work of wrinkets. "Is your name Porrault?" inquired tho postman, eying the man with business-like distrust.

"But-yes—it is Pere Perrault—and l—am his wife," exclaimod the woman with great volubility and gesture, her hands going up at every assertion, The postman fumbled, in the black box suspended across his oheßt by a strap, "Registered letter. Can you write," ho asked, "A letter for mel" mnttered the chiffonier. ■' : •''•

"He can't," dried Mere Perrault with vivacity;' the excitement that oast her husband's wits adrift sharpening'hers. "He can't," echoed all round the yard, filling with spectators.,., It is to be doubted if any member of the Quartier Mouffetard could have deciphered the signs tholearned of their species had decided upon as a vehicle of communication for thought, Tho ignorance added to the' sense of .something extraordinary having happened in the arrival of a letter among them—a letter that was not-to be delivered in an irresponsible fashion, but required, before giving it up, the attestation of the recipient. Tho postman opened a book,_ "Put a sigh—a cross-here," he said, with the laconic brevity becoming the man in office, Pere Perrault laboriously, affixed a cross whoro the postman's.fiuger kept pointing, and it was evident as he did so that his hand trembled. When the oblong parcel was delivered over to him, -'.'a letter for mo,"-he-muttered again, as' he turned it round and round, and his face 1 wore'a dazed expression as if he were looking at a ghoat. ' For forty years' ; the world outside.thejßue Mouffetard:had,resolved itself Whim'to'a number, of refuse, heaps placed bofore its doors, out of which h,e:and.his.,wife, baskets, on back,, lauterh and hook in hand, .and a dog at their heels, had.nighily picked odds and ends,' tho sale 1 of which formed' their' means of livelihood."' No link conneoted him with tho outside world but tluvrubbish it flung into tho streets. Paris had gone through its agonies of revolution, Governments came and went, the reign of frivolity and fashion. eddied in'the streets where blood had lately flowed, and,in all these transformations Pere Perrault had trudged through 'the darkness, bending over, the refiißO heaps, unaffected by the life beyond, Now from this outside world a mossage camo to him, aiid'hofrembled'before tho mysterious visitant, "L'Ecrivian. public," exclaimed Mere Perrault, giving an animated tug to the handkerchief wound turban-like round her head. . •

" L'Ecrivian public," echoed children and

chiffoniers of Pere Perrault stood turning tho letter, his'mind not having, yet formulized the necessity of taking a stop toward the unravelling of the secret it held, His wife'seized him by the sleeve,' and as she dragged him along he instinctively clutched the missive and, held it against his chest, The old couple walked rapidly,' jolknyed by a procession of small open-mouthed ragamuffins, and those of the chiffoniers who had sufficiently roused themselves from their slumbers,

They made their way to a wooden shed placed up against a wall, over the door of which an inscription announced that the Ecriyian public dwelt therein.'' His charge for reading Jotters was,.from, ten ; to twenty centimes; and for writing, fifty centimes,, seventy-fivo • centimes/;;and' one .franco ; ; AH the neighborhood'knew.the tariff, by heart, and.'' understood • that I; the' scale::of prices varied according to,the length, character and: amoimt 1 of'passion infused into the compb-, sitions, The '■role played ,by the • Eorivian public may bo described as S out'between that of, the barber of'the. Middle Aj»es'aijd of : the; confessor.-,- He.knew the),affairs of the. Quartier, and was,-acquainted with its most intimate secrets; ,■ For over'J.quartcr of a ; century hoihadmade out lits-bills,* he hadwritten its letters of love, of sorrow, and of appeal.. Pere and Mere Perrault knew the important man by sjght, but it was the first time thdy had crossed the threshold of ,his sanctum,. The procession that had fpljowed at'their heela.waited outside as they',passed within. •; ,■ '.,'.,' , , ' '"' Behind a table littered with some thumbed volumes and writing materials sat the learned man, L'Eoriviah public was flabby and round of limb, his scarce locks issued from a faded green cap, his beard was abundant,' and his round spectacles impressive. L'Ecrivian public had a wide experience of letters, and he seemed to recognize at a

gla'ns that this was an- important ooramun cation's $re perrault grudgingly handed t hiinj'while his wife put a two-sous piece 01 the table, He looked over his spectacle from the neat and formal superscription to ward - the-two-old people, and then de liberately broke the Beal. The finely.balanoed voice of the Eoriviai public, shook a little as he read aloud tha the So'us-Prefet; of Sooaux, having communi cated with the Maire of the XIII Arrondisse ment of .Paris, had ascertained that Jea Desire Perrault was still alive pursuing th cklling of chiffonier, He now announce! to him that by the death a few weeks pre vjons of his brother Armand Leon he in nefited, the, sum of 3000 francs, "Voila my, friend, allow.me to offer you my bes congratulations," said the Ecrivian, wh possessed a fine tact and power of expres sion. '!: I Pere Perrault remained without finding i \yord to say, looking drowsily at th speaker, I " Three 'thousand francs 1" cried Mer Perrau'lti.catohing her breath, "Who eve lieard tho like-three thousand francs I" j ''lt is a pretty sum, It is not often ', have to read suoh news to my oustomers, 1 said the Ecrivian. , j Still Pere Perrault remained silent, look ing stupidly at .the learned man with th round spectacles and the flowing beard Presontly he muttered; "Eh, say tha again, Three thousand francs," but th words did not seem to bring any meaning ti his mind. " Yes, there it it is, quite in form I noverread a better written letter, and ', have experience," said the Ecrivian, j "But yes—yes, it is olear as the day,' shouted Mere Perrault into her husband' ear, tapping tho palm of her left hand witl her closed right fist, Your brother, th miser, who would not lend you a few miser ible francs when you were without a sou, i |ead—yog, dead, and has left you thre thousand francs-you understand, thre thousand francs," and to emphasize this in formation Mere Porrault hit her left pain jvith a succession of little knocks from he: tight, j The energetic cleverness of his wife dii hot communicate itself to Pere Perrault I'Yes-yes, three thousand francs," he re peatod in the same mechanical fashion, with iut a responsive gleam in his eyes, Ho re inained standing where he was, asking m iuestion—making no movement, but a fox like keenness had suddenly developed ii Mere Perrault. The money must not b jent to the house; she had grown fearful o thieves, she had become suspicious, refusiii: jihe services of the Ecrivian public to tak iharge of the sum and place it in the Caiss J'Epargne, She all at onco recognized th Hrtue of spiritual authority, and, seizing he iusband by the tail of his blouse, announcei aer intention of going to see Monsieur 1 3ure, A feverish movement on the part o Pere Perrault revealed that through hi lulled senses an appreciation of his gooc :ortuno had entered, The Ecrivian public in returning the letter, let the string tha )ound the registered envolope fall on th loor. With trembling hasto the ehiffonie lucked under the table, and, with shakini ingers, clutched it, as if it, too, wor wecious. Mere Perrault did not pause to tell th lews to the eagor loiterers outside, but witl irm hold of her husband made her way t ihe presbytery. Monsieur le Cure was a iho door, just going out, but ho turned bad ind listened with interest to the old woman' itory, His efforts to minister to the spiritua leeds of the Mouffetardians were not appre iiated by thi3 Bohemian section' of hi look, but he was a man of an indulgent tun if mind, guilelessly! eager to do good with iut claiming any tribute of gratitude. Hi iow felt sure that for the speedier and mor lecure payment of the legacy there would b iertain formalities to be gone through _bj his wide-awake woman and stupid-lookinj nan, which it is probable they would blunde ver alone, He therefore once more put or lis shovel hat, and bade them' come witl lim to the Mayoralty of the Arrondissement ]ho counsels the priest during the_ wall ;ave to the old people as to the placing o his money were addressed to the wife, fo; he husband seemed too dazed to under tand as ho stalked'along dumbly clutching he letter against his chest, At the Mairii he authorities soon confined their questioni o Mere Perrault, apparently judging the olt pan to be little removed from an idiot, wh< bald do nothing but feebly reiterate tin [uestions put to him. Still, that the ehif onier was not ignorant'of the change tha lad come in his fortune was again mani ested by his obstinate refusal to give u] hto the civil authorities, in return for t ormal receipt thereof, the letter he had re icived that morning, It required, to' induci jim to part with the precious document, thi juent and vivid representations of his wit ;hat it was guarded by the Church in th jerson of Monsier le Cure, by the law ii ,hat of the officials surroundered by book, ind rolls of paper, and by the army in th 'entinelß posted at the door of the Marie, j The news of the legacy told to some of th' pikrers of the Ecravian public had pre feded the old couple on their return to th' iue Mouffetard, The quarter was on th' ijptoe of oxoitement, A sudden regard fo: Pere Perrault had'developed itself in th Mmmumty. Mere Perrault noted how th Sid man was treated with a respect he hai iover experienced before, The gargotte o Pere Michel was tho resort of chiffoniers oi loliday occasions, Thither Pere Perraul vent at the invitation of his friends, to tall >ver the big question how to spond 300' 'rancs. It was felt due to the community _t ionsider the question as one of public in ;erest, to be properly discussed only before ;able on which stood brandy and peti ifin bleu, The Mouffetardians are a silen •ace for one of Gallic origin, but they ca iome out volubly on occasions, with speed iterally strewn with sapristis and other ex oletives, to which the rumble of Ks gives listant semblance to the mutter of artillery The health of Pere Perrault was dranl ivith acclamation, Pero Perrault acknowlcdg ng the honor by drinking to it himself. I yas repeated with emphasis that the chii 'onier was an honor to the community. H leserved his luck, And it was rememberei iow on two occasions—once when he founi i silver teaspoon in a dust-heap, and anothe iimo a silver fork—he had with tho proceed if their sale treated his friends, It wa loped that on this occasion of his good for tune he would not be found lagging behind ior, said Pere Biot, the orator of the quarter " The word fraternity is a falsehood whoi the good luck of one of its members is no the good luck of all," Mere Perrault, whos late lynx-eyed vigilance had now assumei ihe form of caution, gave but a taciturn en jouragement to the company's hope of : treat, "Good money must not be wastei )n liquor," she remarked, Pere Perrault lowever, in the surrounding atmosphere o iordiality, was showing symptoms of awakin( jut of his .somnambulistic condition) hi loddedj and gave his word that when, hi touched liis legacy he would spend a wholi nuis d'or.in treating his mates, After this assurance the company took nr. ;he .question, in hand with gusto. The Mouffetardians are not politicians, It is difieult to swindle the imagination of men whe lay'e'no experience of life's chances but hose presented by rubbish heaps, Changes n the foifms of society's government do not iffeet those who do not understand the first neaning of aspiration, and are unable to ancy what enlarged life means, Still, there were in the quarter some pirite steeped in the direct colors of repubicanism, and one of them vowed with many fluttered ejaculations that had he 3000 francs

ho would devote every sou of them toward ridding the country of despotism, The Mouffetardians are. a reckless, lawless Bohemian set, but they are not of a spoilsport disposition, and the suggestion was fiercely overruled and silenced as one likely to mar the geniality of the meeting. To the majority present the prospect of doing nothing more, but smoking and imbibing any amount of eau de vie, appeared the only rational way of enjoying existence and spending 3000 francs, Fere Blot, who had larger views, Bpoko up, and demonstrated that a ohifionier who would deserve woll of the community should, do something for his fellows; he held, therefore, that Pere Perrault ought to set up as a maitro chiffonier, buying up from his old mates, and giving better prices for their pickings, A round of applause greeted this proposition,.,:: Pere Perrault listened to the knocking of glasses about him, A feverish brightness gleamed in his eyes, but he remained vaguely monosyllabic "That would be good; ho did not say no," A ohiffonier of feebler metal than his fellows, who had been known to wander to the fortifications and bring homejimp nosegays of wild flowers, admitted that had he 3000 francs he would have no more to do with the concern; he would buy a little house outsido the barriere, with a strip of garden to dig, in which he would plant cabbages and beans. Of a Sunday Pere Perrault might ask his friends to come and sit in the shade and breathe the air,

Pere Perrault puffed away at his pipe, and gave that mysterious ■ soft chuckle that neither agreed nor disagreed", but Mere Perrault, who rather liked the last suggestion, noticed that the glow deepened in his pale cheek as, he hearkened to it, yet he seemed thinking of something else, There, was "a queer look in his eyes, as if lie were seeing there before him what no one'else saWi',' The idea struck her,that her, old' man/had a notion of his own he was holding cloße, ,' V ''. *'..'* '■■'■'*'■.' * : :: . *■■ ;:.•*:'.•..■■'•''■* .'..'.

That evening the old couple sat oyer: the 1 stove with Medor, their dog, ; :bet\yeen.them,; Many rude and unlovely details littered the room, for. Pere Perrault* didnot,!; as;4id';the : more indolent' of his tribe;, dispose of his pickings from the rubbish heaps in 6tej but, carrying these home, sorted and disposed of them in detail. Compared to some of his mates, Perrault was a pattern ; of respectability, He was one of the few Mouffetardians whoso union with one of the other sex was not a dubious and ephemeral contract, unrecognized by Church or State, He had entered in the matrimonial bond at

Sceaux, before that quarrel with his brother the miser, shortly after which he had left his native village, He indulged rarely in libations of brandy, preferring light sour wino to more fiery liquors, except occasionally on Sundays or national holidays, whenaotuated by an indistinct idea that it was right to he festive; but Perrault's inebriation was always of a grotesquely, sombre character. M6re Perrault's imagination was now indulging itsolf in dreams of a garden planted with cabbages, of a constant supply of soup flavored with fresh vegetables, of a dry roof overhead in bad weather, Considering this prospect of comfort and plenty, her gipsy life seemed to her a bitter experience of tramps in the distracting wind and soaking rain. Pere Porrault was silent, but it was no longer the silonoe of stupidity. A smouldering excitement kept him still j he was grasping baggy knees with his hands, and staring into the fire with that odd feverish

look, "It is not that I shall do with the money," he suddenly said. "It shall be a garden-yes; but it shall not bo planted with cabbages;'it will be planted with flowers and evergreens," "Evergreensl But what kind of garden will that be?" asked his wife. .

"It will be a bit of ground in the cemetery," he replied, , . Mere Fnnault enveloped her husband with a scrutinising and apprehensive glance, as if sho feared ho had gone daft, "There will be a beautiful headstone with our names written on it quite plain:-'Cy, giseut Jean Desire Perrault, et Odette Celes> tine, son spouse, Chiffoniers,' and then our age," continued Perrault; who, now that his tongue was loosened, spoke unhesitatingly. " Are you gone mad, Perrault ?" asked his wife, bending her shaggy eyebrows, "Itwill be beautiful, like a corner of one of the gardens in the Luxembourg; and it will belong tons a perpetuite-d perpetuite, Do you understand, aptrpetuite ?—for ever;

for hundreds of years always—and- all the time the people will know us and speak of us," continued Pere Perrault .without heeding his wife,.and chuckling to himsolf, and rubbing his hands up and down over his knees,

"But have you gone mad?" she cried again, shaking her hand up in. the air. " What does it signify after death to lie in a fine place if you' must labor and weary in life?" : .'

"What does it signify?" cried the old man,, turning upon her with a gesture,of frightful energy, " I'll toll you what i' Dp you remember Totin?. I saw him dead, I went! to his funeral, T did 'not care for Totin living, but when I saw him lying there on. a paillasse, motionless, 'then sewn up in a dirty sheet, nailed down in a deal box—well, I tell you, I felt something" here"—and he struck his chest. "It seemed nothing to me that Totin should grub in the dirt while we lived, but as he lay there dead before me I felt somehow as if I loved him, That was why I went to his funeral, Then, when I saw him put down into the fosse commune, I thought, 'There he is; no one knew him alive and know one will know him dead; not his name, or anything about him;' then I said to myself, 'Peranlt, Perault,' I said to myself, t the degradation is the/mm commune,'" "The fosse commune or another grave, it

is the same to me," said Mere Perrault wit

hitter emphasis, " What I want' is a little comfort in life—that hit of garden with the cabbage's." Pere Perrault indulged in one.of those ex-

pletives not known in any polite society. " A cabbage garden!—l don't want your cabbage garden, I dig in the sunshine I No-it is not. I will do it. I still prefer my trade; I know it, and it knows-me, Here I come to a heap of rubbish—l look at it; I guess what I shall find jit never disappoints me; sometimes it gives me more," "It is a rough trade," feebly put in Mere Perrault, overborne by her husband's vehemence.

' "Itis a rough trade; all the more reason to take my ease after death, Imade friends with one of the gardeners in Pere la Chaise He showed me the tombs.. There is a fine one to two people;'lie told nie their story. I remember their names, fori said them to myself over and over again—Madame Louise et Monsieur Abeliart., They lived hundreds and hundreds of years ago; they loved each other; they could not marry, so she became a nun, he became a monk, but after their death there they came together, There they lie like bride and bridegroom, and every one knows their story, and every one tells it. Bah I Inthe/ow£ commune you would lie there, and I would here," making a gesture of his hand in opposite directions, "but in our bit of ground we'd be together,, and every one would always know as we were husband and wife,"

"That would be gentil, certainly," saic Mere Perrault, softly, a thrill of amazemenl passing through her frame at these extraor dinary words, " I shall have a picture of our basket ano] hooks carved upon the tombstone, saic Pere Perrault,

"We might have Medor's picture piii there, too," remarked Mere Perrault,

"I believe it, Meed, the rogue L Lordl he trots by our side as if, he were 'himself a: obiffonier,!. said Pere Perrault, giving a genial kick to the dozing quadruped, who sat up responsibly, blinked one eye at his master and shook his rag of a tail. Thoold couple chattered until deep Into the nightfor the'first' time they forgot to do rag-picking. Pere Perrault had won his wife 8 complete adhesion to the solieme of this wish to be known to the world and posterity as her spouse. Her imagination, once kindled, travelled as fast as her husband's in pioturing the mausoleum ereoted to their united memory.. The note had been struok that set these two old- hearts beating in unison,. They grow garrulous, with each other, those two whose married life had been so morose. They oonfided to each other the fanoies that crowded into their, brains. They vaguely felt drawn to each other as in the olden days when they had walked as sweethearts in the woods of Sceaux, and the firelight glancing upon their, wrinkled faces to touch them with something of a uniting radiance, * ' * * * , (To he continued,)

A LITTLE 2ESTHETE,

Aunt Eunice was certainly impracticable If you thought you had her here, up she sprang like a jack-in-the-box thore, and you never knew what to expect from one with a point of view differing from that of almost all round her. There was, to be sure, one thing you had a right to expect, and only one; and that was always and everywhere of late certain and complete 'disapprobation of Rosalie's proceedings-Rosalie she had been christened, but'shohad taken to spelling it ' '.Rosalys".'at the time shelearned the Kensington': stitoh," subscribed to' Punclil or the, simple;' purpose; of outting her gowns, since . : nd> : dreßißmakeri'6puld'''dcf it/ .on'thifmodel'Ql 'thosei;of Mr. Du'terier's la'dies.tlierc, and vdug up all•: her' aweet-briers: and lemon-ver-: benas' for. the sake ;pf planting whole beds of' : sunflower'B', : ; "I can't, understand 'what'.'; it means,"shemoanedj "Ibought the;vcry best of seeds; and! planted a pound of them, and there only two of them have come up, I dobelieve-I do believe-" And she looked at Joe as if what she believed was that he palled them up as fast as they sprouted, "Don't look at me, Rosa," said Cousin Joo; " look at the birds," And while they are watching a saucy feathered songster tugging at the stem of one of the springing plants that he might get at the seed at its root, I will tell you that Joo wasn't her cousin really j they were only stop ; oousins, and therefore not blood relations; but that had never hindered the warmest sort of intimacy till Rosalys began to spell hor name in old text, and declare she could see no absurdity in the young [esthete's declaration that he dined off a lily, that it merely meant the satisfying sense of beauty in which the banqueting of the soul dulled the hunger of the body,- and that Mr, Rivas said the sense of color was somothing quite as actual as the sense that enjoys a shop, and so maunder on till Aunt Eunice put her fingers in her ears, and told Rosalys if she didn't become quiet she would have to shake her. Upon which Rosalys would walk off singing to herself from Oscar Wilde: ' • . '

" Her gold hair fell on the wall of gold Like tho delicate gossamer tangles spun • On the burnished disk of tho marigold, Or the sunflower turning to meet the suu Wlion tliogloom of the joalous night is done, And the spoar of tho lily Is aureolcd.",

"I am worried about her," cried Annt Eunice. "Is she really becoming an idiot?" " Not she, Aunt Eunice ?" said Joe, laughing. "It takes a world of sense to make that sort of idiocy." " Well, she doesn't do a useful thing now, and she used to be invaluable. It is all through that paiuting fellow, Rivas, Ever since he and his moon-struck sister there came back, she has been bewitched., I'll give him a piece of my mind 1". And.for the time boing that pleasant 'prospect '-imparted comfort to Aunt Eunice. . ... , .

"Do you really mean to go over to : the enemy, Rosa ?" said, Joe, overtaking the pretty minx with his long strides presently. "Have you taken out your naturalization papers in the fleshly school? .And do you find pleasure in the thought of slipping over our own graves as two snakes, or creeping 1 through hot jungles as two tigers ? What is the verse you read so often—"How my heart leaps up To think of that grand living after death .■ In beast aud bird and flower!"

" I mean to do just as I please, Joe, and to let you do the same," was the tart reply. "Indeed you do not; for if you did, I should take you so far away from all this nonsense that you wouldn't know you were on.the same planet." But Rosa had gone without any more words, and left him watching her down the garden aisle, with her scant blue robes clinging about her pretty feet, andher scarf oatchingon every thorn,' to where young Rivas sat sketching on the old stone wall at. the garden foot, wearing his bicycle dress, whose knee-breeches'and jacket were, perhaps, something as near the Old Florentine as he dared to approach in these parallels, Joe could not but aoknow'ledge that the dark young artist, lithe 1 and slender, and the sylph hurrying under the arched pathway, with her long unbraided brown hair streaming round her and away in the wind, made a pleasant picture, Yet it vexed him that it should be made by his Rosa, who six months ago had been al[ but his wife, planning their house and home with him, choosing their chairs and sofas, " till bedeviled by this mediaeval idiot and his sister," growled Joe, Then a spasm of humility seized him, and he didn't wonder she preferred the Italian beauty of the youth to his own- giant stature and Saxon tints, the novelty of the one to the long usage of the other, For all that, it had occurred to him that he might counteract a portion of the bedevilment by seeing if there were anything in this sad Bister Gladys; yet, on tho whole, he was too hurt and angry and disgusted to try, and he rubbed his short yellow curls, and flashed his great eyes at them, and strode away gnawing his moustache, after one dismal glimpse of Rosa catching up the dinging skirts round those pretty ankles of hers, to dance down the, path more trippingly, and waving her scarf with her arm, the scarf whose cunning disposition was the nearest that she, in turn, dared approach to angel sleeves,

Joe knew that tho girl in the long sulphurcoloured gown opening ovor olive-green velvet, reading a book.as Bhe walked with downcast head and facej'was Gladys, and he knew just why she walked there, and at this moment his great figure cast a shadow at her feet, but he would none of her, and went back for a little solace to Aunt Eunice ■

"I saw youj" said the good-but contrary and- old-fashioned soul, "from the window, And I saw that bilious-looking girl making eyes at you, But don't be troubled, Joe. Only have patience, and it will all come right. Rosa isn't really a fool yet. .You go on furnishing your house as if nothing had been said or done,"

"I don't, know that I want to," said Joe gloomily. "Don't know that you want to?" cried Aunt Eunice, "Then there is really more mischief done than Ifeared, Don't know that you want to ?" Joe, if you don't want to,. I'll sue you for.breack of promise myself." It was a long summer to poor Joe, who had expected by this to be revelling in an ideal world of happiness, with a oharming wife, settling in their home in the suburbs, the home that was to be nothing but a nest of love and music and joy and goodness, _ And here was Eosa never lotting him mention the

subject, planting her sunflowers overhand .resouing but two'of them' agdin, going about with hor little' thumb through a palette patched in dullest colours of old gold and dirty green,' or spending hours oyer.her easelwhere an ethereal pot of impossible lilies was trying to put on-or off -semblance of reality, draping old ironing blankets at her windows, and talking of the ineffable dream of dead light blooming in'the' slumber of their tawny folds,, uttering further fanfaronade of spiritual, idyllic, and realistic whims, and living in'any ,world but. this world, It was altogether too much for poor Cousin Joo, /He could endure the hatefulness of it all no' longer; Rosa in all sorts of gowns but. her wedding gown, inill'sorts' of postures but her old ono of .his worshipper; Rosa with a wall of separation growing up between horself and him; Rosa rapt in the contemplation of vanities and the admiration of this little painting ohap, who was;So rapt in the same admiration that he'didnot need hers-it was all detestable, a nightmare, from which it was time to wake, perienco that it was best to bo. done, .with, Joe had had as many sleepless nights and bitter days as he cared to live through; he would out the knot once and for. all,' and be off, and forget her; and when he was gone, perhaps Rosa would miss him, and'begin to, listen to reason— But no; on the whole, he didn't know that he wanted her to do so, And then he asked himself what in the world, in that case, was he making all this fuss about?

There she was now, down; by the bed of sunflowers that had not come up, and where the. weeds hai come up-but Rosa had joined tho school that loved weeds—tending those two tall late stems that were just beginning to open their big disks when all the other sunflowers had withered,'

"That is just, the thing," said Kosalys, as ho approached,; 1 " They come, you see, when no:oHe else hits them, and just as if they knew all.; about the fanoy. party in Gladys' garden to-nighti The idea'of- your being Guy of Warwick, Joe I. Jiißt the representation of brute strength, ! - As if there were any poetry, or'beauty,: or, soul food; .in such a part 1 I am td'ibethe Morning Star. I shall be everywhere; And I shall wear one of these great Bhining suns just' over my heart, the buds trailing down the front and side, and ending in- the other great shining one on my train, Won't that be delicious?"

" If it were on any one else, she would be taken for an Indian squaw, that'a all." "Well, it isn't on any one else; it's on me, Gladys is to be Twilight, but I am going-to be the Morning Star, you know," she cried, with her rosy smile and breaking dimples,- "And I am going to be just too

"Utter," said Joe, She looked at him in a moment of doubt, "If you are making fun of me, Joe, you can't—you can't—" " Expect to be considered Early English." "Oh!"'criedßosa, "You, Joe? Itistooitis too—"

"Un-utter-able," said Joe, stalking off just before Rosa began to cry. Rosa always was a baby. • "We' are all going into town this afternoon to a matinee," 'said Emeline, who had, to tell the truth, struggled in resisting an inclination to turn her i into &y, but who had come out victorious, and now looked on her sister Rosalys and the two Rivases as perpetual entertainment, as she told Joe, in urging him to have patience; for she was sure the machinery was not strong enough to hold, the curtain up much longer. " What do you' think ?" shs added, walking back ■with Joe, '" Aunt Eunice has been reading it up in the English papers, and she says Bhe is determined to see the new play 'Perseverance'—no, that isn't the word, It isn't 'Procrastination' either. Oh, 'Patience' —yes, They give it to-day, and she has had the tickets bought; they are at Charlie's office, where we rendezvous, and we can all be at. home in time for tea. And I rely on you, Joe, to help me out, for I shouldn't be a bit surprised to. see Aunt Eunice on the stage—" ■ '■•.-. ■ "Pulling Saphir's' hair, or tearing off Grosvenor'fl lily, Yos, I've seen 'Patience,'as well as tried its perfect work." ' And, accordingly, as merry a crew as the twenty love'siok maidens themselves were at the doors of the Museum, where "Patience" had began its career, that warm afternoon; Joe grave, and supporting Aunt Eunice, who looked like a queen about to do jusfcico on an heir-apparent; but Emeline and Charles and John and Marion and Hal and I and the rest, all but Mr. Rivas, full of quivering oxcitoment over the suppressed fun of seeing Rosalys and Gladys and their painting chaps put to the burlesque I don't remember that I ever saw anything more ludicrous than Aunt Eunice in the first scene of the love-sick-maidens. She evidently had not the faintest idea of burlesque or satire; she had supposed she was going to a melodrama, or one ofthe light comedies of her youth.'hardly having been in atheatre for twenty years, Bat those dreary damozelsl "Why don't they put their clothes on.properly?" she was muttering; "and sow up their sleeves? Love-sick maidens I Shameless hussies I Talking in thatfashion. 'To-dayheisnotwell?' And I shouldn't think he would be after eating butter with a table-spoon?" But when Mr. Bunthorne made his appearance, my aunt began to writhe in her seat; when he read his verses, she untied her hat, and threw the strings back violently; not a sinilo disturbed the majestic contempt on her countenance, and with the last words of the song, " Why, what a most particularly pure young man this pure young man must be 1" she turned to me with a gasp, and said, "Tell me, tell ine, am I going crazy? Or is this place really full of people who have come here to listen to this abominable fool?" Vigorous nudges on all the angles she presented, however, brought Aunt Eunice to the recollection of herself, and she smothered her wrath temporarily, only to have it blaze up again at „he "Willow waly 0" of Grosvenor asking Patience to marry him when he had seen her but three minutes, as she had hoarsely whispered. What Aunt Eunice would have said if she had waited to hear the duet of Reginald and Lady Jane, "Sing 'Booh to you—pooh, pooh to you 1' and that's what I shall say;" whether she would havo found anything delighting and amusing in the attitude and play of the three handsome young dragoons got up regardless of expense in the Botticellian style, "perceptively intense and consummately utter," I don't know. For when the lovely sunflower scene of the travestie came, and Grosvenor dawned on us again with his beauty, followed by his maidens with their archaic mandolins and lyres and zithers in hand, lovely little shapes out of Era Angelico's pictures, wavering and bowing and bending and turning and falling in rhythmical circle about him, like so many etherealized sunflowers, each yearningwith her face toward the god, Aunt Eunice rose in her might, her bonnet falling into her hand, " Come along," she said aloud-" come along with ine, every one of you, I won't sit here another minute, and see people gaping at fools that behave exactly as our Rosalie does with that extraordinary fool of-a Rivas!" They might have heard her all across the theatre. I don't know whether they did or not. For, if you will believe hV we dared do nothing else than obey her; we couldn't sit still after that, and we couldn't let Aunt Eunice go off alone in that infuriated- state, and, one and all, we rose and went after her, Emeline and Charles, and John and Marion, and Joe and Hal and I and the remainder, certainly affording a spectacle of as great fools as those upon the stage. • -,..', However, we knew we should.see the ; play. again; and, for the rest of it, it was rather fun to us; Aunt Eunice answered well

;enougli;for bur Lady Jane, and we ;had:a,J roaring ,f arcs ; all /to ourselvea'pn the way home, with our quips and "jokes over 'Aunt Eunice's indignation—all but little-Rosalie,". who sat rather pale and still through the uproar, and reading, her libretto quite.studl-, onsly. '■"' *" Our hilarity supported us over the teatable, and we had separated to dross for the fancy party, having overcome Aunt Eunice's objections, when, just as I closed my door, I heard a sudden little' wail from the garden under my'window-Looking but through my shutter I saw Rosa standing' among the weeds in her sunflower bed] her hands ■ upon her face, and crying bitterly. 'There were no blossoms on those two sunflower'stems; Joe went stalking over' toward her. 1 " Ob. I" she said, looking,up, her face lovelier than I ever thought it was before, as one last ray , of sunlight played in the streaming tears and' the fading blushes and the shining azure eyes, Vwould yon have thought it?; Rivas* has , taken my sunflowers that<he knew I was nursing so. • He is going to bo Apollo, and' he says they suit him so miioh better,'and he will wear them to-night, arid paint them tomorrow when they begin-to droop,"he says,' with the kisses of the—of the sun-god.' And he picked them while I was gone.. He—he stole thorn 1" "' ; ' •

"Riraa be dashed I" I heard Joo say,' or something of the sort, ■' " And—and—oh, Joe, is it trae?' Have you really taken your passage for Melbourne? Oh, Joe, aren't you going to take me with you. ?" And out went the white arms to Joe,

But Joe was stoutly drawing back,: "I don't know that I want to," he said. And then came such another little wail, and Rosa had turned away, hiding her face in the hollow of her pretty lifted lam a strictly honorable person, I scorn eaves-dropping. I pulled downtho shade, I knew how it was all going to end after that just as well as I did when I passed an/arbor in Gladys's garden that night after almost' everyone had been obliged to seek: shelter from the ohilly dews, and saw theorumpled: Morning Star warmly folded in the arms of, Guy of Warwick, whose helmet lifted off showed a great head of yellow curls bending over a rosy little face, where eyes and lips and smiles all looked as if the owner's sensations were but" just too jolly uttir I" ■