The Family Circle

New Zealand Tablet, 13 May 1915, Page 61

The Family Circle

-- - ,THE PAPER DOLL POEM. / Oh, once there was a paper doll, :;.>;, Named Clementina Blue, _- : ' " Who wished to sport and swim about ,;'; The way the gold fish do. Quite near the fish aquarium » . She sat one winter's day— Her mother'd left her sitting there And gone outdoors to play ! "i -V The water looked so still and clear That—what do you suppose ? Our Clementina climbed the side— Jumped in with all her clothes. The rest, is very, very sad, For Clementina found The water cold and wet and not " As pleasant as the ground. The paint washed off her face And the paint washed off "her clothes. The goldfish nibbled at her head, Her fingers and her toes. A-floating on the water's top Her mother found her limply, All torn and soaked and ragged And a ruined dolly—simply ! THE. KING'S SILVERSMITH. One November morning in the year 1479 a galloping horse, sped down the avenue, shaded by great trees, that led from the city of Tours to Plessis Castle, the residence of Louis XL, King of France. The horse's rider was a tall and gaunt old man, dressed in a ragged suit of clothes. His sinister countenance wore an air of preoccupation, and his heels kept drubbing the flanks of his steed in order to keep up its rapid gait. Notwithstanding his miserable appearance, this old man was, after the king, the wealthiest person in all France. His name was Cornelius Hoogworst. A native of Ghent, he had been invited by King Louis to move from Belgium to France; and he was at present the French monarch's silversmith. Despite the sentinels stationed, at the Castle's entrance, the horse flew over the drawbridge like a winged arrow and, entering the courtyard, gave its rider considerable trouble in bringing it to a- standstill. Having dismounted, Master Cornelius, as he was commonly called at the Castle, sought the apartments of the King, and was introduced to his Majesty's study by Oliver the Dwarf, the lowborn but shrewd adviser of his sovereign. 'Well, Master Cornelius,' said the King, ' what grave business brings you here so early as this?' ' The gravest sort of business, your Majesty. Last night I was robbed of a sapphire necklace.' The King started: he was just as avaricious and covetous as the silversmith. They understood each other thoroughly, and this misfortune affected both of them equally. . .'..•'. ' We'll have the robber hanged!' cried Louis. ' So much the better, Sire,—so much the better. I feared you might wish to show him some indulgence ; for the robber is your protege, that young apprentice whom you advised me to take into my service. ' Young Bothwell?' 'Yes, Sire.' \ ' How do you know that he committed the robbery?' . " , . ' , 'Sire, nobody lives in the house save him and me. Last night the necklace was in its place in my strong box; this morning it has disappeared. The lock of the box was not broken there is no trace of the cover s

being prised up. - The rascal doubtless stole my key i while was asleep, and replaced' it later; or else he opened the. box with a key made by himself. In any • case, he's the robber.'; / -.;,:; - ; : "7 Very well, my friend: he shall be hanged.' ~ ..' And my necklace? Who will restore it ? Already I've looked everywhere for it, but in vain.' j.?v>S * Before putting the young fellow : to death, we'll. have him tortured a little. That will help him to > talk.' ■ > : f -:\ ;,.'•: Master Cornelius went out, * mounted his horse, % and rode home at a smart pace; while the King- ; dispatched alter him his provost-marshal, Tristan, who filled also the office of executioner, with his assistants. In his little bedroom" Charles Both well, the young apprentice, was still sleeping as only boys can, when the lugubrious procession of the executioner and his companions entered the silversmith's .house. This house, built of solid stone, looked more like a prison than a private dwelling. It had great, heavy doors secured by enormous locks, and its narrow windows were protected by iron bars. There - seemed to be small chance of any robber's being able to break into it from the outside. , I ' Come, up with you!' said Tristan, seizing Charles by the collar of his night-shirt. ; The boy jumped up, with the exclamation: ' Holy Mother! What's the matter Then, cognising the officer of justice, he said, fearfully: / O sir, I haven't done anything! Our Lady «knows I haven't ~- " ~ You may tell all that to the judges. Just now, get your clothes on and come with us.' The terrified boy did as he was told, and was shortly ready to accompany Tristan. - _' . In the meanwhile the news had spread that something unusual was happening at the silversmith's, and a crowd had gathered. Cornelius was not liked by the citizens of Tours: his ill looks, rough manners, and the mystery that shrouded his way of life had made him very unpopular. In fact, he was accused of sorcery ; and, had it not been for the King's protection,"his prison-like house would have been demolished long before this November morning. As it was, there were some hostile cries raised when young Both well appeared, his hands tied behind his back. . . , Tristan, having mounted his steed, looked around at the crowd, and said : ' My good people, go back home and see whether your rashers of bacon are not burning.' His words failing to disperse the throng gathered in front of the house, Tristan gave a signal to his mounted guards, who at once pressed against the nearest citizens, driving them back. Then, when the executioner cried out, Way for the justice of the King!' the crowd dissolved, and, breaking into groups, speedily disappeared. Now, several hours after the arrival of the prisoner at' Plessis, an artisan from Tours came to the castle and begged to see his friend, Oliver the Dwarf. On being admitted, he told Oliver a strange story,nothing less than that he had, 'the night before, seen a phantom walking on the roof of the house of his neighbor, Master Cornelius. Oliver reported the matter •to the King, who sent for his physician, Dr. Coyctier, and then had the artisan brought in to repeat his story. As a result, the examination and the incidental torture of young Both well were postponed. The poor apprentice's protestations of innocence and his prayers to the Blessed Virgin to help him in his extremity had been reported to Louis, who, moreover, felt loath to believe in the guilt of the boy whose "father, an apothecary of Tours, was one of the King's best friends. About twilight that same evening, a small troop left Plessis Castle and proceeded to Tours. It was made up of the King and his usual companions, Dr. Coyctier, Tristan, Oliver, and Cunningham, captain of the Scotch Guard, with a detachment of his men. ; Arriving at the house of Master Cornelius, Oliver seized the iron knocker on the door, and, sounding it several times, cried:- -- . „■ • . 'Hello, there! Open,open!'

Cornelius looked out from an upper window, and, seeing that Louis was of the party, hurried down, undid the chains, and threw open the door. ~ - . Comrade !’ said the King, ‘ I was afraid you might be robbed again so we are going to spend the night with you.’ ; - / God forbid that I should be robbed a second time ! groaned the silversmith. ‘We haven’t yet found the necklace stolen by that scapegrace of an apprentice, lias he spoken? Has he been put to the torture?’ ‘ Not yet,’ replied the King. Cornelius lifted his arms to heaven, deploring the slowness of justice. Louis XI., however, and his companions, without further ado, betook themselves to different rooms for the night. The Scotch Guard were placed outside with a few of them upon the roof. When these dispositions had been made, the King said : ‘Now, I must have a bag of flour. Master Cornelius, let me have some of the flour that serves you for bread-making.’ The astonished silversmith had not the slightest idea as to what the King wanted with the flour, but he knew Louis XI. well enough to ask no questions. He accordingly furnished the flour, and with genuine grief saw it scattered over the floor, from the sleeping apartments all the way to the room which contained the strong box, and on the floor of that room also. Everybody slept peacefully during the night there was no alarm of any kind. In the morning, however, there was a loud cry of anger and despair. Sire, Sire, I’ve been robbed again!’ And Master Cornelius hurried from his treasure room, where he had been examining his hoard, to the apartment of the King. Louis dressed himself quickly and went to examine the flour-strewn passage. Large footprints were seen • here and there. Dr. Coyetier and the others marked .the traces attentively. ‘ Here’s a pretty large foot,’ said the King. How did a Colossus with such feet ever got into my house?’ groaned Cornelius. ‘ Through your room, compeer,’ replied Louis. ‘My room!’ exclaimed the silversmith. ‘lmpossible! I heard nothing whatever.’ He even got oil’ your bed,’ persisted the King. * Cornel was in a state of stupefaction. Louis sent for the silversmith’s slippers. They were brought to him; he placed them on the footprints, and they fitted exactly. ‘Are you convinced now?’ asked the King. ‘ But—but—-then ’tis myself who am the robber, — myself who have robbed myself! No, no! 1 remember nothing. You are hoaxing me, Sire.’ The Scotch Guard, being examined, declared that in the course of the night the silversmith had appeared on the roof clad only in nightgown and slippers. They thought that he was the victim of insanity. So the mystery was explained. Cornelius was a somnambulist, a sleep-walker. The scientists of that day had not studied the phenomena of somnambulism, and consequently had not invented the word ; but some physicians, Dr. Coyctier among them, had already noticed that some persons were afflicted with a disease that caused them to act during their sleep without being conscious of doing so, and without remembering, on awaking, anything they had done. Young Charlie Bothwell was at once freed, and went back home, refusing all overtures to renew his apprenticeship at the silversmith’s. ‘ No, thank you !’ he replied when the offer was made to him. ‘ With our Lady’s help, I’ve got out of one pretty bad scrape, and I’m not in a hurry to get into another one.’ As for Cornelius, his malady grew worse and worse, and his riches diminished very rapidly, —so rapidly, indeed, that he eventually died of a broken heart because, he knew not where they went. He stole from himself while asleep, and hid the treasure so effectively that he could not find it when he awoke. —Ave Maria.

■ • - , • • • ■ • . THE CIRCUS PARROT. ‘One at a time, gentlemen : one at ; a time. Don’t crush.’ , _ <' ’ Hie bird had, of course, acquired this sentence from the ticket-taker* of the show. One day the parrot was lost in the country, and Mr. Forepaugh started out posthaste to hunt for it. People here and there who had seen the parrot directed him in his quest, and finally as he was driving by a field he was overjoyed to hear a familiar voice. He got out and entered the field and found the parrot in the middle of a flock of crows that had pecked him till he was almost featherless. As the crows-bit and nipped away, the parrot, lying on his side, repeated over and over : ‘ One at a time, gentlemen ; one at a time. Don’t crush.’ ' . , A BIG PARTY OF ONE. The story goes that Mr. Taft, in his younger days when he was a law reporter, had been studying a case in Somerville, Ohio, and found he couldn’t get back to the office that night unless he managed to stop a through express. So he wired to headquarters, ‘ Will you stop the through express at Somerville to take on large party?’ The answer came back, ‘ Yes.’ The express was duly stopped at Somerville. The young law reporter got aboard with his copy, and the conductor said: ‘ Where’s that large party I was to take on ?’ ‘l’m him,’ was the grinning answer. ‘That’s all.’ A CLEVER RETORT. Oliver Wendell Holmes enjoyed nothing so much as a. clever retort, even if it happened to be at his own expense. One day at an entertainment he was seated near the refreshment table and observed a little girl looking with longing eyes at the good things. With his invariable fondness for children he said kindly; ‘ Are you hungry, little girl?’ ' Yes, sir,’ was the reply. 1 Then why don’t you take a sandwich?’ ‘ Because I haven’t any fork.’ ‘ Fingers were made before forks,’ said the doctor, smilingly. The little girl looked up at him and replied, to his delight: , 1 Not my fingers.’ ON SLIGHT ACQUAINTANCE. At one of the New England universities there was a rather conceited undergraduate who was silly enough on one occasion to attempt to chaff a member of the faculty who, in the youth’s opinion, evinced too marked a devotion to the works of a certain great philosopher. ‘ Do you know,’ the youth said to his preceptor, ‘I hold rather a contempt for his writings?’ ‘ I greatly fear, young man,’ was the response, ‘ that your contempt lias not been bred by familiarity RETIRED FROM CIRCULATION. Among the Monday morning culprits haled before a Baltimore police magistrate was a darky with no visible means of support. ‘ What occupation have you here in Baltimore V asked his Honor. . , > ‘ Well, jedge,’ said the darky, ‘ I ain’t doin’ much at present—jest circulatin’ round, suh.’ His Honor turned to the clerk of the court and said : ‘ Please enter the fact that this gentleman has been retired from circulation for sixty days.’