Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1848-04-27


in living but that of tormenting her Some chai
liable persons wanted to persuade her that tn
good man might wish TO live for his own sake, G
! perhaps for that of his little daughter Annette
! but Madame Marengo only smiled incredulous
| ly she knew better than that IL was remark
able proof of the sympathy which will sometime
| exist even between inveterate foes, that M. Ca
mus was precisely of similar opinion. lie at
fected, however, to look upon Madame Maieng
with calm contempt, and certain degree Of tn
heroic resignation which is generally found t.
characterize lofty spirits 1t was not the car
deuse, he declared, who acted, but a hidden
mysterious power within her. He forpaye her
for he knew she was not free agent, but merel,
the instrument Of that fatality which delights il
prosecuting genius. When people advised hin
10 leave the house, he seemed to compassionate
their ignorance, and informed them that Madam,
Marengo would follow him wherever he went
that he did not however, blame her for this; sb,
could not help herself And he generally CLOSED
his remarks with quotation from Cornele O.
Racine, IN which the cardcuse was successiyel,
compared to Alfalfa, Agrippna, and Berence, tC
all which poetcal characters the one eyed widow
bore striking resemblance
Thus 1t will be seen that the enlnity of the
cardeuse and the schoolmaster was rather pleas
ant kind Of aflr after all. 1t was something
TO think OF; and whenever they were afflicted
win any little misfortune, they had the comfort
OF hnowlng that 1t must come from the enemy's
quarter, OF course it never signifed whether
there was proof that such was the case or not
NJ Camus and Madame Marengo left proofs to
the vulgar.
The parties were in the full enjoyment of all
their haired, when young working man named
raul Slmoneau, about seventeen years of age
came to lodge in the house, and took one of the
atllcs on the same landing with Madame Maren-
60 lie was one of those joyous, contented-
looking beings whose constant good humor Sc
cures them universal good Twill. The world. af-
ter ALL is generally disposed to be friendly with
those who seem to be at peace with their own
hearts, Though Paul was without relations or
near friends, and though he earned but little in
comparison with his wants he was not merely
resigned to his fate, like SO many people, but
perfectly satisfied with it. which was perhaps
better still and certainly more pleasant to him.
self. He soon became a great favorite with
Madame Marengo. She had resolved at first to
be exceedingly reserved; not approving of init.
Inacles between neighbors, as such affairs wit
ness herse'f and NJ. Camus never ended well.
bnt tins philosophy would not do when applied
to Paul. In the first place, he had one of those
clear pleasant voices which are perfectly ire
sistlble; so at least thought the sergeants widow,
when she heard him singing in the morning some
popular strain OF Beranger's, almost always re-
ferrlng to the Grdnde .4rmee or to her darling
emperor. Then, III spite of herself her heart
yearned towards him; for he reminded her of
her youth, and OF a son about his own age, whom
she had lost many years ago, and who sang the
very same songs. Listening to him thus morn
ing after morning. the cardeuse could not help
occasionally opening the door of her room and
thrustlng ont her head Just to give him a good
humored nod as he went out TO his work. Paul
answered by taking off his cloth cap, and polite
y inquirng after her health. With all her
roughness, Madame Marengo was a rigid form.
alst. She would have felt highly indignant had
a man. no matter of what degree, addressed her
with his hat on: and she was the more eXactug
OF such homage, that she knew it was no longer
paid to her personal attractions, but 10 her sex
and military service. When Paul, therefore.
stood before her with his cap in his hand, the
good dame, smiling on him with gratfed pride,
could not but inquire if there was any thing she
might do for him? Should she give look to
his little room, or feed his bird whilst he was out,
or do any little thing of the kind? Paul gener-
ally accepted OF her kind services; for he saw
that Madame Marengo was never happier than
when she had made his little room quite neat,
sewed loose button on his coat, or rendered
him any trlting service. In this manner, from
mere acqualntances, they soon became friends.
she loved The young Nottingham for his never
falling good-humor, which seemed to her TO
gladden. the whole Of the gloomy house for the
few hours he spent in it and he liked the car.
deuse for her quaint sayings, old stories of long
fought battles, and the genuine kindness which,
Notwithstanding her outward roughness, still
lived at her heart.
1t happened that M. Pascal Camus, who was,
however, far more exclusive than even Madame
hnrnnnn Ilfo hor .s..l
by the cheerfulness and good.temper of Paul
Slmoneau 1t was this worthy genteman's hab
it, when his pupils had retired for the evening,
to sit on chair near the thr shold of his school
room, and thence mark attentiyely who went up
or came down the stairs. The Fortress, whose
Office he thus usurped, was highly indignant at
his presumption, which she ascribed to over
weening curiosity; but M. Pascal Camus, like
all true philosophers, delighted to observe human
nature, and he declared that he had learned more
by sitting al his door, with his little Annette work
ing by his side, than from the reading of heavy
foios,
1t was thus he first saw Paul Smoneau com
ing home from his work in the evening, with his
bag of tools thrown on his shoulder and ascen.
ding the steep staircase that led 10 his attic,
with step so free and elastic, that Nj. Camus,
who ayerred that he knew mans temper by his
tread, instantly saw that Paul was perfectly hap
Ply, The young mun did not fail, on his part to
notice the schoolmasters quaint and stumpy fig
ure; but seeing him, evening after evening, in
The same attitude for either summer or winter,
NJ. Camus was at his post-he began to think
that he could not pass by him without some to-
ken Of recognition. Not wishing, however, to
make too free - there being nothing particularly
inviting IN NJ. Camus' solemn visage-he merely
bowed as he passed the door of tie school room.
Here was proper concession. The schoollnas
ter acknowledged his bow by condescendng
nod but though ii would not have looked digni
ied to be pleased, he was, to say the truth,
exceedingly grathed. There must be something
truly delightful IN natural courtesy, for it seldom
fails TO conclate: the most rugged and stern
are sotened by it, because they feel that it is not
a mere empty form; they see that it comes from
the heart.
NJ. Pascal Camus, though wise aud learned
man, was not above being pleased with the def
erence of those whom he considered his inferi.
oIs Paus bow showed the secret but respect
iul admiration which he felt for his - NJ. Camus'
character; his not venturing on any undue ia
mlllarity, also spoke in his favor; in short, the
schoolmaster was so well pleased with the young
working man, that his nod became more conde-
scehdlng every evening" until he at last, one day,
actually asked him to walk in, This interview
SO heightened his good opinion of Paul, that he
frequently removed his invitations and the young
man. who found the schoolmaster's conversation