Squatter sovereign., 1855-10-02
M(iseellaneous.
MELNOTTE,
OR,
THE LADY OF LYONS. @'

lic-a period when society In France was
in general ferment, and ranks equalized
Claude Melnotte, the son of gardner,
lived with his widowed mother, in small
cottage in the neighborhood of Lyons. In
the picturesque city lived Pauline Deschap-
pelles, the only daughter and heiress of a
wealthy merchant. She was endowed with
so much beauty, and SO many accomplish
ments, that everybody, old. young, rich
and poor, paid homage to her. Among
her admirers there was no one that
entertained such ardent feelings for
her as Claude Melnotte. During the life
time of his father, he had worked in the
garden Of Monsieur Deschappelles, and
while tending the flowers had seen Pau
line. He saw her spirit Of bloom, and
joy, and freshness the passionate feelings
Of man entered the breast oS the wild,
dreaming boy, and from that hour he grew
what to the last he washer adorer.-
This love. vain and frantic as it seemed,
became to him a fountain of ambition and
bright hope. He thought Of the tales that
he had heard gossips tell by the winter
hearth, how maidens, sprung from kings,
had stopped from their high sphere how
love, like death. levels all ranks, and lays
the shepherds crook beside the sceptre.-
With his high-placed love, his restless feel
ings, and his brilliant hopes, he made his
home in the soft palace of fairy future
His father died, and he became his own
master, whereupon he sought 10 raise HIM
self above his low condition. Pauline
bright image, glassed in his soul, lured
him on to those inspiring tolls by which
man masters man.. He grew a midnight
student over the Dreams Of RACES he
sought to borrow from every grace and ev-
cry muse the attributes that lend ideal
charms to love. He thought of Pauline,
and passion taught him poetry he thought
of her, and the life of beauty grew on the
canvas of the painter. His companions
called him vain-lnad-and he needed
not; but still toiled on, hoped on, for 1t
was sweet, if not to win, to feel more wor-
thy Of the dear object of his passion.
At last, in mad hour. he sent tribute
of song to Pauline-some verses which he
had written of the idol of his heart, to show
it what bright things it bad created. In
stead of feeling proud of the present, Pau
line scorned it, thought there was not
line that serf might no, have written to
an empress the letter was tossed into the
mire by the lackey. who swore that his la
dy and mother never were more insulted /;
and Claude's messenger, Casper, was driv-
en- from the house with blows.
From that hour the love of Claude Mel
notte turned to wrath, almost resembling
hatred. But he was not the only one who
had been made miserable by Pauline
Monsieur Beauseant, rich gentleman,
and whose family had been enrolled be-
fore the revolution, had been refused by
her for no other reason than, as he believ-
ed, because she would not marry COM
moner. His friend, CLAWS, was also re-
iected suitor of hers, and CLAWS was vain
enough to think that he had been refused
for the same reason.
These two friends, in perfect fever Of
modification and rage, and to consulate
themselves in their heart-ache, were pro-
ceading to spend day or two at Beaus-
eant's chateau, when they stopped to bait
the horses and rest an hour ut the Golden
Lion, a small village inn, few leagues
from Lyons. They were standing on the
lawn with the landlord and his daughter,
looking over the bill of fare, when they
heard shouts without, of "Lone live the
prince?' Long live the prince I"
'The prince !" said Beauseant, in tone
Of surprise to the landlord, "What prince
is that thought we had no princes left in
France"
"The lads, sir" replied the landlord,
always call him prince. It's
the pride of the village, Claude Melnotte,
the son of old Melnotse, the gardner"
"And why do they call him prince 2" in
quired Beaseunt.
Partly" replied the landlord, because
he'ls at the head Of them all, and partly
because ne has such proud way with him
and wears such fine clothes-and in short,
look Like a prince. But the revolution
that turns US all ,opsy-turvy. has turned
his brain. mean, sir, the revolution of
love r
Romantic young Corydon - sneereds