Saint Paul weekly Minnesotian. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1858-1859, 1858-10-30
From the Knickerbocker Magazine.
THE JASPER SIGNET.

ureS OF the paSSerS-by, and neiSnporS owe
the way on their stoops, with their childre
playing around them. The air was full ofcon
fused sounds-fragments of conversation, tn
patter of feet, and the rumble of distan
wheels. l was not in the mood to enjoy ii
took up my pistol, which lay on the tabl
before me, and handing it curiously, wonder
ed if anything would ever drive me to shoe
myself
1t was a dark time in my life the darkest
thought, that had ever seen. | was on
of money, out of friends, and out of hope
And, worst of all, my child, my darling littl
Ambrose, was sick He lay in the next room
in a raging fever; the foldingdOors between
us were closed, but his low mOans reached
me, and struck pang to my heart. From
time to time through the day had sat by hi
bedside, holding his burning hands, but wheI
evening came | could bear it no longer; wa
sick with pity. took up a book to forge
myself, but | could not make sense of wha
read; my mind would wander off in the mid
die of paragraph How indeed could for
get the child, when everything in the room re
minded me of him Within reach stood hi
| rocking horse ; his toys were scattered owe
the sofa. Under the edge of the bookcase
saw the toes of his little shoes, and on the ia
BILE lay a withered posy, which he had gather
ed a day or two before. 1t was bunch o
wild flowers, and they were withcred anC
dead, but could not throw them away.
would have preserved even weed, if his hant
had touched it !
| sat and smoked until it grew too dark tt
to see distinctly. The neighbOrs withdrew
into their houses, and lighted the lamps. The
sounds in the streets died away, but the all
was noisier than ever, innumerable crickets
wee chriping "Ah WELL" said | with sigh
"there is no use in my sitting here idle any
longr: may as well go to work"
turned on the gas, and drew my table uI
to the light. | have not mentioned, | believe
that was an author, but as said Twas poor
the acute reader may have guessed it. Yes
| was an author then; a poor author, miscr
able literary hack, turning my pen to every
thing. was equally good Cor bad) at prose
or poetry. | wrote heavy articles for the re-
views, and light paragraphs for the journals
to say nothing of sensation-romances for the
weeklies and poetry for everything. l had
poem to write that night, comic poem
the cuts with which it was to be illustrated
which were supposed to be drawn for it, (O
course at great eXpense) lay before me, not
yet transferred from Punch, touching the fad
ed flowers of my child Ipressed the posy
to my lips, and breathing prayer for his re-
cOvery, took up my pen and began to write.
The contrast between my circumstances and
what was writing-a panegyric on wealth
-sharpened my wits. rioted in a world o.
fantastic creations, scattering jokes and puns
broadcast "There," said l, after one of my
brilliant coruscations, "that will delight the
editor of the Barbarian. The poor man thinks
me funny" l remembered the last poem that
| had offered him, and smiled bitterly. 1t was
a stately and noble piece of thought, yet he
declined t,and ordered the trash which was
then writing. | would not have touched it
but formy little Ambrose, but sick child must
have physician and nurse. And happy
snail be-" thought, ''if it ends there n'-
Walking out that day had seen little cof
fin in the window Of an undertaken had by,
and now it came back to my memory, and ill
led me with solemn iorebodings. imagain-
cd that | saw it on the table, with my child
in it, holding the withered flowers in his fold
cd hands ! laid down my pen and listcned
l could not hear him. "Perhaps he is dead, .
whispered. The thought gave me a shock
and the tears rushed to my eyes. [ was
certainly in fine trim for writing comic po
en-!
At that moment there was a tap at the door
"Come in" said |, drying my eyes hastily
The door opened, and in walked Arthur Cur
ney. | did not recognize him at first, for
had seen him but once before, and that was
large party; beside, my eyes were dim witt
writing. But when he came to the light,
remembered his face, and shook him by the
hand.
81 see you are at work." he said. eff
once"
Don't" replied II can spare an hou,
or two as well as not"
He,.seated himself in my armchair, ant
cast his eyes around the chamber. | coult
not tell whether he was taking an inventory o
my worldly goods and possessions or whether
he was collecting his thoughts before com
mencing conversation. looked at him in
tently for a few minutes knew not why ,bu
felt strange fascination drawing me tewarC
him. There was subtle communication,
mesmeric telegraph as it were, between us
His soul flashed messages to mine-mysteri
Gus messages in cipher, which received ant
read, but could not understand. Had he beer
woman instead of a man, | should have
understood his power over me. His face wa.
pale and delicately cut his eyes were larg,
and black There was something Spanish il
his appearance, but no Spaniard could hav,
been so fair. A sentimental young lady would
have scorned that cheap distinction. He wa
gentleman, a noble gentleman in grief
Well" said he, shave you finished star
ing at me?" Twas not aware that he had motto
ed me, he appeared so oblivious of my pres
ence.
beg your pardon, but could not hell
it. But pray, Mr.. Gurney-I am sure yo'
will not think me rude-tO what am in
debted for the honor of this visit ?"
Like you, could not helpit. | sat alone
in my room thinking Of many things, whel
suddenly you came into my mind, and
thought | ought to come and see you. |
seemed to me that you could do somethin,
| for me %
" But what is the matter with you /? YO'
appear well, and well to dO-One of the sleel
darlings of the world as Evelyn says il
Money" | will give you advice, if you in
sist upon it, which take to be pretty goo,
proof of friendship. will even write you al
acrostic, if you think your lady love can b
won by poetry In short, l will do almos
anything but lend you my money; that car
not do. But that fancy, is the last thin
that you would expect from me-"
He shook his head. "Have you anythin
to drink p The suddenness of the questiO
made me smile in spite of myself,
"What will you have, Monsieur Gurney?-
Chateau Margeau, or Verzenay! But pei
haps you would like some Hungarian wine, o
a bottle of Johannisberg ~
Whatever you have, sir, whatever yo
have"
remembered that had bottle of schnapp
in the next room, and rose to get it. Ipasse
out into the hall, and groped my way alon
the entry until reached the door that led il
to the sic1-chamber There was candl
burning in the corner when entered, but
was shaded so effectually that had to lgh
a match. The flask for which came, wa
standing in little cabinet at the end of the bee
moved on tip-toe to the bedside, and ben
my face close down to that Of the child.
could not see him distinctly, but I fetl hi
short, quick breath; it was like the blast of
furnace. | touched his hand; he was cor