Burlington free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1827-1865, 1858-04-23

one OF the sirens of the adjacent stalls " L
it partridge or a pair of quais -
Not exactly, Madame Barbot, wan
something better yet
g A woodcock, perhaps, Monsieur lc mar
gus, or string of snipes -
No, mon eqfam; | want a golden pleas
ant but it must be a pheasant Of the very
best quality"
Instantly, from stall to STALL these word,
were transmitted as though they had been a
telegraphic despatch Eh rons au,ros the
best pheasant in the market for Monsieur de
Cussy.n
Two minutes had scarcely elapsed before a
superb bird with glittering plumagc, passed
on rom stall to stall from the flrthcst point
OF the market, reached the pillar at whose
base stood the former purvcyOr.
. The very thing wantedS said the mar
quis. after a rapid glance at the pheasamt.-
Having wrapped his treasure carefully in n
newspaper, he took from his purse Il piece of
! gold, paid for the pheasant. salutcd the d-
whites of the market with bow expressive
OF the utmost good humor. and disappeared
"And now let me hasten to the spot where
am SO anxiously looked for" he murmur-
ed, as he left the market.
When the Marquis was gone. the salcswo-
men could not keep from sundry little con-
i u "7 " tiic ueStliiatlon OF the pheasant.
- Who can it be for?" said one. Is it for
the English Ambassador" said another
'Perhaps it is for the Baron de Rothscbild. ="
suggested third You look long way
off, interposed a fourth YOU forget that
the Marquis, though not exactly a rich man.
ls still the most delicate eater in all Paris
The golden pheasant, take my word for it, is
for no one but himself"
All these con lectures were equally wide of
the mark. Had the market women been able
to follow the retreating figure of their Gus
toner, they would have seen him regain the
line of the Pont Neuf, and make his wav.
still on foot, along the Rue Montorreuil. to
! the other side of the Fauborg Poissonniere :;
and, after walking some distance in this di-
rection, turn into the nest Of streets, emptv
and quiet, of the Faubourg St. Denis, which
compose the quarter specially affected to
those innumerable petty manufactures usual
ly known as "Articcs de Paris" and con-
shutting so important an item in the industry
of the metropolis. Then, as now. this part
OF the town was densey peopled by an intelli-
gent and industrious population, occupvinr
an intermediate position between the mere
workman and the artist these narrow streets
making up series of industrial hives in
which the carver the photographer, the glider,
musical instrument maker, and the manufac-
turer of every species Of fancy work, carried
on their labors Turning into the Rue Mar
tel, the Marquis entered sordid looking
house, and demanded Monsieur Simon
Leblanc, the porcelain painter
Fourth story, second door to the left"
returned the concierge, without raising his
eyes from the boot at which he was working.
81 know the ROOM said the marquis in
an undertone, us he climbed the dark and
dirty staircase to the apartment of the por-
cclain painter.
y week before, the marquis had made his
way up the dingy stairs for the first time.
and since then he had climbed them regularly
every day.
A certain prince, whose dominions. like
those of so many Others bordered the Rhine.
kept up regular correspondence with the
Marquis, concerning all the details of his ta-
be This potentatc had lately besought his
aid under terrible domestic misfortune that
had just overtakcn him. His Rhcnish High
ness was the posscssor Of very beautiful
service OF painted porcelain, two sauccrs of
which had been broken by a lackey during a
grand gala dinner, at which the beautiful
service in question had figured to the admi-
ration Of all bchOlderS. The service was thus
rendered incomplete and could not be used
again unless the two missing pieces could be
replaced. In his missive the German high
ness entreatcd the Marquis to spare neither
time, nor efforts, nor money to get the two
saucers perfectly matched.
The very day on which he had received the
letter the gastronomer had set to work TO
crafty his princely correspondent, and ad-
dressed himself to all the porcelain painters
most in rcnown. But they We're all fully oc-
cuped At Sevres the workmen were over
rl,,l,, ,,..I, IL, T. II
the private workshops the painters were so
busy that they would pay no heed to the en-
treaties of the marquis. lie could hear but OF
one porcelain worker-Simon Leblanc, the ar
tisan, or rather, we might say, the artist. of
the Rue Martel through whom there was
the slightest chance of obtaining the execution
Of the princes order.
| ' will 60 to the Rue Martel,'' said the
rival of Brillat- t-Savarin.
| a week previous to his morning visit to
the poultry market, the marquis rang al the
door OF Simon Leblanc. \ young woman
opened the door. Her face was Intelligent
and pleasing; but her soft blue eyes had in
them an evident expression of sadness, and
not few gray lines silvered her rich ches
nut hair, which was still very beautiful. -
She was the wife of the painter. The mar
quis' penetration at once OWNED the want
and suffering that had left their traces on
this gentle face
In few words and with much kindness of
manner he explained the object of his visit.
" The work wish to have DONE" he pur-
sued, 4" is easy of execution by painter of
your husbands talent, and will be hand
somely paid. Do you think he will consent to
undertake it?"
The wife seemed to hesitate and did not
reply.
1.-Two saucers for prince" he pursued
land handful of gold in payment
She held down her head too much embar-
raised to make any answer
Monsieur Simon Leblanc has been men
toned to me asa skilful workman" resumed
the marquis, puzzled by the woman's silence.
"Skilful?' she answered, looking up
quickly. so yes, he is very skilful, there
is no doubt about that but unfortunately, -
she added, sadly, " he does not like work
ing"
At this reply the marquis looked scruti-
nizingly ronnd the room, and was struck
with the indications of sordid poverty visible
in every part of it.
"No, he no longer likes to work" re-
sumed the young woman, who had followed
his gance through the room, and seemed to
divine his thoughts. " No doubt this seem,
very strange 10 you, us we are SO poor; bu1
it is unfortunately the simple truth 4,
she spoke her eyes filled with tears.
"P Poor child" murmured the compassion
ate marquis.
Monsieur - said the painters wife
'you seem to be kind and upright and thi,
emboldens me to confde to you the whole
truth"
Say on, madame, say on, - responded tht
marquis, " l am ready to listen to all that
you will tell me-
"My husband" she resumed, - has moi
always been an idler. When we were frs
married, he was the best workman to b,
found he was spoken of as a model. Wha
am going to say will seem to you very