Litchfield enquirer., 1862-06-12
By T. B. ALDR1cH, in the Atlantic Monthly fo for June. ssa PERE ANTOINE'S DATE PALM.
 A LEGEND OF NEW ORLEANS.

4a PERE ANToINE'S DATE PALM. l A LEGEND OF NEW ORLEANs
 I-MIss BADEAU.
 1 It is useless to disguise the fact; Miss Badear is rebel.
 MT. Beauregard's cannon had not done batter. ing the walls of Sumter, when Miss Badeau was packed up, labelled, and sent north, where she has remained ever since in sort of aromatic rose-colored state of rebellion
 She is not one of your blood-thirsty rebels you know; she has the good sense to shrink with horror from the bare mention of those heather who, at Manassas and elsewhere, wrecked theil unmanly spite on the bodies of dead heroes still she is bitter little rebel, with blonde hair superb eyelashes, and two brothers in the con. federate seryice,-f may be allowed to club the statements. When look across the narrow strait of our boarding house table, and observe what handsome wretch she is, begin to think that if MT. Seward doesn't presently take her in charge, I shall. r The preceding paragraphs have little or noth- ing to do with what l am going to relate they merely illustrate how wildly fellow will write, when the eyelashes of pretty woman get tan gled with his pen. So let them stand, as a warning. My exordium should have taken this shape :-
 I hope and trust,' remarked Miss Badeau, in that remarkably scathing tone which she assumes in alluding to the U. s. A., hope and trust, that, when your five hundred thousand, more or less, capture my New Orleans, they will have the good taste not to injure Pere Antoine's date palm ....z Not hair of it's head shall be touched' I replied, without having the faintest idea of what l was talking about. .. An! l hope not she said. There was a certain tenderness in her voice which struck me. e'.t 'Who is Pere Antoine ? ventured to ask | And what is this tree which seems to interest you so?
 I will tell you.'
 Then Miss Badeau told me the following le- gend, which think worth writing down. If it should appear tame to the reader, it will be be cause haven't black-rbbed silk dress, and a strip of point lace around my throat, like Miss Badeau; it will be because I haven't her eyes and lips and music to tell it with, confound me | 1.-THE LEGEND.
 | Near the leree (quay) and not far from the old French Cathedral, in New Orleans, stands a fine date-palm, some thirty feet high, growing out in the open air as sturdy as if its roots were suck ing sap from their native earth. Sir Charles Ly- ell, in his Second Visit to the United States mentions this exotic :-'' The tree is seventy or eighty years old; for Pere Antoine, Roman Catholic priest, who died about twenty years ago, told Mir. Brnger that he planted it him. self, when he was young. In his will he provi- ded that they who succeeded to this lot ofground should forfeit it, if they cut down the palm
 Wishing to learn something of Pere Antoine s history, Sir Charles Lyell made inquiries among the ancient Creole inhabitants of the 1au5ourg. That the old priest, in his last days, became very much emaciated, that he walked about the streets like a mummy, that he gradually dried up, and finally blew away, was the meagre re- suit of the tourists Investigations.
 This is all that is generally known of Pere Antoine. Miss Badeau story clothes these bare facts.
 When Pere Antoine was very young man, he had a friend whom he loved as he loved his eyes. Emile Jardin returned his passion, and the two, OH account of their friendship, became the marvel of the city where they dwelt. One was never seen without the other for they stud jed, walked, ate, and slept together.
 Antoine and Emile were preparing to enter the church; indeed, they had taken the prelimi nary steps, when a circumstance occurred which changed the color of their lives.
 | foreign lady from some far-oG island in the Pacific, had a few months before moved into their neghborhood. The lady died suddenly, leaving girl of sixteen or seventeen entirely friendless and unprovided for. The young men had been kind to the woman during her illness, and at her death, melting with pity at the forlorn situation of Anglice, the daughter, swore be- tween themselves to love and watch over her as if she were their sister.
 Now Anglice had wild, strange beauty that made other women seem tame beside her; and in the-eourse of time the young men found them selves not regarding their ward so much like brothers as at first. They struggled with their destiny manfully, for the holy orders which they were about to assume, precluded the idea of love.
 But every day taught them to be more fond of her. So they drited on. The weak like to tenn. porize.
 One night Emily Jardin and Anglice were not to be found. They had fown-but whither no body knew, and nobody save Antoine, cared.
 It was heavy blow to Antoine-for he had half made up his mind to run away with her himself -sE A strip of paper slipped from volume on An. toine's desk, and futtered to his feet. I Do not be angry," said the bit of paper, pit eously; forgire as, tor aCe lore."
 Three years went by. Antoine had entered the church, and was already looked upon as a rising man; but his face was pale and his heart leaden, for there was no sweetness in life for him.
 I Four years had elapsed, when letter, covered with outlandish stamps, was brought to the young priest-a letter from Anglice. She was dying would he forgive her? Emile, the yeal previous, had fallen victim to the fever that ragged on the island and their child, little An glice, was likely to follow him. In pitiful terms she begged Antoine to take charge of the child until she was old enough to enter convent The epistle was finished by another hand, in forming Antoine of Madame Jardin's death il also told him that Anglice had been placed on g vessel shortly to leave the island for some wes tern port. ia ass. r. = The letter was hardly read and wept over when little Anglice arrived. On beholding her Antoine uttered a cry of joy and surprise--shs was so like the woman he had worshippsd..
 As mans tears are more pathetic than { woman's, so is his love more intense-uot more enduring, or half so subtle, but intenser. The passion that had been crowded down in his heart broke out and lavished it's richness or this child, who was to him not only the Anglic' of years ago, but his friend Emile Jardin also. Il Anglice possessed the wild, strange beauty o her mother-the bending, willowy form, the rict tnt of skin the large tropical eyes, that had al Imost made Antoines sacred robes mockery t him.
 si For month or two Anglce was wildly un happy in her new home. She talked continual. :. of the bright country where she was born, tn fruits and flowers and blue skies. Antoine coult 7 not pacify her.. By and-by she ceased to weep and went about tue cottage with dreary, dis consulate air, that cut Antoine to the heart. Be , fore the year ended, he noticed that the rudd, ], tinge had fed from her cheek, that her eyes hat