New Orleans Republican., 1868-12-12

| Wrapb atenblou 70 every nOteJ
somewhat handsome Frenchman, of de
cided foreign cir could be seen prone
nading In front of the old ruins, crossing
and recrossing the somewhat broad alley
way, down which he caught glimpses of La
Belle Creole; and as he passed the alley-waJ
seme several feet would pause and listen tc
the sweet sounds even as the mocking- bird
was listening, and, child as she was, these
stolen glimpses and that wonderful voice
had SO far done their work in his heart that
he had fingered two weeks behind his time
for the luxury of these stolen glances and
sweet sounds. Yet, though he had made
inquiries and ascertained who she was, and
might have obtained an Introduction to her
father and managed an entrance into her
presence, he had made no such effort, al.
though he lost no single opportunity OF
watching her from the window, and if she
started back to Gull bouquet of flowers he
was sure to be standing in the back alley.
way, concealed from her observation
where he could have full view of her face
and watch her rounded form in all its grace
OF motion. We have said that he had lin
gered two weeks, but this could not last al
ways, and this very evening he had resolved
must be his last. The air was laden with
the perfume of flowers, and as soft and
balmy as the zephyrs famed from the wings
of angels as it waited about the moss.grown
old ruin; the last lingering rays of the set
ting sun seeming like the warm tint cast
up from bed of roses, gathered about the
brow of the beautiful child, and played at
hide and seek amid the clustering curls of
her classic head. A gentle spirit of all things
beautiful seemed breathing upon the air
and whispering within her heart; her eyes,
dark as midnight, were lustrious and liquid
with the glowing passion of her soul, and
her voice caught fullness and trembling
pathos far beyond her years as the notes
rolled up from her throat and floated out
upon the air, filing it with melody never
to be forgotten.
Until this evening the foreigner, French
man as he was, had never forgotten his
caution. but now, with arms outslretched
toward the window, from whence the child's
head had receded the instant her eyes
caught a glimps of his rapidly advancing
figure, he rushed up the alleyway, crying,
Beautiful, beautiful, la belle Creole; oh!
beautiful; come to my eyes again" And
for his extravaganza heard the ringing
laugh ofthe clear childish voice from within,
and realizing his ridiculous position, turned
and strobe rapidly from the spot.
"Ah la belle Marie, beautiful, beautiful
We will see what bright things the old
Wisaic will tell my retit bijou. She can not
tell any thing bad to one so beautiful"
Old Magic had lain out snowy white
robes and a scarf of deep rose color
for Marie, to make herself ready for visit
to an old crone who professed to mold with
in her being mystical powers of vision into
the future of human life, and less devoted
heart would have called the child beautiful,
as she stood before her thus arrayed, with
cluster Of moss rosebuds nesting in her
dark curls, and another rising and falling
upon her breast, as it heaved and sank after
the merry fit of laughter which but a mo-
ment before convulsed her rounded form.
Old Magic had long desired this visit, but
superstitious dread of something dark for
her foster child had kept her vascllating;
but at last superstition had triumphed, and
she now sought to propitiate the old crone
by the beauty of her child, and, after many
cautions to Marie not to laugh, and to be
perfectly respectful or she would spoil all,
she enyeloped her as nearly as she could in
O liOht daaav pih ska Ia
her.
Strangely battling TO our intelligence Is
the almost weird spell which the mysterious
possesses over the spirit OF man; laugh at it
as our intelligence may, all feel it to
greater or less degree; and as we approach
The dwelling of old Mother Garitry aud OF
serve its dilapidated air. and the sombre
hues with which she had managed to invest
It, and look upon her face, old and shriveled,
yet family retaining marks ofa commanding
style of womanhood-with large gray eyes,
partially covered by wrinkled, drawn lids,
leoking up into our face with half wild,
strangely searching eye, or, peering far
away from earth, seems seeking out things
vailed from human ken by the imperfectiops
Of humanity which shroud our souls here
upon earth--we are by no means surprised
at the unbounded confidence which old
Magic gave to her phrophetic power
The house, built almost beyond
The city limits, looked as though it had once
been a quaint little French chapel. The
windows were long and narrow, con-
aiming only two rows of little long glasses,
ihe doors were also long and narrow, while
'he walls, which were of brick plastered
over in imitation of granite, were scanned
md cracked, and in various parts with
great patches Of yellowish white over them
where the outer plastering had crumbled |
away; old, half dead vines, woven into net.
work, clambered up crumbling posts and
reached out their dismantled tendrils into |
'he open space around. As they entered a |
little dark yestibule, on one side hung rusty |
wire cage containing a raven, black as night, |
which had been taught to croak out kind |
If noise, sounding like never more.p On |
he other side was suspended bright. |
,olored cage, in form of Swiss cottage; |
n this were two beautiful white doves. |
As Magic and her little charge entered
his yestibule the raven ruf1ed his black |
1lumage slightly and slowly croaked out |
'he dismal, prophetic words s'never moren |
hen settled quietly down with smoothed |
Gathers upon his perch. Old Magic stag.
sered back q step and turned deadly pale;
put an instant more and the doves were
gently cooling, tapping their white wings |