The Bloomfield times. [volume] (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1867-187?, 1870-02-15
PAID In HIS OWN COIN.
n GOOD STORY.

Il the 1aSt-Or one OF the laSt-0f
long line of scoundrels who had made
that part of France infamous (to onr ideas)
by succession of cold-blooded murders,
committed under the sanction of what
people were pleased to call the Code Of
Honor. This was certain Comte de
w. q man of great physical strength,
imperturable sangtroid, and relentless
cruelty. Not bad sort Of companion, as
some said, when the ft-was not on him,
but this came on once in about every six
months, and then he must have blood,
it matters little whose. He had killed
and manned boys of sixteen, fathers of
families, military officers, journalists, ad-
yocates, peaceful country gentlemen
The cause of quarrel was of no impor-
tance if one did not present itself read
lily, he made one always contriving that
according to the code aforesaid, he should
be the insulted party, thus having the
choice of weapons; and he was deadly
with the small-sword. 1t is difficult for
us to realize a state of society in which
such wild beast could be permitted to
go at large; but we know it to be histori-
cally true that such creatures were en-
dured in France; just as we are assured
that there were at one time wolves in
Yorkshire, only the less noisome vermin
had harder time Of it as civilization
progressed than was dealt out to the hui
man brute.
The latest exploit Of the Comte de V
-previous to the story that am about
to tell, was to goad a poor young student
into challenge; and when it was repre-
sented to him that the boy had never held
sword in his life, SO that it would be
fairer to use pistols, he replied that fools
sometimes made mistakes with pistols"
and the next morning ran him through
the lungs The evil fit was ON him; but
the blood thus shed quieted him for an
other half year and rather more, for pub
lie opinion was unfavorable, and the air
Of Bordeaux became too warm for him.
But the scandal blew over after time,
and he came back to his old haunts, one
of which was cafe by the river side,
where many used to spend their Sunday.
Into the little garden of this establish
ment our wolf swaggered one fine sum-
mer afternoon, with the heavy dark look
and nervous twitching Of the hands which
those who were acquainted with him
knew well meant mischief The evil fit
was on him consequently he found him
selfin the center ola circle which expand
ed as he went on. This did not displease
him. He liked to be feared. He knew
he could make quarrel when he chose,
so he looked around for a victim
At table almost in the middle of the
garden sat man of about thirty years of
age, of middle height, and an expression
of eountenance which at first struck one
as mild and good humored. He was en-
gagged reading journal which seemed to
interest him, and eating strawberries, an
occupation which does not call forth
any latent strength of character. Above
all, he was profoundly unconscious of the
presence of NJ. lie Comte de v, and
continued eating his straw berries and
reading his paper as though no wolf were
in that pleasant fold.
AS the Count approached this table, it
became sufficiently we'll known whom he
was about to honor with his insolence /;
and the circle again narrowed to see
the play. 1t is not bad sport, with some
of us, to see fellow-creature baited-es-
pecially when we are out of danger our
selves
The strawberry eaters costume was not
such as was ordinarily worn in France at
that time, and he had curious hat.
which-the weather being warm---he had
placed on the table by his side. He is
foreigner" whispered some in the dress
circle. " Perhaps he does not know
Monsieur le Comte"
Monsieur ie Comte seated himself at
the table opposite the unconscious Stran-
ger, and called loudly, "Garcon."
Garcon," he said, when the function
airy appeared, take away that nasty
thing" pointing to the hat aforesaid.
Now the strangers elbow, as he read
his journal, was on the brim Of the q nasty
thing" which was very good hat, but
of British form and make. The garcon
was embarrassed.
q n 49,, o,1