Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1873-12-06

Well, serve the Bric cheese. IL il our flult
that we have passed di-dainfully by the chop
=. honses where we might have got stew, aud
h We me into this, which mi ght remind one OF
Z Mo- er Hubbard'S cupboard"
My friend went out, and returning a few
! minutes later. found me feastiDg on bread aud
stop said he; 1--WE are going to have an
excellent dinner, becausc-I have a memory
you KNOW haze met a butcher AMI ordered
two pounds of pork outlets, which are made in
Iaris and nowhere else. The butchers alone
have the secret OF cooking them, and the pro-
/ fessional cooks have tried in vain to obtain 10
| from them. As for myself the best dinner I
| ever made was on six sous worth of fried p,ta-
| toes, and that dinner has had over my whole
| NE the most happy influence"
The best dinner which friend of mine
| named- Stephens, ever made" replied
| was one at which he ate nothing at all; but the
| Consequences were not so fortunate as thos, of
your dinner. Tell me about the fried DO alto -"
| ~. tell me first about stephen g diu-
ner, when he dined on nothing"
| After you
Paul, my friend, drew from his pocket a C Din.
| "Odd or event"
| " Even"
lyon have lost. Tell me the story of Ste
| rhen's dinner on nothing"
While eat ng our dinner OF outlets, told my
" stephen had bee n turned away by his en-
ployer. NJ. Mnli6r, for having fallen in love
With his daughter Madeleine, and sought a po-
slilon which would have enabled him 10 ret Iru
and offer her his hand His education, called a
liberal education, gave HIM command only D
two dead languages, and very few chances were
open TO him with such a limited knowledge. He
tiled TO sur port imsef until \ better opportu
NIFTY should present itself by selling little of
his supeIiiuous Latin and Greek, and gave les
sons in these languages while he hard at
work ON an epic poem and "a tragedy. One cir
cumStancc gave him hope. From time to time
he saw Madeleine, more seldom he exchanged
letters with her, hut the means of obtsining
these moments of happiness had to be constantly
changed. Just at this time old Muller bought
some stock in a theater in the suburbs of Paris,
the most OhylOu- evidence q il h
the use of "A box, once a week, on Friday. Ste
phen also betOOk himself to the theater and Sc
cured a place directly opposite Madeleine.
where he could see her without being noticed
by NJ Muller, which was easy on account OF the
nesr-sightedness of the latter and his scrupu-
lOus attention to the play. stephen here intoxi-
Gated himself all the evening with the sight of
his adored and at the end of the performance
enSconced in a dark corner, he almost always
succeeded in slipping up to her and receiving
letter. But in giving lessons Stephen gained
but little money, and the theater was an ex-
pense. Other days he could dine at a school
where he had pupils, but the theater was at
distance, and on Fridays he had to dine at his
own expense. There was something queer
about these dinners, especially toward the close
OF the month. when he had failed to renew his
pair OF gloves, so carefully folded when he came
out OF the theater, so neatly cleansed vita
chemicals, and when he had treated with ink
the red edges of his hat and the threadbare
seams of his coat.
- Just before the famous dinner took place,
he had found a little eating house. where for a
prun5s, and he reckOned that in this way he
might come to the end of the month, in which
there were yet two Fridays, without starving.
The first of these two Fridays Stephen dined
happily on his bread and prunes, and having
put on his gloves and bought his ticket. went
gaHy TO the theater. Old Muller's box was
empty. His heart failed him. However, he
hoped that they were only late, and cherished
the hope from act to act and from scene to
scene They did not come. He went home
downcast, discouraged, dsgusted with life. The
next week was the longest in his life but at last
Friday came. There remained to him Just
enough money tor his theater ticket and his
frugal dinner. He walked along with his hands
in his trousers pockets, fearing TO lose his trea-
sure Just "a he was going into the eating
house he had the curiosity TO see what play
TO be represented. Although Madeleine nor
himself had any eyes for the play they were to-
gether At the theater. Yet sometimes he found
in the plays some ailusion to their own situation
and hopeless love So one evening when the
two lovers in the drama were called stephen
and Madeleine. the two lovers In the audience
were ahdrt s-ing to each other all the tender
speeches which the actors exchanged on the
stage.
- That evening stephen happened to look at
the posters The letters were larger than usual.
and as he found on closer examin alton that
there was TO he an extraordinary representa-
ton he could not doubt that Madeleine would
he there. But all at once he shivered to find
That the price of admission hal been raised.
He counted up his money. How iuckyl l
have money enough and he put the money
hack. - How lucky,i he repeated, walking
back and forth before the door, that I read the
bill before entering this garden OF Hesperides,
guarded at this moment by those two redoubta-
BILE Dragons. No Money and no Credit. If
bad dIned could not have entered that temple
whore can contemplate my divinity longer
than usual on account of the extraordinary
reprcse ntatiOn.r How lucky"
" He went to the theater and found Made
l,ine there; He felt, to be sure, gnawing at
the stomach, but itwa pleasure 10 suffer for
her. Do you understand that?'
" No, said Paul.
70 mo
" No, it would be useless. Going out of the
theater he exchanged letter with her. His
empty stomach kept him awake all night, but
what happiness not to sleep? He read, kissed,
and read again that letter; noted each phrase,
husked and ground and sifted each word, in
terpreted each comma he read it silently, he
read IL aloud so that it might enter his heart by
both eyes and ears. So that dinner which he
lid not eat was the happiest and best in all his
! life,
There was a short pause; then Paul began in
his turn:
Here beginneth the story of the dinner on
sly sous worth potatoes, To which | owe all the
happiness ofmy life.
II was a student 1 lived with two other
students in medicine, one of whom was named
| Paul and the other Charles. All three of us
| had occasion TO submit to dire privations. One
winter evening returned to our common lOd-
giugs. our funds were at their lowest. Charles
bad shared with Paul the little dinner that
barely suficed for one. They had finished
when came. For my part had consolidated
all NY capital, and had purchased with it six
.
room.
1--WE have dined ;" said Paul and Charles
ooh" said l, Il bring my dinner with me-
al believe you; but am Dire adfully thirsty"
".TheIe's no water i'll the pitcher, 60 to the
pump"
Il placed my fried potatoes on the corner of
| the table and started for the water, but at the
door turned 20 see thar the potatoes we're van
/ ishing. put down the pitcher and started to
their rescue. NV companions were no longer
men, they were tigers eager for the fried pota-
toes. They combined against me. But seized
the dish and ran out of the house. 1 crossed
the street; they followed me and gained upon
me. | saw an alley and ran for it. They came
I after me ran up the stairs of house, en-
/ tered, climbed the stairs. i heard them coming
! behind me. Still mounted and they followed.
| was in the upper ball OF the house. I tried TO
| avail myself OF my temnOry triumph by eating
! some of my fried potatoes, but 1 was too ex-
/ LaUsted and heated and out of breath to eat.
1 Meantime heard them on the door below.
| " My head was turned. / saw a key in q
! door. opened the door, entered, drew out the
/ key, closed the door behind me and locked it,
| was in room where young girl sat sewing.
I he Eeh M RIGHT 1 mt hraa