Weekly Trinity journal., 1873-11-01
THE LOTTERY TICKET.

lage of Serene, Belgium, was in commo-
ton by the recent arrival of post-chaise
which hailed from Bouillon.
The unkeeper, Master Andrew, was
kept busy running about, giving orders
first to the servants, then to the postill-
ions, while the carriage stood in front Of
the principal entrance, much to the ad-
miration of the surrounding children
Amongst the group there appeared a
tall man, whose quick, flashing eyes,
dark skin, and foreign accent contrasted
strangely with the peculiar dialect of the
Wallons.
Master Gaspar was born in the south
ern part of France, and chance alone
brought him to Serene, where he open
ed barber shop, and took to shaving
the country people in those parts.
Have you seen the new arrival, Mas
ter Gaspar?" inquired an old haberdasher
of him.
"Of course, Mother Gertrude" an
swered the wigmaker, land he is so fat
that he appears to have more stomach
than brains"
"Shut up, Gaspar (; he is a baron,"
suddenly interrupted ringing voice.
"a baron?" he repeated, "who told
you so, Florette?"
The tall servant who accompanied
him." answered the young girl. He
announces that the baron will not dine in
the public room, but his meals must be
served in the large apartment leading
on the balcony"
The curious ones lifted their heads, for
the room which Florette mentioned was
exactly above them. The window was
open but the lowered curtains prevent
ed them from seeing the interior.
So you laid the cloth there ?" inquir-
ed the haberdasher, pointing to the bal
cony.
mot l." said the young girl :" do you
believe the baron would have either our
china or our crystal ? He always carries
silver service with him, and L saw his
servant taking it from a large ebony box.
Thereon there rose from the crowd
cry of surprise and admiration. The
Frenchman alone shrugged his shoulders.
Which means that this baron cannot
eat nor drink like other decent people,"
he ironically remarked, "but he must
have separate room and separate uten-
sils."
Come, Gaspar, you are not beginning
to talk against your neighbors again."
Interrupted Florette, smiling. "Do you
know why he is crossing the Ardcnnes ?"
"No."
" His servant told me-" continued the
young girl, lowering her voice, He's GO
ing to marry the richest heiress in the
country-a widow -
" Docs he know her ?" inquired Gaspar.
" | don't know. Why ?"
" Because those kind of people marry
the same way as they do their business,
by correspondence. My blood boils when
l see such men as this baron, for whom
fortune is but an instrument to show off
their tyranny, avarice and vanity, and |
can not but think if were in their place
how much more honor | would do
to Providence's choice. Why, were to
become rich this moment, would no
more change-than-th village church.
bell. l would remain as just, as aflabe,
as disinterested as before"
On the conclusion of these words, the
traveller who was the object of this con-
versation appeared at the door. He was
man about forty years of age, slightly
bald, and his features denoted German
blood. Intelligence beamed on his coun-
tenance, and ignorance alone dictated the
judgment the Frenchman had pronounc-
ed on him.
The baron bowed to the group, which
had formed around the door, and smil-
ingly said
" A pretty spot, and a lovely day."
Those whom he addressed were salts
fed with bowling in return without reply
ing. The German did not appear discon-
certed at their silence.
Il hope" he continued, "that the
country is prosperous and that happiness
reigns here"
" We do not complain, sir" answered
Gaspar, "not l, for one. l cut hair and
shave boards; dress wigs, and for the
balance l trust to a lucky chance"
I" 1t will come," said the baron, "rcst
assured. Your country still permits lot
teries, and you may one day hope to draw
a lucky number"
"Oh talking of mum bers," exclaimed
Florette, "suppose we should win the
CASTLE"
" Castle !" echoed the baron, attent-
lively.
" With its grounds and forests" con-
cluded Gaspar. "Whist they were SELL
ing tickets about here, Florette forced me
to take one."
Is it, by chance, the castle of Rosen-
burg ?"
81 don't know l didn't examine the
name or the numper, but have it here"
The barber took ticket from an old
pocket book.
THAT'S it," said he, after having
glanced his eye over il +: "Castle of Ro-
senburg, situated two miles from Saint
Croix, in the Ardennes. The lottery was
to be drawn on the Goth of July"
And SO it was" quietly remarked the
baron.
"And you know which number won ?"
" Yes it is number 66."
No. 60 ~ stammerod the barber