River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1875-10-01
THE BARTT0NE'S WIFE.
[F.om tue New Orleans Bulletin.


tF.on the New Orleans Bulletin.1
A small American flag moved lazily in
the afternoon wind.-.a fact, perhaps en-.
tirely unnoticed by most of the passers.
by ON Charities street..-and large square
transparency, on which was artistically
announced to the world, in large red and
blue letters, that within, after half-past
8 each evening, there was given bril-.
liant variety performance" did not move
at all, another fact which did not seem to
occasion any surprise on TIE part of the
denizens of the old neighborhoop
In fact it would have taken something
very startling to have occasioned any no.
tice whatever down there, for the old
Creoles had seen too much Of the adven.
turous and exciting in their time to be
moved by any but extraordinary occur.
rences. The saloon was like many Of its
kind, Numbers of tables, larger numbers
of chairs, an ostentatious looking bar,
and a fiiteen-ioot stage, Wherein the pro.
prietor stated, Mile. Blanc and Corrinne
and Mons. Jules RECALLED the esthetc
tastes ofsn appreciatiye public nightly.
you takes your glass off beer an you
70 everytinks," said he.
At one table, in quiet conversation with
painted little blond, sat man Of per-
haps forty years, with long black hair,
and short coat, pair Of eyes full of ex.
preston, and pair of pants almost full
of greese stains. To the American he
looked little like Henri Rochefort, but
this likeness did not seem to strike the
young lady just mentioned for she, in
| IA,
send for drinks. Two absinthes were
brought, and over these rotations they
resumed their small talk.
The sun kept on his westward way,
or rather the earth kept on its eastward
way, and the clanF < of the milkmen' S
bells on the stree gave notice that the
afternoon was waning and twilight not
far off. Once in while some homeward
bound dray would rattle past, jarring the
very glasses on the counter, and then,
after silence came, the ear could catch
the distant cry of Cr2Bte.d-td- gidce !
Creme.d-td-gi0ce n Then it began to
grow a little darker. You could just
make out the sign of "Jean Outlet, Cor.
donnier," opposite, and then, when the
letters faded out, the lamplighter came
anu HlE III iOilOWtu MIN.
The saloon was put in order, everything
rearranged, and the chandeliers lighted.
Two silent old gentlemen, with violins,
dropped in tall pianist after them
They took beer and then their seats. and
the pieces of music for the evening were
chosen. A preliminary squeak of the
viollns, a hurried staccato moving on the
piano, and the trio leaned back, waiting
for half past eight.
As for many centuries past, that hour
came around az last, and grand overture
commenced; we are sorry to say, to
empty chairs. This didn't last long, how
for men by twos and fours dropped in, and
before the pondurouS finale the place was
very crowded, and shouts for beer some
what married its intenoed effect.
There was a short pause, and then IN.
Jules, the great baritone of the
| salons Of Paris and Bordeaux" stepped
upon the stage and began to sing. 1t
was the drinking song from Hamlet Old
operagoers, toddling along with their
stout canes, stopped a moment to listen,
young girls just budding s0yeggio hesta.
ted and glanced over. The voice was
rich, round aud more than anything else,
sad, if that song can make voice sad.
! Certainly this NJ. Jules had done well
that night. He could certainly not be-
long to tine class of singers who frequent
variety halls; of this We are satisfied.
Alter a final brduUrd he bowed himself
of.
He soon made his appearance, however,
in front and took seat at table near
the stage. Introducing ourself we order
ed absinthe for him and started a con.
versation, interrupted now and again by
the rapping Of glasses on the tables, and
furious encores for Mile Corrienne, who
succeeded admirably in exhibiting con.
siderable portion Of her neither limbs
After a few minutes talk he seemed re-
markedly pleased with what he termed
our compqderie, and, leaning over, asked
for loan Of two dollars For what =
we asked. "Medicine, monsieur"
This twelve-stone baritone looked hear
ty, drank well, and, in fact. to all out
ward appearances, was well. What, then
was the reason Of has asking the loan o
money for medicine "Sick g. "NO
monsieur "Who is the medicine for
then ?"
"Ah my kind sir, you don know 1t
then? It's for Helena, my wife. | ge
only one dollar and half every nigh
here, and that for tonight has gone al
ready for foed for her and me. You d.
not believe it, heyl Well, after SIM
/, my 'Partant pour Ia Syrie' | will taxi
f you to my room you win give me money
then. know nobody here in Nouyell,
Orleans, nobody me. Helene and mi
come here to find opera, but we fine
! none.'
There was a little skirmish between
+, the violins, and the piano delivered
D roll Of musket shots, firing by file, anC
4 at this Jules ran behind the curtain. |
1 was drawn up, ald my new acquaintanc
4 stepped out. There was not French
r man in the house who did not regre
l when Jules had closed and finally left 70
Syria. His notes were full Of pathos
n and perhaps that other Syria he wa
a bound for when the curtain fell, adde'
e something to his expression.
J. "Come," said he, I'm going
j Joining him, we left the saloon, and n
0 we turned the corner Of Toulouse, beer
D H. 81,