Public ledger. [volume] (Memphis, Tenn.) 1865-1893, 1875-09-30
THE MYSTERY OF THE POOR
BARlTONE'S WIFE.

.n0 olVeI uoVn "lnu-a Iacti perhaps, en-
tirely unnotieed by most of the passers.
by on Chartres street-and large.
square transparency, on which it was ar
tlsilcally announced to the world, in
large red and blue letters, that within,
after half-past eight each evening, there
was given brilliant variety perform
ance, did not move at all-auother fact
which did not seem to occasion any sur
prise on the part of the denizens of the
old neighborhood.
10 fact it would have taken something
very startling to have occasioned any
notice 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, large
numbers Of chairs, an ostentatious look
ing bar and fifteen foot stage, whereon,
the proprietor stated, Mile Blance and
Corrinne and Mons Jules RECALLED the
esthetic tastes of an appreciative public
nightly. You takes your glace off beer
an you zs everytinks, said he.
AT one table, in quiet conversation
with a painted little blonde, sat man
of perhaps forty years, with long black
hair, and a short coat, pair of eyes
full of expression, and pair of pants
almost full Of grease stains. To an
American, he looked little like Henri
Rochefort, but this likeness did not seem
to strike the young lady just mentioned
for she, in most unrepublican way, or
dered him to send for drinks. Two abb
sinthes were brought, and over these DO
tatiohs they resumed their small talk.
The sun kept on his westward way, or
rather the earth kept on its eastward way,
and the changing OF the milkmen's bells
on the streets gave notice that the after
noon 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 a silence came, the ear could catch
the distant cry of Creme a-la.glace |
creme-a-la glacel" Then it began to
grow a little darker. You could Just
make out the sign of jean Guiliett,
Condonnier, opposite, and then when the
letters faded out the lamp lighter came
and night followed him.
The saloon was put in order, every
thing rearranged, and the chandeliers
lighted. Two silent old gentlemen, with
violins, dropped in, and a tall pianist
after them. They took beer and then
their seats, and the pieces Of music for
the evening we're chosen. A preliminary
squeak OF the violins, hurried staccato
movement on the piano, and the trio
leaned back, waiting for halfpast eight
AS for many centuries past, that hour
came around at last, and a grand over
ture commenced, we are sorry to say, TO
empty chairs. This didn't last long,
however, for men by twos and fours
dropped in, and before the ponderous
finale the place was very crowded, and
shouts for beer somewhat msrred its In
tended effect.
There was short pause, and then
Mons. Jules ---, the greatest bari
tone of the salons of Paris and Bor-
deau, stepped upon the stage and began
to sing. 1t was the drinking song from
Hamlet. Old opera-goers, toddling along
with their stout canes, stopped moment
to listen, young girls just budding in sol.
feggio hesitated and glanced over. The
voice was rich, round and more than
anything else, sad, if that song can make
a voice sad. Certainly this Mons. Jules
had dcue we'll that night. He could
certainly not belong to the class of sing.
ers who frequent variety halls; of this
we are satisfied. After a final bravura
he Bowed himself off.
He soon made his appearance, how.
ever, in front and took seat at a table
near the stage. Introducing onrself, we
ordered absinthe for him and started a
conversation interrupted now and again
by the rapping of glasses on the tables
and furious encares for Mile Corrinne,
who succeeded admirably in exhibiting
considerable portion of her neither
limbs; After few minutes talk he
seemed remarkably pleased with what he
termed our compaderie, and, leaning
over, asked for loan Of two dollars,
For what2' we asked. Medicine,
monsieur
This twelve stone baritone looked
hearty, drank WELL and, in fact, to all
outward appearances, was we'll. What
then, was the reason of his asking for
the loan Of money for medicine
SickY' No monsieur. Who il
the medicine for, them
"Ahl my kind sir, you don't know il
then2 Its for Helene, my wife. | gel
only one dollar and half every nigh
here, and that for tonight has gone
already for food for her and me. Yol
not believe it, hey2 Well, after | sins
my Psrtant pour la Syrie, | will TAKE
you to my room; you will give MI
money then / know nobody here il
Nouvelle Orleans, nobody me. Helen,
and me come here to 6nd OPERA but W,
| Nud mana "