New Orleans Republican. [volume] (New Orleans, La) 1867-1878, 1876-03-05

about. with his saberlesS Delt peeplng ON
beneath. All. his boyishness in his sea-blus
ewes. leaning lightly against the door-pos
n the Cafe des Exiles as q child leanf
against his mother, running his finger
over q basketful of fragrant lines, and
watching his chance to strike some sol
emn Creole under the fifth rib with
good old Irish joke.
Old D'Hemecourt drew him close to hi
bosom. The Spanish Creoles were, 81
the old man termed it, both cold and NOT,
but never warm. Major Shaughnessy
was warm, and it was no uncommon
thing to find those two apart from thu
others, talking in an undertone, and play
ing at contid0ntes like two school girls
The kind old man was at this time drift
ING close up to his sixtieth year. There
was much he could tell OF San Domingo
whittier he had been carried from Marti
nique in his childhood, whence he hai
become q refugee to Cuba, and thence K
New Orleans in the flight of 1909.
1t fell one day to Manuel Mazaro's To-
to discover that to Galahad Shaughnessy
only, of all the children of tn.
Cafe des Exiles, the good hos
spoke long and confdentislly con
corning his daughter. The words, hal
heard and magnifed like objects seen in 6
fog, meaning Manuel NIazaro knew MOI
what, but made portentous by his sus
picious nature, were but the old mans
recital of the grinding he had got between
the millstones of his poverty and hi
pride, in trying SO long to sustain, fol
little Pauline's sake, that attitude before
az vr,hinh
face viewing world. While he was telling
this, Manuel Mazaro drew near; the old
man paused in an embarrassed way: the
major, sitting sideways in his chair, lifted
his check from its resting place on his
elbow, and Mazaro, after standing ar
awkward moment, turned away with such
an inward feeling as one may guess would
arise in a heart full of Cuban blood, not
unmixed with Indian.
As he moved of, NJ. D'Hemecourt re-
sumed: that in q last extremity he had
opened, partly from dire want, partly fol-
very love to homeless souls, the Cate des
Exiles. He had hoped that, as strong
drink and high words were to be alike un-
known to it, it might not prejudice sensi-
BILE people, but it had. He had no doubt
they said among themselves, s'she is an
excellent and beautiful girl and deserving
all respect" but their respects they never
came to pay.
"a cafe is cafe, said the old gentle
man. at is nod possib' to ezcape him,
aldough de Cafe des Exiles is differen'
from de req"
s'It's different from the Cafe DIES Refu-
gies, I" suggested the Irishman.
"Differen' as possib'," replied NJ.
D'Hemecourt. He looked about upon the
walls. The shelves were luscious with
ranks of cooling syrups which he alone
knew how to make The expression of
his face changed from sadness to gentle
pride, which spoke without words, say
let our story pause moment to
hear it say:
eff any poor exile, from any island
where guavas or mangoes or plantains
grow, wants q draft which will make
him see his home among the cocoa-palms,
behold the Cafe des Exiles ready to take
he poor child up and give him the
breast And if gold or silver he has
hem not, why Heaven and Santa Maria,
md Saint Christopher bless him. It
makes no difference. Here is rocking
hair, here q cigarette, and here light
rom the hosts own finder. He will pay
vhen he can"
As this easily pardoned pride said, so it
ften occurred; and if the newly come
xile said his father was a Spaniard-
Come" old Nj. D'Hemecourt would cry;
another glass; it is an innocent drink;
ny mother was Castilian." But, if the
,xile said his mother was French
woman, the glasses would be forthcoming
IL the same, for ''my father" the old
nan would say, ''was Frenchman of
with blood as pure as that
vine and heart as sweet as this honey;
ome, glass of orgeat, and he would
BRING it himself in quart tumbler.
Now, there are jealousies and jealousies.
There are people who rise up quickly and
nil, and there are others who turn their
,ot thoughts over silently in their minds
IS brooding bird turns her eggs in the
lest. Thus did Manuel Mazaro, and took
t i'll that Galahad should see vision in
he temple while he and all the brethren
arried without. Pauline had been to the
Jafe des Exiles in some degree what the
mage of the Virgin was to their churches
It home; and for her father to whisper
Ter name to one and not to another was,
t seemed to Mazaro, as if the old
nan, were he a sacristan, should say
10 some single worshiper, ''Here, you
nay have this madonna; I make it
present to you" Or. if such was not the
handsome young Cuban's feeling, such, at
east, was the disguise his jealousy put on.
# Pauline was to be handed down from
,,Snhn rrhvv fhav, forovvo11 g. Il
Sxiles. She was its preserving influence,
The made the place holy; she was the
burning candles on the altar. Surely the
eader will pardon the pen that fingers in
he mention of her.
And yet know not how to describe the
orbearing, unspoken tenderness with
which all these exiles regarded the maiden.
n the balmy afternoons, as have said,
hey gathered about their mothers knee,
hat is to say, upon the banquette outside
he door. There, lolling back in their
ocking-chairs, they would pass the even
ng hours with oft-repeated tales of home;
nd the moon would come out and glide
mong the clouds like silver barge among
stands wrapped in mist, and they loved
he silently gliding orb with sort of wor-
hip, because from ner soaring height she
ooked down at the same moment upon
hem and upon their homes in the far An
lies. It was somewhat thus that they
BOXED upon Pauline as she seemed to
hem held up half way to heaven, they
new not how. All! those who have been
ilgrims; who have wandered out beyond
arbor and light; whom fate hath led in
onely paths strewn with thorns and
riers not of their own sowing; who,
lomeless in a land of homes, see
windows cleaning and doors ajar,.
'ut not for then-it is they who we'll
Understand what the worship is that cries
D any daughter Of our dear mother Eve
those footsteps chance may draw across