The Grange advance. [volume] (Red Wing, Minn.) 1873-1877, 1877-04-11

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''Let Mrs. Postlethwaite be satisfied
with her own hair, urged Mr.. Pom.
sonby, nibbling at an olive.
"Women are never satisfied said
the Squire, gloomily. - r~' M.
''Then let her learn the lesson of
contentment.
"Women never learn,'' said the
Squire. - ii
But he recalled his friends good adj
vice the next day, when no walked
into NJ. Emile Dupignac's ''Centennial
Hair Emporium"
NJ. Dupignac rubbed his hands rs he
hurried behind the plate.glass counter
and begged Dlandly to know Gin what
he could have the happiness to serve
monsieur" @
81 want Il switch,'' said Squire Pos
lethwaite, a little uneasy under the
bright.eyed regards of NJ. Dupignac's
ten 'sales.ladies," who were dressed
rather more splendidly than his Polly,
even in her church-going attire, and
wore g!ittering jewelry, which our
honest Squire believed to be real and
of great price-'sand if must be Of
this COLOR holding up the sample,
land one yard long
NJ. Dupignac critically surveyed the
lock, with his head first on one side
and then on the other.
ut is Of a color truly ravishing,'
said he. ''but nevertheless | ilatter
myself that can match it..
And he briskly opened Il drawer full
Of long switches, neatly packed in mar
row pasteboard boxes, and OdOrOus of
camphor, and whisked out a mass of
pale ripping gold. which he held up
to the sunlight with Polly's lock laid
against it.
:'Nature itself!' cried NJ. Dupignac,
theatrically.
''No, you DON'T said the Squire, set
ting his teeth together like a steel
trap.
s:Comment?" demanded NJ. Dupig-
nae.
''Put up that thing said Squire
Postlethwalte, ''and shut the drawer
ssMonsieur would wish it a shade
lighter?'' queried the Frenchman: Cor
perhaps darker? Vraiment. it is mere
matter Of taste.''
tsMonsieur don't want any Of that
sheared-off trash,'' said the Squire.
laconically.
NJ. Dupignac drew himself up with
Napoleanic dignity. ''Monsieur will
perhaps allow Inc to assure him. said
he, s'that there is no better stock than
mine upon this continent
t:I'm not quite so green as to swal-
low every thing 1 hear, if I do come
from the country said the Squire,
composedly. ''Shut up that drawer. I
say. None of your secondhand scar
let fever and smallpox for me. None
of your dead peoples clippings out of
the hospitals
"But, monsieur gesticulated the
Frenchman.
81 tell you,'' roared Squire Postleth,
waite waxing noisy as he became more
in earnest, 81 WON'T buy a single soil.
tary spear Of hair, unless know where
it comes from. I'll see it cut myself,
or I'll let it severely alone.''
NJ. Dupignac's momentary express
sion of dismay and perpleXity gave way
to an instantaneous illumination of the
facial muscles.
"By all means, by all means, if mon
sieur wishes it, cried he, fitting the
five fingers of one hand against the five
fingers of the other. Monsieur shall be
satisfied. courtpublicity. I-Laure!'
to one of the extrayagantly dressed
shop girls "where, then, is that poor
girl that was here this morning, wish.
ing to sell her hair?- the girl with les
fcheveux 'or, the head of real gold
that takes it's FURNISH in the sunshine?
Does she still wait, Laure p
+ Mademoiselle Laure was not quite
certain as to that, but she had the
yonng persons address. The young
person should be Immediately sent
for.
:sLet her be summoned at once, -
said NJ. Dupignac, with a wave of the
hand, as if he was a monarch, issuing
royal mandate. 'tAnd," with Sec
ondary sweep of the arm toward vel
vet upholstered chair-''if monsieur
will honor us by waiting but a few Sec
Onds his undeserved doubts shall all be
set at rest
ssSeeing is believing said Squire
Postlethwaite, cavalierly. And he sat
down, softly whistling "Bonnie Dun
dee," and staring steadfastly out of the
window.
In about fifteen minutes there was a
little hustle OF arrival in the next
room. NJ. Dupignac lifted a Noting
ham lace curtain which shielded the
glazed upper half of the door of CON-
munication, and placing his finger on
his lip with truly French gesture,
pointed to a lovely blue-eyed young
girl, dressed in faded and shabby gar
ments, but the magnificent pale vel
low hair floating like glory down
over her shoulders.
"By Jove calculated the Squire,