Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1878-05-11


business connections everywhere, and nor
caring whether he compromised himself. since
our French laws had no hold on him, John
BrOkensbire found it easy enough to smuggle
letters in and out of the penal colony. He
fancied at first it would be easy to obtain the
pardon too by pulling the proper wires: but in
rusty or he had not got hold OF the right ones.
Our government does not so readily lose m IN
at whose opinions it has taken fright. The
abuse the political ferocity of Frenchmen with
ali the vigOr of that liberalism which groWS on
the banks of the Thames; but he neither de-
splsed nor suffered us to do 81: and we les
that wherever he went and VIII iteyet he diI,
he bore Jules Leblanc in mind. IL he was
buYins wine ot a Bordeaux merchant lie would
mention the exile's case between two tastes of
samples lie begged sympathy for him Of lnt1u-
entail silk merchants, importers Of British
cutlery, coffee brokers and indigo statesmen.
He had al the particulars of the poor carica
turl>tS offence and its mitigating circum-
stances by heart, and spoke of them to journ-
alists and politicians whom he met in his trav.
els, thereby widening every day the circle of
those who knew something about poor Jules
That is how John Brokenshire came to be
our friend. That is why every Christmay Day,
since tt at year when NOemie had been widowed
by decree of a court martial, he was the chic
guest at banquet which we prepared of such
deieaeies as IS he loved and and seasoned with
expecting him with our goose, our mistletoe.
our pudding. and our homely wishes, on the
occasion of which am now writing which
was last Christmas Day.
lies rOici! Here they Gomez exclaimed
little Victor, clapping his hands as the first
ascending steps OF our guests were heard on
out in Scottish tartan dress, with a Royal
stuart sash, chung to her mothers gown, and
half MD herself behind it, with one finger in
sly puSS las if ever little French girls had really
wanted for assurance.
Ii was six O'Clock. The room was lit. the
her visitors by the cracking fire of pear-wood
logs. How pretty she 10 ,ked! How swee,ty
sad and gentle in her black silk dress, and the
small lace cap that covered her glossy chestnut
grief had not aged her-it had only thrown
wistful look into her blue eyes, and subdued
her manner so to Gaetnhess Ike thht OF
who could not remember their father, she had
ben obliged to maintain an outward serenity
m re heIoical than sorrow; and had forced
herself always to smile in their presence, that
their young hearts might not be nodded to
melancholy which would change to moroseness
when they grew older: Only those who knew
he'd with hope long deferred How she could
wolk so exactly as she did at her correction of
proofs-hever missing stray comma, nor an
Iil-placed clrcumfleX, aud amending even
ammatical errors in the neatest of hands
W Us to M mystery. Grattelot the foreman
OF tie printer works, and Barbelard, the sub
editor of one of the two Republican Journals
on viii n No6mie was employed, we're as much
puzzled as l; but they had ended by conclud-
ing thai Madame Leblanc was of a phiOSopnic
turn Il master-woman, who thought that cry
ing spoiled the eyes. They and their wives
were TO be our guests on this evening. By the
hearty way in which they entered, smiling our
goose and glancing at our bottles, it was pvi
dent that they did not consider they were in
truding into an abode of sorrow.
, GTattelot, Barbelard, their spOuSeS, and John
BrOkenShire formed the total of our expected
cOmpany-that is, including Noemie, the child
dren, and self, nine of us, the number of the
MUSES., were to sit down to table. Neither
GrattelOt, Barbelard, nor their wives, re-
minded me of the Muses. though. The printers
foreman was a little swarthy fellow who had a
Rabelalslan leer, and spoke with the richest
brogue of Marseilles. He used rs for j s. and
pronounced as OF. Out of his experience in
bic of education and standing grievance
against all literary men, whom he accused OF
never measuring their productions TO the re-
qulrements OF newspaper size. He cared moth
he would say; and his universal test of m irit
was: will this article run to more Or less
than column and a quarter?'' II it ran to
more the writer was stamped in his mind as a
man OF lncOntinent yerbiage; il to less he was
one who lacked elasticity of expression. G at
telott had respect for poets because their lines
as padding: and of course he gave the palm of
poetry to bardS who Old not write IN Alex I'll
drineS. He has often told me that he preferred
an ode of mine to the finest idy by NJ. Francois
Coppee; and felt much flattered by the com
plment till discovered it was owing solely t.
my fOndneSS for SiX-fOOt verstica ion, MT
the subJect-matter of my Odes, which Ora e
Barbelard, the sub-editor, was another lite
rary curiosity, for he could only read with Jif
fculy, and spelled no word in our langIdg.
correctly save his own name. He ha brel
appointed sub-edftOr by reason of his gigan i;
stature and his powers wi h all dueling waap
Gus. An old Sergeant of the Cent Gardes, VIII
had been decorated for carrying off two Aus
in the Italian war, he stood six French feet In
his socks. and had pair of brstling red mus
taches, which, when he was angry, looked AS
sumed the Responsibility Of ali ie unas gn I'd
articles in the Republican journal which en-
ployed him; and If any stranger came to ask
for explanations about personalities, this i'm
posing sub-editor was there to answer him in
the cOrrecteSt language of chivalry. He ten
dered no apologies or explanations, but would
forthwith be ready to accept challenge to
tolls, according as might be most convenient.
This often led to little dialogues, somewhat in
tie following fashion,;
STRANGER (bouncir.g in furious'y, ,oith the
0Tendt1ag journal in his hdnd)- Wa ut to
see the man who wrote this article.
BARBELARD (rising a1ith dignity from tn: :
SSuo,eauorta' sea-, ohh ptpe ~ rs ns2uth)-,
you want to ObjectiOniZe, name your friends
and wei have it out at day break
STRANGER (grOlCi,ag ciUH. )-Ah no
have merely come to renew my subscription
to the paper. What warm day IL is
GOO-O-d morning (and
eri)
Sometimes, however, duel would arise, and
then Barbelard always showed himself mag
unanimous in inflicting only flesh wOunis-juSt
mere flea bites, as he called them, ripping up
the arm for twelve inches or SO, or carrying OF
an insignificant little piece from the aggreS-
sor's calf. Barbelard had fought round dozen
of duels but he owed another duty to his
newspaper besides fighting, for he appeared
in the correctional courts to answer all cha geS
of attacking the Government. and underwent
the sentences of imprisonment to which mem
berS of the staff were condemned. He had
come to look upon the Jail of Ste. Pelagie
much as second home, and was never sorry
to go there for few months, for he got double
pay, Unlimited allowance of tobacco, and ex-
cellent meals sent In daily from the restauran
at the expense OF his employers SO long as his
Incarceration lasted. Madame Barb9lard a
little black haired woman with deSpOSic eye
used afectiOnately to remark that She was al
ways more pleased to see her husband in pri,-
on than out OF 1t, for she knew then that he was
not In misunderstanding his life in mortal Com
bat, or drinking more alb Sinthe than Was good
for him at the cafe. Prison life Was such a
saving, too, for she could 60 every day to sit
with Barbelard from ten to six, take her meals
with him, and economic thereby the cost of
marketing and kitchen fuel. She had an opin-
ion Of Liberal Governments, ascrfbiug their
unwillingnesS In sending journalists to prison
to sordid stinginess with the public purse.