Louisiana capitolian. (Baton Rouge, La.) 1879-1881, 1880-12-11
sAINT.GABELLE INN.

You would have been very fortunate,
my children, ifyou had known my Uncle
Bayle, because he alone knew more
stories than you have ever read. Ny
uncle did not live in our little city OF
MirepeiS; he did not lodge IN our large
house with red window shutters, which
was the family residence, He was an
advocate, and lived at Folk, and almost
every Saturday we would see him coming
on his horse, aud our joyous cries hailed
him at distance. The servant my old
Jeanette, came Immediately to salute
our Uncle Bayle, who carefully informed
himself as to the supper. Then, after
having added or changed something in
the bill of fare, he seated himself in u
large chair of carved wood, which he
dragged MP to the fire, and without de-
lay we al began to cry, "a story, u sto-
ry" On this evening the cry was less
hoisterous, because we hid formed o lit
tic conspiracy, andno one dared to speak
first. Finally, my pretty cousin Doro-
thee, the most laxative little girl of the
house, and now the grave Superior of u
convent of the Sisters Of Charity, ven
tnred to cry: "a ghost story" and we
replied altogether: "Yes, ghost story~
My uncle frowned and looked towards
Jeanette, who was very much confused,
and wished to appear absorbed in pep
perng her chicken pot-pie, and she real
~ peppercd II so we'll that we were not
able to eat it. 1t was she, in fact, who
had read us repeatedly the story'of the
Spectre Leg and the Open Eye, and who
had urged us to make this demand
"There are only fools or rogues who
believe, or to pretend to believe, in
ghosts" said my uncle in n severe tone.
We all waited in silence, so much au.
thority was there in his words, but
moment ofrehecti0n seemed to calm him.
We saw him smile, rs If to himself, and
he added, in tone full of sweetness
"Yon want ghost story, my children
All right; will relate one to you which
happened to me, so that it cannot be
doubted
We gathered around him closer than
usual; the lamp hung by chain attach
ed to the mantel piece and there our un-
Gle told his story:
One autumn day, it must have been
forty years ago, because | was scarcely
twenty years old at the time, ] was re-
urning from Toulouse. | had made
good journey, because | had already
passed Auterive, where some friends had
urged me to pass the night but ] was
very anxious to reach Swerlun, which,
you know, is nine miles further, and |
resumed my journey.
| had arrived almost in front of the
Bolbonne monastery, beyond the bcauti-
tul woods of Lecourien, where Father
Fariul (whose Latin works you will
have to translate some day. composed
his "Preadlum Rusticum" when % sud
den and frightful storm, like those that
come down from our mountains, unex-
pecedly broke forth. In less than no
time the night became black and trav-
cling impossible. would certainly
have asked shelter at the monastery,
but the moment took that resolution
my horse, frightened ut the flashes of
lightning and noise of thunder darted
into a little by-path and carried me
with him in spite of all my efforts to the
contrary. Notwithstanding his rapidity
/ soon recognized that he had taken the
road to st. Gabelle, and that he was
leading me there all right. Some day
this summer we will visit st. Gabelle,
where the church is built on the top of
the hill, commanding view Of the en-
tire city, the foot of which is higher
than the roofs of the highest houses. l
will take You to see the choir balcony
built entirely of oak, with beautiful
carving, and we will ask NJ. Langue to