The Corvallis gazette. [volume] (Corvallis, Or.) 1862-1899, 1880-12-10

Aries, there was not granery or wine
vault which did not include among their
| bottles OF cid wine, and bottles of olives
a la DiciOlfne, a small brown bottle
sealed with the arms of Provence, and
with the picture of monk in ecstacies
| on the silver ticket. Thanks to the sale
of the elixir, the monastery of the Pre-
montres became rapidly very rich; the
monks were able to have the Pacome
tower raised; the Prior bought new
mitre; the church was ornamented with
pretty carved windows; and in the finely
| laced sculptured steeple peal of bells,
both small and large, rang out the glad
sound on Easter morning.
| As to Brother Gaucher-he who till
now had been the butt of the monastery
on account of his ungainly ways-the
| jokes had entirely ceased; he was now
known as the Reverend Father Gaucher,
a man of much learning and great
mind, who lived quite apart, and was no
more to occupy himself with the various
occupations of his domestic calling. He
lived shut up in his distillery, while
thirty monks were collecting herbs for
him. This distillery, which was so pri-
vate that not even the Prior was admit
ted into it, was an old abandoned, quite
at the extremity of the canour's room
garden.
The monks in their simplicity had
worked themselves up to consider it
quite mysterious and formidable place,
and if by accident my adventurous and
curious young monk reached as fIr as
the rosace of the door, he would come
down in great haste, quite frightened at
the sight of Father Gaucher with his
alchemist's beard, STOPPING over his
ovens. Inhaling the grateful steam, and
slowly stirring it with his pipe, he
seemed to recognize the malicious eye of
/ Aunt Begon in the small glisten-
ing spangles that hoated over the
emerald mixture; they seemed as
d if laughing at him, and to say:
"Comel take another dropi" Drop added
to drop ct last filled the goblet to over
flowing. The exhausted monk fell down
in large arm chair, his body quite pow
erless, his eyelids half closed. He re-
membered his sins, by fits and starts re-
peating in low tone in delightful,
penitent way: "Ah! am damning my
self! am damning myselfF But what
was worst of all was that to be found
written at the bottom of this diabolical
elixir by some foul means all the bad
songs that Aunt Begon used to sing:
"Three little old women who liked a
FEAST" or Bsrgerette (maitre Andres
friend), "Does she ever go into the
woods alone?' And always the famous
one relating to the White Fathers, PA
tatin, Patatin." Only imagine what a
noise and confusion all this must
have created. His neighbors, in the near
est cells, looked at him with sly
air. "Ah! ahi Father Gaucher, you had
some bees in your bonnet last night as
you undressed.' Then he would begin
to despair, and to cry, and to fast, and to
use sackcloth and the discipline. Nothing
could succeed against this devil in the
form of the elixir, and every night at the
same hour the same play was enacted
rounded with cucurbites made in pink
sandstone, gigantic alembics, crystal
serpentines, it was a strange mixture,
and bewitching light cleaned forth
through the window. At even which
the last Angelus was rung, the door of
this mysterious place was discreetly
opened, and the reverend father went to
church to attend evening service, you
should have seen what reception
was given him when he crossed
the monastery ! The brothers
formed line to let him pass; they bade
each other keep silence. "Chut-he has
the secret!' The treasurer followed
him, and spoke with bated breath. and
with his head down. Amidst all these
adxlations the reverend father passed by
spongiNs His forehead, his broad
brimmed, three-cornered hood on the
back of his head like q halo, and looking
with delight around him at the great
courts, thickly planted with orange trees,
the blue roofs (where weather cocks
were turning round) and in the glisten-
ing cloisters, between whose elegant pill
lars the canons, newly clad, were defiling
two by two with restful countenances.
'sThey owe all this to me p said the
reverend father to himself, and even the
very thought of it puffed him up with
pride. You will see how the poor man
was punished for it. Would you believe
me, one evening during the divine SER
vice he arrived in the chapel in a very
agitated state, very red, and out of
breath, with his hood awry, and he was
SO much shaken that when he took holy
water he plunged in his arms up to his
very elbows. At first this mishap was
put down to his being late, but when he
began to make exaggerated bows to the
organ loft and the galleries around, in
stead of to the high alter, and to rush
through the church like mailman, and
stroll hither and thither in search of his
place in the stalls, and when once seated
he bowed to right and left, smiling with
an imbecile look in his face, q hum of
establishment filed the three naves. The
monks were whispering to each other
over their breviaries: .sWhat is the mat
ter with Father Gaucher? What is the
matter with Father Gaucher ?"
The Prior twice, with an impatient
| movement, let his croiser fall in order to
impose silence. It is true that the
Psalms were still being heartily chanted
at the extremity of the choir, ,sbut the re-
| spon5es were not SO spirited. Suddenly
| in the midst of the Ave Verum, Father
Gaucher falls from his seat, and begins
intoning in clear voice: sThere lived
once upon time in Paris a White Monk.
Patatin, Patatan, Tarabin, Taraban," &C.
This last act caused general dismay.
Every one got up. Cries of Remove
him; hs is possessed with the devil!" The
canons crossed themselves. The Prior's |
crosier began to exert ITSELF But Father
Gaucher did not observe or hear any
thing, and two strong monks were
obliged to drag him out by the little
door of the choir. He was meanwhile |
kicking like one possessed, and continued !
with ranawed zeal his sonp of Joafot;,,