Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1881-03-19

they babe each other keep silence. "Chut
he has the secret I" The treasurer fol-
lowed him and spoke with bated breath,
ard with his head down. Amidst all these
adulations the reverend father passed by
sponging his forehead, his broad brimmed,
three cornered hood on the back of his
head like halo, and looking with delight
around him at the great courts, thickly
planted with orange trees, the blue roofs
where the weather-cocks were turning
round); and in the glistening cloisters, be-
tween whose elegant pillars the eanons,
newly clad, were defling two by two, with
restful countenances.
"They owe all this to me /" said the
reverend father TO himself, and even the
very thought of it pulled him up with
pride. You will see how the poor man
was punished for it. Would you believe
me, one evening during the divine service
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 ne 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 exagge-
rated bows to the organ loft and the galle-
TICS lAotCdu VI W blC U4Sll dAtt1A,
and to rush through the church like a
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,
hum of astonishment filed the three
nayes. The monks were whispering to
each other over their breviaries "What is
the matter with Father Gaucher? What
is the matter with Father Gaucher?"
The prior twice, with an impatient
movement, let his crosier fall in order to
impose silence. 1t is true that the Psalms
were still being heartily chanted at the ex-
tremity of the choir, but the responses
were not so spirited. Suddenly, in the
midst of the Ave Vernum, Father Gaucher
falls from his seat, and begins intoning in
a clear voice: "There lived once upon
time in Paris white monk, Patatin, Pa
tatan, Tarabin, Taraban," etc. This last
act caused general dismay. Every one got
up. Cries of "Remove him; he is pos
sessed with devil !" The canons crossed
themselves. The prior's crosier began to
exert itself. But Father Gaueher did not
observe or hear anything, 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 renewed zeal his song of
Patatin and Tarabin.
The next day at dawn the unfortunate
man was on his knees in the prior's ora.
tory, and was performing his penance amid
floods of tears cit was the elixir, it
was the elixir which was too much for
me-" he kept on repeating while he beat
his breast. The prior was quite touched
in witnessing such genuine grief.
"Come, come, Father Gaucher, quiet
yourself, all will right itself. After all, it
was not so very scandalous as you think it
was 1t is true there was that horrid song
which was little bit hum-hum. It was
only to be hoped that the novices dld not
hear it. Now tell me exactly how it all
happened. 1t was by tasting the elixir,
was it not? You were rather too prodigal
with it. Yes, yes. l understand; like
Schwartz the inventor of gunpowder; you
have been a victim to your own invention.
And now tell me, my honest friend, is 1t
necessary for you TO taste yourself this
most dreadful elixir ?"
I" Unfortunately it is, my lord the me-
ter shows me how much alcohol l ought to
put in but for the finishing touch would
only trust to my own taste"
'Ah, very well but listen, and | will
ask you another question. When you
taste this alcohol out OF necessity, do you
ike it? Does it please you?"
'Alas yes, my lord +" answered the
unfortunate man, getting very red, for
the last two nights especially, 1 found out
particularly nice taste in it. | am quite
sure the devil has played me the trick I
am quite determined not to use the meter
again, all the worse if the liqueur is not
tasted enough, or finished up"
Heavens protect us from such a reso-
luton" answered the prior, sharply.
eve must not displease our customers
All that you can do, now that you have
had lesson, will be to be more careful
Let us see, about how many drops does it
take to make up your account? Fifteen
or twenty? ?"
Twenty, should say"
"The devil would be very clever to catch
you with twenty drops. Also, in order to
prevent any future accident, | will permit
you to say your evening prayers in the dis
tillery, instead of coming to church. And
now go in peace, my reverend father, and
please take care to count your drops"
Alas, the poor reverend father counted
them in vain the devil held him and
would not give him up. Strange noises
came forth from the distillery. During
the daytime everything was quiet. The
father was always calm he prepared his
chatting dishes, his alembics, carefully
sorted his herbs-they were all herbs found
in Provence, rare ones and gray and varie-
gated ones exhsling strange perfumes.
But at night, when the simples were in
fused and the elixir was cooling in i'm
mense black caldrons, the poor mans
martyrdom began. Seventeen eighteen
nineteen twenty The drops fell from
the pipe into the pewter goblet. All these
gulp, without much feeling of delight.
But the twenty-frst he longed after. Oh!
TO taste that twenty first drop so in order
to escape temptation, he would go and
kneel quite at the extremity of the labora-
tory, and his thoughts were for some time
on his pater nosters. There rose a little
perfumed smoke from the still heated
'liqueur," which enveloped him, and,
whether he chose or not, bringing his
thoughts back to his caldrons. The
"hqueur was of beautiful golden green
color. Inhaling the grateful steam, and
slowly stirring 1t with MS pipe, ne
seemed to recognize the malicious eyes Of
Aunt Begon in the small glistening spangles
that foated over the emerald mixture;
they seemed as if laughing at him. and to
say Come take another drop!" Drop
added to drop at last filed the goblet to
overlooking. The exhausted monk fell
down in large arm chair, his body quite
powerless, his eyelids half closed. He
remembered his sins. by fits and starts
repeating in low tone in a delightful,
penitent way "Ah | am damning my
self l am damning myself" But what
was worst of all was that he found writ
ten at the bottom of this diabolical elixir
by some foul means all the bad songs that
Aunt Begon used to sing: "Three cid
little women that liked FEAST" or Berge-
rette (maitre Andres friend), ''Does she
ever go to the woods alone. :" and always
the famous one relating to the White
n n