The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1882-09-16
HOW PERE PERRAULT SPENT HIS
LEGACY.

At fag end of the city, on the southern
side, where the gay heart of Paris subsidies
into scholarly and meditative quarters
stretches street to which certain details give
grotesque individuality. Viewed at midday,
under the most favorable aspect of sunlight,
1t cannot be said to be a cheerful street. 1t
is preternatually still; q number of shabby
dogs doze under its doorways; glimpses int O
back yards reveal piled up fragments of bones,
Accommodations of rags and paper, and the gen
eral a lmosphere is permeated with the smell
OF decaying vegetables. Should the visitor
come upon some of the inhabitants loiter ng
in the sunlight, men and women would appear
to belong to a race bowed of back, clad in
garments OF ragged and patched antiquity 70
assign probable original date to which would
puzzle the ingenious inquirer He would dis
cover, also, certain attributes common to the
physiognOmy of both sexes; thus when the
eyes usually fixed on the ground are raised,
they reveal the same expression of balanced
scrutiny: an expression that may be also de
tected in those OF the dogs, and would seem to
indicate in all alike a mind open to the
chances of life, but not expecting much from
these chances. This spiritless, vet inuuiring
attitude is doubtless result of the occupa-
ton of the tribe The aspect of the com
munlty, canine and human, shows that we
have REACHED that last rung Of the big social
ladder where stand those who minister in the
Iowliest form to the imperous demands civil
AaLiOu HldheS upOn human nature.
1t is the chiffonierS' quarter and this long
street is the Rue Moutfetard
The toll OF the Moufetardians is during
the night. Their sleep is during the day. 1t
is by no means always the sleep of the Just;
o1tener the slumbers proceed from the brandy
bottle.
One forenoon a commotion arose in the
Rue Northumberland by the unprecedented
tidings that the postman Gathering up the
street was inquiring for one of its inhabitants,
" Pere Perraut." "There was a letter for
Pere Perrault" host Of ragged children
ran out of the cutters profferng guidance to
the official They trotted by his side, pointing
with extended foreinger, while another de-
tachment set of at a run to wake up Pere
Perrault.
As the postman was turning into a grubbv
yard, there came out of il toward him bent
figure, led by clamorous urchinS. 1t was a
large-boned man clad in gray blouse; his
neither garments, mosaic of stained patches
showed that damp bagginess at The knees
which is the low-spirited protest of old gar
ments against rough usage He stood in
mouldv old shoes. The gaunt face, surround
ed by hanks of gray hair, was blank in the be-
Wllderment OF an unprecedented experience.
Behind this central group hustled up little
woman, with broad brown eyes, shrewd and
bright, her tanned features softened with a
network of wrinkles. " Is your name Per-
rault!" inquired the postman, cycling the man
Will Duslness-ilke ulS rust
But-yes-it is Pere Perrault-and lam
his Wife" exclaimed the woman with great
Volubility and gesture, her hands going up at
every assertion. The postman fumbed in the
black box suspended across his chest by a
strap: Registered letter. Can you write ~
he asked.
"A letter for me !" muttered the chiffonier.
He can't cried Mere Perrault, with vivac-
ity; the excitement that cast her husbands
WI s adrift sharpening hers. "He can't,n
echoed all around the yard, filing with spec
tators.
1t is to be doubted if any member of the
Quarter Mouffetard could have deciphered
the signs the learned of their species had de-
cided upon as vehicle of communication for
thought. This ignorance added to the sense
OF something extraordinary having happened
IN the arrival of letter among thcm-a letter
that was not to be delivered in an irresponsi-
Bile fashion, but required, before being given
up, the attes alton Of the recipient.
The postman opened a book. "Put a SIGN
"a cross-here," he said with the laconic
Drevlty becoming the man in office.
Pere Perrault laboriously affixed cross
where the postmans finger kept pointing, and
IL was evident as he did so tina his hand
hvered over to him, "a letter for me-" he
muttered again, as he turned it round and
round, and his face wore daZed expression,
as if he were looking at ghost.
TOI lOTIy years Lne world outside the Kue
Moufietard had resolved itself to him into a
number OF refuse heaps placed before its doors
out OF which he and his wife, baskets on back
lantern and hook in hand and a dog at their
heels, had nightly picked odds and ends the
sale OF which formed their means of livelihood
NO link connecteh him with the outside world
but the rubbish 1t flung into its streets. Paris
had gone through its agonies OF revolution
Governments came and went, he reign OF
trlVolity aud fashion eddied in the streets
where blood had lately flowed, and in all hese
transformations Pers Perrault had trudged
through the darkness, bending over the refuse
heaps, unaffected by the life beyond Now
from this outside world message came O him.
and he trembled before the mysterious visitant
'L'Ecrivain public" exclaimed Mere Per-
rault, giving an animated tug to the handker-
chief wound turban-like around her head
'L'Ecrivain public,n echoed children and
chiffoniers as Pere Perrault stood turning the
letter, his mind not having vet formulized the
necessity OF taking step toward the unravel-
ing OF the secret it held. His wife seized him
by the sleeve, and as she dragged him along
he instnctively clutched the missive and held
it against his chest. The old couple walked
rapidly, followed by a procession Of small
open-mouthed ragamuffins and those of the
chif1oniers who had sufficiently reused them
selves from their slumbers.
They made their way to q wooden shed
placed up against wall, over the door of
which an inscription announced that the ECri-
vain public dwelt within His charge for
reading letters was from ten to twenty CEN
times; and for writing, fifty confines, seventy