The Manchester journal. [volume] (Manchester, Vt.) 1861-current, 1882-05-04

drained, and the godfather, hsving smiled
bcuevolently upon the gcdehild ana EN-
braced his gossip. hade the family good
evening
Jean Philippe insisted on seeing him
home, at least part Of the way. and they
set out arm in arm. singing.
From time 10 time they stopped to say
their prayers, as the saying Of the country
is--thai is. to toss of pint or hghta pipe
at any house where there happened TO be a
light visible. | may add that the whole
country side ,winkled with chapel lights
as the sky with stars, for you see, il was
Twelfth Night, and everybody was cele.
brating the Feast OF the Dean--even the
polioemen--so so they met no one on the
roads.
Say, friend, remarked the farmer, as
they walked along; though you have
famous appetite, ] no longer wonder thai
YOU have so little fat on your ribs. Yen
must have busy time OF it. How much
that is to say, how many do you NOV a
day, eh?
oh, bout sixty thousand day, should
say, on an average; sometimes more some
times less.
Sixty thodsand day2 Dear, dear
And how many did you NOW down to day,
il it's fair question?
Not single one.
Not single onel Dear, dear Why
there are sixty thousand Christian folk
that ought to be under obligations to me.
Well, not exactly. You see, l take q
holiday now and then, andithis happened
to be one Of my lazy days; else ! couldn't
have accepted your kind invitation.
Bnt how do you tell how to cut down
and whom to leave, because ! don't sup
pose you do it at random2
OF course don't, but if you will come
home with me I'll show you with pleasure.
Oh, no, it isn't far-a mere bowshot from
here.
Jean Philippe looked about him. They
were then on the verge OF the forest OF
Baudour. From chapel to chapel, as the
saying is, they had been walking good
six hours; without his noticing it.
The residence of Death was mean and
poorly furnished hut, its sole ornament
the big scythe, which in the rays OF the
moon, shone as il it were made OF silver
For master. " worknan, such as you are.
luoth the farmer, l must say that you are
poorly lodged.
Oh, that makes no difference. The pot.
ism t the beer, you know. And, besides,
am not married. But come down stairs
I'LL show you.
He took his scythe and whet stone aud
lifted trap door in the flooring. Jean
Philippe followed him into the aperture,
md they went down, dark aud winding
stairs way, went down. went down, went
lown, till the farmer thought they must
Do coming 10 the very center OF the earth.
it last they reached big iron door.
Death opened it with key he took from
lis belt, an Jean Philippe started back as
t swung open.
In the the name of God, what is this?
le stammered, blinded by the glow OF
light which burst forth from the aperture.
Before him we're endless vistas of CALLER
es where shone millions OF lighted lamps.
There we're lamps Of gold and of silver, OF
copper and of brass, of iron and of tin.
amps Of every metal from the most
precious to the basest; lamps swinging
rom the roof hung against the walls,
anged in rows on steps OF porphyry. And
'et, curiously enough. Jean Philippe
.ould distinguish the shining Of each in
lividual lamp.
These, said Death, are the lamps OF all
he mortals upon earth. When one of
hem goes out it means that some ono up
bove us is to be cut down.
Curious And the golden lamps?
The golden lamps are kings aud princes:
he silver ones are dukes; the brazen ones
ire counts, and 80 on down to the small
in lamps, which are the common people
Nj are labeled, you see.
The farmer wandered up and down the
,allery for some time iD ecstasy. He
ioticed that the lamps Of many mobiles and
powerful lords, which might have boen
houg ght to be full OF oil, ware running
ow, and that many Of the brightest lights
we're in the mesnest sockets. When he
lad enjoyed the spectacle long enough he
aid to Death;
Say, god-papa, where are the lamps OF
luesne- Raboult, If You have no objection
o my seeing them'
None, whatever In the first gallery
lard section, on the left-hanl side.
VII
While the farmer proceeded on his tour
Il inspection, Death sat down and began
,uttlng an edge on his scythe against the
lays work. From time 10 time exclaula-
ions OF surprise or merrriment came from
he gallery, across the sound Of the stone
passing over the edge, Presently Jean
philippe reappesred looking decidedly as
say Death, he cried ercitedly, I've
,ome TO tell you that my lamp is almost
,nt OF oil.
Tha. is likely enough, replied Death
.unning his thumb along the blade.
The deuce you say Then it is pretty
near my timer
Death nodded.
say, perhaps you are sharpening that
,cythe toto