The Northern Pacific farmer. [volume] (Wadena, Minn.) 1878-1885, 1883-11-22
A FRENCH LOVE STORY.
Alphenso and Hyacinthe.

Alphonso and Hyacinthe.
From the Texas sifti1gs.
Why do the flowers bloom in spring?
Why do the soft winds sigh? Why do
the birds ein.?
The mysteries of nature are not told
to everybody, neither to me nor to you.
In Enquire Within for Everything"
you will find many things; but not that,
not By any means.
They sat under tree in the old forest
of Vraimont.
Oh! how the birds did sing! How the
flowers did blooml The sun shone down
on the peasant milkmaid and the cheer
full COW. And the milkmaid smiled. and
the COW kicked out and sent the milk.
maid on her back, all among the dainty
DAISIES.
We have much to be thankful for,
that nature thus makes US happy.
Eth, bieu! let me 60 on with my story.
Life is short:
They sat under a tree. They were
young, and their lips met. Why should
they not have done so? No one was
looking, and the sweet, shy daisies could
never have had it in their heartsto up
braid them.
II love you, Alphonse," said Hya-
cynthe: One would have fancied that
sweet, clear voice to be the washing OF
the wafer on the pebbles OF the
brook, or of the flannel petticoats
in the rude cottage of the peas
ants.
"Alphonse, she said, II love you"
Then all the world: was Joy to that
vo,1ne man. In the words Of the great
Shakespeare it was liam" also. We
have no: that word in French, but we can
borrow it from the false, cold English
when we wish it.
And then she said that she loved him
thew arose and looked around the beau
tiiul temple of nature.
She was young. Fresh from the pen
sion. Yet she was wise, as are the
daughters of Paris. She had read
NJ Zo|a'g "Assommoir." She had
partly tasted what life was, this shy
maiden.
"Hyacinthe." he faltered out, tremb-
ling WITH passion, "you are my life, my
love, my heart, my joy!"
And again they kissed. And he left
Llk6 luNIh VI uAo GU
moustache upon those sweet lips, and
the pearl powder from her cheeks
was transferred to his classic chin.
It was nature, and nature must
be right. Why SO? We cannot tell,
ignorant one. Look in the diction-
''Let US walk home, dear Hyacinthe,"
said Alphonse.'
There is not q facre to be had" she
answered. land if there were, you are
poor, and have no money to pay for; it,"
and she burst into tears and laid her
heal on his shoulder. So they wan
dered through the woods, did these
you e ones. And the birds sang. And
tie COWS, seeing them, and seeing how
much they loved each other, frisked
gaily over the sward and butted the
gardes champetres into the bitches.
And the Lark singing in the skies sang
But they had not thought of home.
"Ah!' she said, ''what will the good
mere say? 1t is late. Alphonse. She
will give me the spanks, and, oh, Al
phonse! for u young maidi is not sweet
to be spanked" and she sighe. deeply.
"But you will love me torever?" he
asked. ...,
IL will, core of my heart!" she an.
swered; and again she wiped some pearl
powder off as she chung to him.
They reached the ga es of the park of
NJ. le Baron Suc4ue Absinthe.
"Will the fates be good to us?" he
said.
''They will mott" cried a stern voice
and the mother of Hyacinthe stood be-
fore them.
She was one OF the ancient regime,
was the Baroness. She had been beau
ty once; now she was. old, and held a
cane in her hand.
Il will fetch you un oner," she said in
in the old familiar patois If the noun
ta,ns of Boulogne, where she had dweit
in her youth, and had met the wealth
and rank of Angleterre, and mixed with
them, calm, cold people though they
were
Tonight" size almost sbrieked' "you
marry the aged Tarenton!" and she tore
her daughter away.
Alphonse stood outside the park and
listened to the shrill screams OF the I'M
happy one. Then he went back to Paris
and joined his regiment, and departed
for Algiers.
So Closes the first chapter of their
young lives. She was spanked.
He went away. Love can be divided
sometimes, and you can split your dish
es at the restaurant of Paris. We know
the world. il.
Oh! yes. ::
It was the salon of Nine. de Tarenton.
is the spirit of Paris?-Absinthe?
NJ hot Co 1~k g. S.,s1sI oor1iol-nr
something of she kind.
The spirit of Paris is wit and sweet
ness, and genteel compliment and rail
cry.
Madame de Tarenton had. somewhat
neglected her gu SITS, and was sitting
alone. She was the fine woman, the
fine woman to perfection. The exotic
Of the salon, perhaps. A fiower-an
azalea, if you will. But no matter.
There was look Of melancholy on
her face. There had been high words
with the baron that day.
''That bill of Worth's, madame" he
had said, ''is more than on million FIVE
hundred thousand francs!'
"a woman cannot dress in Paris en-
der one hundred thousand francs a
month, Would you have me- 60 as a
OCRHhl,O1 WOuAu yOu AlkAV LILO "C1bA Ill WIG
salJn the bathing costume of Trou ville?''
ami she laughed a knocking laugh.
A husband is always in the way un.
less there is a bill to be paid. Fla! ha!
Who are there in the whole world like
Yet she had dressed and dined and
had received.
A woman must conceal her care like
her age. (Ha! ha! that is q good sen.
tence, you calm, cold English!)
She saw some one coming towards her,
She thought she knew the face.
''Can L fetch you an ice2" he said.
She thought sne remembered the
voice, but she did not answer:
"Cau I fetch you an applet" he said.
Then she was convinced to the heart
that she knew that voice.
&C n fetch you fowcr-your fan
your powder-putt-your last novel-you1
oots-your carriage?'
at is A1phonse," she murmured, with
bloodIess, ighless gasp. ......,.,,,
She knew it was Alphonse. That
thoughtiul, Partisan attentionl Only the
child of Paris has it. The rest of the
Englishmen or Americans but clods?
Men! Bah! We would not have it SO.
1T is Alphonse!' she said. -
"And you are married." said Alphonse,
. ''And we loved," said she. ri.
"And we were young. Alphonse said.
Then he paused and she was silent. -
The heart may be too full OF hot
thoughts sometimes, as the mouth may
be of soup. Both must be got rid Of
but how? It is awkward. .e-.5.... .
Those spanks your mother gaze you
must have hurt you, Hyaclnthe," he said