Weekly Chillicothe crisis. (Chillicothe, Livingston Co., Mo.) 1878-19??, 1883-03-29
SECRET OF THE CHATEAU

IL was in the days of the French Rcvo
luton, when the reign of the Goodies,
Of Liberty had closed all the churchc.
and stopped every outward religion,
form, and when the reign of terror wa,
at It's height in the land. The little
town of Verrevillc, in the south OF
France, lay all wrapped in q glory OF
evening sunshine that wrought rare
magic among the dingy houses and in
the dr0wsy streets aud alleys. Now il
played golden jokes with .he fountain
mat danced in broken basin in the
little square; now it clothed with new,
wondrous' picturesque charm the gable
OF yonder old decaying mansion; now il
glldied into small, gloomy back court.
ana turned it into u fairy's grotto by
changing every pane OF glass in the
tlny windows round it into living
gem.
Up the principal street of the town
came numbering II cart bearing a sad
burden. 1t was collin, over which
was spread Il coarse, shabby black
mantle by way of pail. At each side
OF The heavy cart horse which drew the
vehicle walked u dark-robcd figure, n
man and woman. Slowly the little
funeral party advanced over the rough
pavement, that made the wheels of the
cart jolt noisily, and with no reveren,
sound OF woe. Slowly on they came
Though the river of sunlight; and as
they went, two or three women, loiter.
ing with their pitchers near the fonn-
tain, watched them with eyes which
had a touch of sorrow in them, and
in low tones.
"Ah, poor young lady!" said the old
est of the group. She's the last of
lhem-the very last. | recollect the
coming home of her mother, Madame
Ia Comtesse, as bride, and all the
train OF lackeys in gold lace, and the
prancing of the six gray horses and the
cheering of the crowd as she threw sill
yer pieces among them like rain in
Autumn And now TO think that this
should be the funeral of her daughter!
have seen strange changes in the land
since | was your age, Babette, my
child.n
Babette tossed her head and the red
handkerchief upon ita little disdainful
y, as if her modern lights showed her
things which were more worthy of note
than anything which the old woman's
memory could call up out of the past.
"What good were they in the land,
those arstOcrats?' she cried. They
wele of no more use than the statues in |
the garden of the old chateau, where
we poor folk can wander now with our
babies or our sweethcarts at our will"
but the young countess was of n |
different pattern from those who went
before her." here put in third woman,
when my husband lay sick with the |
fever, and everybody fled from our cot.
tage on account of infection, she came
to visit us, and stood by his bed often
and felt his pulse better than the doc
tor, and sent him strengthening food
and medicine. She was no more like
her grandmother, who used, when |
was a child, to go rolling along in her
coach, all one piece of silk and pride,
than one of the glittering buttons on
the livery coats of the counts footmen
w6s like bright bit of money that we
can spend to buy chocolate and sugar,
and all sorts of good things that will
rejoice our husbands and childrens'
hearts"
"Well, anyhow, if she had not died
now she soon would" said Babette.
decidedly. "Her husband is in the
prison at Toulon, and she was quickly
enough to have followed him there, /
know on good authority; and what a
prison ends in for aristocrats in these
lays we all know better than we use
o know our pater nosters in the times
when it was the fashion to say Them"
"Her death seems to have been n
sudden and rather strange onc," said
he old woman who had first spoken.
Eyes" replied the other elder wom-
IN; "it was but two days since saw
Ter crossing the footpath through the
ield opposite our cottage"
"They say she fell down in fit as she
vas standing before her dressing-table ,
arranging her hair, and never spoke
fterward," said the other old dame. !
,ouring out her information rapidly, ,
IS though she feared Babette might be ,
with her.
THAT is often the way these aristo- ,
rats go out of the world, if they are left
D die n natural DEATH" exclaimed !
'abette, dipping her hand into the
ountain and tossing some drops of d
'ater about contemptuously, as il they $
'ere drops of aristocratic blood. d
They eat and drink and sleep so much !
hat their brains and bodies get dull a
nd heavy, and they just fall down and a
10 for very WEAKNESS of life."
81 wonder what is 10 become of all q
ne rich plate and jewels that belong to n
ne familyP" said Rose, the eldest of i
he women. /,
"Oh, M. lie Mayor will soon find out v v
nat, cried Babette. "He will be in r
ne chateau, depend upon it, by to- Il
borrow morning or before, and he'll n
'ok into everything, and make good "
SO OF it too. He's a man that knows n
hat he's about, and that has no false
nd feeling about the aristocrats Very a
kelly he'll distribute some of the plun. n
cr OF the Cllteau amono tts moor frii. ~ .