Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1883-01-24
Antoine, the Blacksmith.

We have grand names in the Ardennes ;
old Roman names, modified into patois
toned down, as it were, to sober tint, suited
to the grimy trades to which Caesar, Angus
tus, Antony and Galba have betaken them.
selves.
Antoine, the blacksmith, was a sturdy
fellow, and in spite of stoop in the shoul'
ders he was handsome, too, and well.made
Yet, there was stiffness in his eyes that
made that stoop, at times, look wicked. He
had hazel eye-light hazel, the tickle color
the most tickle eye that shines the eye
ever changing, ever seeking something new,
ever wearying of what it hath, ever greedy
Of enjoyment in the present, ever ungrateful
for the past, unmindful for the future. Ah !
and when such an eye hath soft brown
lashes round it, It's the most dangerous eye
to woman's peace that ever lighted up the
head of tickle man.
Poor Eualie She was the prettiest girl
in all the commune, but not hardy and
brown like the Ardennaises. No touch Of
coarseness in herr too frail and delicate for
the rough climate and the rough people,
she looked like some pale exotic plant
brought hsrshly from greenhouse to die in
the cold, searching wind.
| was very sorry when / saw her dancing
with Antoine at the village festival; sorrier
still when met her next day coming home
from vespsrs, shyly by his side.
"Now, hang the man l' said within my.
self. Are there not hardy maidens enough
in the village-maidens who would bear his
fickieness as calmly as they will next win
ter's frost; why, then, should he fix on this
frail flower If he breathes over it one
frosty breath it will die"
"Good evening, Eulalie," said aloud
It's rather late for you to be out; the wind
is fresh, the dew is falling fast You should
go in, my child. You know the doctor said
you should avoid night air.
az have my shawl, sir, thank you," she
said in the sweetest tone imaginable.
al can take care of Ma'mselle Eulalie,
said Antoine with a curious fire in his light
eyes. "Monsieur's solicitude is ill-placed
Adieu, monsieur. We go to take turn by
the river"
l looked after them and sighed Then
turned resolutely away.
"a plague take my dreaming fancies !
thought /. "Why must l be always med
ding? And thousand of my poor warn
ings would be of no avail. Will pebble
on the seashore stop the tide? ?"
had house near that pretty hamlet
sort of summer rest-whither / resorted il
the fishing season, when the river near wa!
brimful Of trout and grayling and teeminl
with other fish less dainty. And so it hap
pened every day, as shouldered my baske
and rod and went forth solitary to my sport
/ saw Antoine, the blacksmith, buster a
his wooing than at his work. In the morn
ing met him coming to his forge and
knew that he had had speech with Eulali,
| ,,,b lift1a rIa for tho ma N horl
| a flower in his hand, or pinned daintily il
his wide-awake, and his light hazel eye
smiled mockingly as he bade me good-mor
row. Then in the evening, when | cam
home weary, well laden with fish, saw hi
forge fire dead and his tools flung dow
with hasty hand.
He is away in the summer woods will
Eulalie," said, and my basket and roc
grew strangely burdensome.
When | met Eulalie she was all smile
and brightness-a roster hue on her delicat
face, softer light in her loving blue eyes
and in her elastic step a newer grace. Look
ing at her happiness | grew to have softe
thoughts of Antoine.
| al have mistaken his character" 1 said
cor else this poor girls singular beauty cal
chain even his tickle fancy"
Then schooled and chided myself righ
| well for my own sore thoughts.
| "Come, now silly one," said, "own u
thysef that this rare beauty of hers-s'
delicate, so patrician-stirred within tn,
solitary fancy some strange dreamings
Not a girl made for peasant to love- raj
thy musings, but intended by nature for
lady. Nay, more, a princess of the woods
too delicate, too refined, to give her heart tt
one of these clowns. If, now, man
gentleman-knowing his own mind, coul'
have the courage to fling aside world,
trammels-'"
Ah, me how the threads of thin purs
snap even at light touch.
Antoine, the blacksmith, danced mex
night with Eulalie at the village festival
walked home with her from vespers, and, il
the morning, went fishing
Gan things are for the best l said
" She is peasant girl-the princess was il
my fancy-and she loves peasant Ho'
much better and happier for her than tn
sneers OF Brussels or the cold contempt o
an English provincial town !"
So hooked trout and grayling in glen
and valleys, where a painters soul woul
faint with ecstscy, and Antoine, the black
smith went into loves garden and pickle
my fairest rose.
What mattered it ? Philosophy and tn
worlds customs deemed us both right. Their,
fore, it was better for me TO fish and take IN
pastime, and leave Antoine, the blacksmith
to his work and his wooing. The last wa
sport TO him-crueler sport than mine fo
like wicked fowler, he shared my little bir
and slew it.
When went back to Brussels in the al
tumn left the pair betrothed. l was l
haste to 60 | resisted the great baron's Ell
treaty to stay week with him to hunt tn
wild bear and shoot foxes and wildcats i
the forest, and | rejected the more noble o
fer of an adventurous cantab, who ha
brought paper boat upon his shoulder
and proposed to row me and himself dow
the rivers Lesse and Meuse, and on to tn
worlds end if would.
In hard work at Brussels the winter wer
by coldly, the spring more coldly still the
came fiery summer, and thought gladly {
rushing back to my nest in the Ardennes.
"They were to be married at the Ne
Year." | said. She is quite matron nov
All, we'll Ihope Antoine, the blacksmith
will make her good husband--good an
true, for he has the fairest flower of th
: Ardennes."
asked no questions of my housekeep,
on the night OF my arrival in my summt
home, and in the morning the good dan
was busy, so | strolled down to the villag
and called at the good priests dwelling.
ayes, he is at home," said the priest
sister, 9" but he is engaged"
"Then will wait awhile" answere,
and stepped into the little parlor.
When the door was closed and | was lei
alone the hum of voices reached me, an,
looking into the garden, | saw the prie'
seated on rustic bench near the window
A muiiled figure stood by him, but sh
leaned against the wall, and could not Sc
her face.
"No, my father, let him who caused m
pain partake of it. 1t seems that | mus
die. Well, let him see me die. Let hiI
know what he has DONE"
The book | had taken up fell from m
hand. This was Eulalies voice, change
and broken. but no less sweet and musical.