Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1883-04-13


The Wan with the Golden Brain.
[From the French Of Alphonse Daudctl
There was once a man who had golden
brain yes, Madam, a golden brain. When
he first saw the light the physicians declared
that he could not live, that his head was too
heavy, too large. But he lived, neyerthe-
less, and grew in the sunshine like fine
young olive tree, only his large head threw
him forward constantly, and it was pitiful to
see him knocking himself against all the
furniture as he walked or ran about. He
often fell. One day be rolled from the porch
and went tumblng down the steps until he
bumped against the marble floor, when his
head gave forth peculiar metallic sound
like heavy piece of ore. They thought he
was dead, but when they had picked him up
they found only slight scratch, with two or
three tiny drops of gold cotted in his blonde
hair. That was the way they found out their
son had golden brain.
1t was kept profound secret the poor
little one himself knew nothing of it. Every
now and then he would ask his mother why
she did not let him play any more with the
other little boys in the street.
They would steal you, my darling" re-
piled she. The child was afraid of being
stolen, so he returned to his solitary games,
without complaining, and dragged himself
heavily from room to room.
1t was only when he was eighteen years
old that his parents revealed to him the fear
full gift he had received at his birth and as
they had gone to great deal of expense to
bring him up and educate him, they asked
him in return for a little of his gold. The
child did not hesitate he Immediately
what means the legend does not state
plucked out from his head piece of solid
GOLD q larga M a walnut and tbrayu II TOrOuH
ly into his mothers lap. Then dazzled by
the wealth he carried in his head, wild with
ill-repressed desire, intoxicated with his pow
er, he left the paternal roof and wandered
through the world, squandering his treasure.
From the royal manner in which he lived,
throwing away gold by hRudfuls, one would
have thought his brain inexhaustible. But it
was diminishing daily, and as it went his
eyes became lustreless and his cheeks hol-
low. Finally one day, on the morning after
a wild orgie, as he sat alone amidst the luxu-
rious aud costly debris of the feast, feebly
lit by the dying glimmer of countless waxen
tapers he was Mortified to discover the
enormous breach he had made in his treas
ure il was time to stop.
From that day he began to lead a new life.
The man with the golden brain, as suspicious
as a miser, and, ever fearful, fled from tempt
alton, and trying to forget the fatal riches,
which he dared no longer touch, went far
away to live alone, and to earn his livelihood
by the work of his hands Unfortunately, a
friend followed him into his solitude, and
this friend knew his secret.
One night the poor man was awakened
suddenly with pain in his head, frightful
pain he rose, dazed and bewildered, and
saw, in the moonlight, his friend running
away, hiding something under his cloak.
Another bit of his brain gone
Shortly after the man with the golden
brain fell in love, and this time it was all
over with Lin. He loved with heart and soul
pretty little blonde, who liked him pretty
well, but who liked velvets and laces and
dainty tassels dancing on her satin boots bet
ter still. The bits of gold fairly melted in
the hands Of this pretty creature, who was a
fascinating, perpleXing riddle, half bird and
| half doll. lie gratfed her least wish, her ev-
cry caprice he could never say, No; he
even concealed the sad secret CT his fortune
from her to the end, fearing it would grieve
her and cause her pain
owe must be very rich, she would often
say, and the poor man always replied, "Oh I.
| yes-very rich" smiling lovingly upon the
little blue bird so unconsciously eating his
| life away.
Sometimes, however, the narrowing fear
| would return to him then he would try to be
economical, but his little blonde wife would
come dancing lightly toward him
My dear, you know we are. so wealthy,
won't you please buy me something very,
| very, expensive Z" and he would buy her
| something very, very expensive.
Things went on in this way for two years :;
then one morning the little creature died,
quietly, without any apparent cause.-The a
bird. The treasure was almost all gone.
With what was left he determined to have a
magnificent funeral. The continual tolling
of bells, the carriages hung heavily with
Grape the horses covered with sombre trap
pings the exquisite flowers the velvet pail
nothing was too handsome or too dear. What
was the use of his gold to him now? He
gave it away by handfuls, to the church, to
the poor, to the undertakers, to everybody.
So, when he left the cemetery, there was
nothing left of the marvellous brain but few
bits of gold clinging to the skull.
He wandered about the streets all day,
with a bewildered air, and he reeled along
with his hands stretched out before him, like
a drunken man. In the evening, when the
shop windows were lit, he stopped before a
handsome show case, where rich stuhs and
jewels sparkled in the light, and he remain
ed there long time looking at pair of ex.
|
swans down. ~ know some one who will
like those boots" he said to himself smiling
and forgetting that his wife was dead, he
went into the bazar to buy them.
From her seat in the back parlor of the
store the shopwoman heard a cry she rar
quickly and drew back with fright on seeing
a man leaning heavily on the counter auC
looking at her with vacant air He held il
his hands pair Of little blue satin boot
edged with swans down, and held out the
other hand before hint was covered will
blood, and there were scrapings of gold Oh
the nails.
In spite of its fantastic air, the story i
true from beginning to end. There are ma
ny people in the world who are condemned l.
1.-Two with their golden brain and let it g
piecemeal, paying day by day, with thei
very hearts blood, the price of the meres
trAes of life. 1t is a long suffering, aug
mented day by day, and then when they ar
tired of enduring it
No, the story is too morbid. think
would be better to stop here.
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DIR. Erlenmeyer claims that the ancient He
brews were left-handed. Most of tho Arya
people write from left to right, and their book
, ava so nrinted aa tn read in that direction, o