Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1885-10-07


amid trees, enclosed by 8 wall and pal.
ing. 1thas been untenanted some time,
The family had sold everything, and
quilted the village some days before.
''They were poor?" suggested the
Englishman. ~ FL
The man addressed shrugged his
shoulders as he replied
"Well, not entirely. The good man
and his wife had died. His sister and
their daughter lived in the house till
the last harvest. The son was away in
the army of Africa. Young NJ. Des-
moulins, the miller's son, had paid
much attention to the young lady, and
had been repulsed by her. So being
the owner of the property, he has TAX
en- bis revenge, and managed to fright
en- them away: Poor girl! He was
mauvais sujet!''
''But he had no right to do so,'' said
Mr.. Whitney. The house was mort
gagged to an Englishman; he is dead
now. 1t was handed over as security
for advances to the young soldier faith
er."
''That is as may be. The house is
closed up, the af6ches of the sale are
on the doors. 1t is desolate-empty."
sis it far from here?''
"Well, no. A walk Of perhaps half
an hour or so will bring you there
amongst the trees yonder. You see
those tall poplars, those to the east
ward?''
Peter Whitney nodded assent.
up there you will find the place; it
stands above the road on your right
hand; a little path leads up to the house.
! You cannot mistake it. -
"Thank you, monsieur. replied
Whitney. II think will go and see
it,"
Peter Whitney made his way toward
the poplars and passed them. He
then plunged into more wooded coun-
try, and the road tended southeast.
Then he came to a gate and path on
the right, as indicated. He entered
and assembled the path, passing in the
direction whence he had come. But
in moment he recoiled in astonish-
ment.
Seated on ruined portion of wall
was young soldier, apparently on a
furlough. A small bundle lay beside
him in the rank grass; short stick was
still hooked within it. The mans atti-
tude exhibited the deepest detection.
His head rested, hatless, on his arm;
his attitude, the limp and hanging
right arm, the hidden face, the whole
pose of the poor fellow, told sad story
of disappointment. He had returned
full of life and ardor to the place, per-
haps his home, and had found it desert
ed; the torn bills of sale still Tapping
idly in the autumn wind which stirred
his tangled locks.
Peter Whitney, Notwithstanding his
very unromantic name and calling, was
eminently sympathetic. Of course he
had no business to be so, but nature,
though she may fit US for certain call
ings, does not deprive us of our better
feelings. We may harden ourselves,
and pride ourselves on our sternness.
But Peter didn't. Lawyer though he
was, he was tender-hearted.
''Poor chap he mentally remarked,
she has found his home deserted. Our
house, by the way. An! may gain
some information here.'
| It was rather contrast to the cheer
full scene which the Englishman had
just left by the shore. Here the soil
| tude tended to sorrow and love; to the
! pity which is born of sorrow, and akin
to love. The setting sun threw it's
| glory upon the tree-tops in the south
west, and the poor young soldier lay
despairing, travel-stained and overcome
with grief, as the shadows orept slow
| ly along the ground in sympathy.
The spectator after while advanced,
and then paused. Again he advanced
and touched the young man, who arose
with suddenness, angry at being dis
turbed.
He glanced at the Eng]ishman, then
turned round again without speak
7'My friend, said Mr.. Whitney
kindly, lean I assist you? You are
i'll, sorrowful; I may be able to help
you. DO you know this place?''
Know the place indeed! Was he
not a native of it? Had he not lived
there until the conscription came, and
when he was paid to take the place of
another young man. The money was
welcome.
So much the stranger managed to
gather from the half indignant remarks
Of the soldier, who at length yielded
to the kindly influence the English
man generally exercised. He sat up,
this young Frenchman, and, after a
few minutes, recovered his vivacity.
He told how he had been treated.
"You went as substitute, then?'
Eyes; my relatives were poor; the
man had held out threats. loved my
sister-oh! where is she? Monsieur we
were not always poor; we held up our
heads once. The Republicans brought
our family down. We were for the
old regime, we others, but l went.
My poor sister promised for marriage
by her enemy and mine. Oh Pulche-
RE! ma belle seur, ma pouvre petite!'
"Pulcherie your sister! Not Pulche-
RE Malais?''
1.-The same, monsieur. How could
you know? You are English said
the astonished Frenchman.
this house and in her. An English
! Hilu OWLS Ine property; Cue ieuI uaS
not been paid; the former owner, the
Englishman, is dead; all in chaos; but
your sister,
Eyes, yes; tell me of her,
''She is in London-was in London
a few days ago.
Then Peter Whitney told the young
man of his meeting with the young
lady, and of his having escorted her to
Lincoln's Inn Fields.
"5 An, yes! It It's is the there her benefactor
to him. Our aunt knew him we'll. He
was lawyer-un avocat!'
what! an English solicitor? What
was his name?''
"Bernardin-M. Jules Bernardin-he
was our friend. He helped us; he as
| 1ont ~, cor,1r;tv Than mon