, 1886-09-09

- WofuS ut Unsupported ichN-
ing us all moved to the heart, and poor
Valentine sobbing disconsolately.
In Paris everybody still remembers the
dreadful scandal Count Waldhiem's sud
den disappearance occasioned- The scan
dial was perhaps. the greater because the
count had left no debts unpaid. Such
conduct society Judged to be preposter-
Gus. incom%prehensible.
What business has a man to run away
after paying all his debts. when by pay
ing half of them and cheating his credit
ors ont OF the rest. he could have gone on
living like a gentleman Two days later
the scandal mongers had a new and still
more sensational topic to comment upon
Valentine Ghemar had broken ali her
engagements and quilted Paris the same
night. All the newspapers were full of
romantic stories about this double disap-
pearance, till Mt last an enterprising re-
porter OF The Figaro succeeded in ascer-
tanning that Count Waldheim had sailed
from Havre to New York, and that Val
entine Ghemar had been on board the
same vessel. Since then nobody had ever
heard from either of the fugitives; the
huge waves of Partisan life closed over
them, and in a month both were forgot
ten.
This old story was revived in my mem
DRY by the sight of the majestic waiter in
a small New York wirthschaft. what an
extraordinary resemblancel' l thought;
could 1t be possible," But l laughed at
the bare suggestion that the brilliant,
dashing Count Waldneim could have
been transformed into a kellner.
Presently his parsonage returned, bear
ing the bottle of wine / had ordered,
neatly wrapped up in a napkin. While he
was uncorking 1t, an elderly gentleman,
apparently an habitue OF the place, en-
tered the garden, and passing by the
waiter. tapped him Familiarity on the
shoulder, saying: "How do you do to-
night, Herr Baron"
l started ~involuntarily on hearing the
title, and again looked fixedly at the man.
The resemblance to Waldheim was per-
fectly wonderful.
why do they call you Herr Baron'" l
asked, while he was filling my glass.
at is n joke, sir, OF some of the friends
of the house" he answered, smiling dis
cretely: they pretend that | look like a
baron.n
Not like n baron" l retorted, staring
him straight in the face, "but very much
like a count. Did you ever hear of n
Count Won WaldheimS"
He turned suddenly pale and his hand
shook as he put the bottle down on the
table.
mo, sir" he answered with difficulty;
81 never heard the name"
His discontinue, however, already be-
trayed him. So | rose, and stretching out
my hand to him, said in an undertone:
"Waldheim, don't you know me?r
by al that is wonderful he ex-
claimed, .can this really be you, So
For heavens sake do not speak to me
laraf A@LAlw I.. " "
you should be the first to see me in such a
plightl'
"My dear friendlr l observed, do not let
this circumstances put you ont in the
least. II one of us is to be pitied, 1t is l..
| am n journalist"
Waldheim laughed, and said In a more
cheerful tone:
We'll. | am heartily glad to see you, all
the same. In half an hour we close here. Z
VIII you then wait a ONE for me
outsider We can have a talk about old
times"
| of purse assented, and an hour later
we were both established in a snug corner
Of a Third avenue oyster saloon in com
pany OF "a bottle of champagne to which
the Herr Baron had insisted on treating
me.
And Valentine Ghemar, where is sheiu
was my niNt lutSllOn. lnt papers SAlQ
Mt the time that you had gone off to-
gether.n
Mesquite in spite of me, however.
had not the remotest notion of the girls
escapade until she all of a sudden ap-
peared on the ship when We were already
out of the harbor. Poor girl she was a
madcap, but n good, loving soul"
"Iou speak OF her in the past-is she
dead?o
Worse" ~rejoined Waldheim, sorrow
fully she is marrled.'
Married" l echoed; ais it possiblel To
whomfn
"To an Alsatian named Schmittberger,
n head clerk at one of the most important
breweries in the city"
"How very extraordinary all that
sounds" | exclaimed. "But now you
must make a clean breast of it, my dear
fellow. Come, tell me all tina has be-
fallen you on our glorious soil of lib
erty."
Waldheim filed both our glasses. and
began by r~eciting in a lugubrious voice:
"Infandum, regina, jules renovare do
loremi"
My career so far has not been a glorious
one. l have been alternately IA washer in
n public bath, a street cleaner, a reporter
on a German paper, a boy on a farm in
Jersey (the people actually called me
boy n gave me the romantic name of
jimmy, a tramp, a sleeper in the parks,
and a car-driver. My last position was
that of a sandwich / trotted up and
dow Broad way clad as an Indian, with
a great advertisement for Indian clubs
on my back, and another for some mi
raculous toothache-drops' on my breast. |
was a com bination sandwich. Two eter-
priainn minds had ppttal tl,fr o,nu-to.g L..
utilizing my back and front.
"Once l narrowly escaped becoming a
valet de chambre. That was nfter having
passed three nights in Madison park. An
advertisement in the papers caught my
eye of a lady wanting a man-servant of
distinguished appearance in a frst-class
household. | called at once at the house
(Which was indeed set up In most elegant
Style and proffered my services. The
lady seemed greatly pleased with my APP
p~earance, and the thing was all settled
between us, when she remarked: "Of
course you will lave to shave your
whiskers and mustache; it is the rule of
my house The blood shot up into my
face at these words. All of a sudden 1
became painfully aware OF the position l
was about to accept with All the conse-
quences it involved. l declined and went
back to the park.
And yet, ms you see, l have not escaped
my fate. Instead of serving one, | serve
many. / VIII tell you what 1t is, my
dear fellow, n European aristocrat in this
country is about the most useless being
who ever trod the earth, unless he is rich.
What ave / ever learned that might have
been OF any use to me in this country,
Except the art of spending money, moth
ing thoroughly. The only knowledge |
could put to profit here was that of a ser
wants or q walters duties, which | had
formerly claimed from others. | know