Little Falls transcript. [volume] (Little Falls, Morrison County, Minn.) 1876-1894, 1886-02-12


recitation of his most. marvellous ex-
PLOTS had never awakened III me The!
least feeling Of credulity, and Achille
Meurtrier easily took his place in my ],
mind among heroes and deni gods, be-.
tween Roland and Pirithous. s:==s5*3
III.
At this time was q great wanderer
in the suburbs, and I occupied the leis-
ure Of my summer evenings by solitary
walks in those distant regions, as I'M
known to the Parisians of the Boule-
wards as the country Of the Caribbees,
and of whose somber charm endeay-
ored later to tell in verse.
An evening in July, hot and dusty,
at the hour when the first gaslights
were beginning to twinkle in the misty
twilight, I was walking slowly from
Vanguard. through one of those long
and depressing suburban streets lined
on each side by houses Of unequalled
height, whose porters and portresses in
shirt sleeves and calico sat on the steps
and imagined that they were taking the
fresh air Hardly anyone passing in
the whole street, perhaps mason
white with plaster, a sergent de vile, a
child carrying home four pound loaf
larger than himself, or young girl hur-
rying on in hat and cloak with a leather
bag on her arm, and every quarter hour
the half empty omnibus coming back to
its place of departure with the heavy
trot of its tired horses. F.; 80.
Stumbling now and then on tho pave
ment, for asphalt is an unknown luxury
in these places, I went down the
street tasting all the charms of stroll
Ter. Sometimes stopped before an
enclosure to watch through the broken
boards the fading glories of the setting
sun, and the black silhouettes of the
chimneys thrown against a grcenish
sky. Sometimes through an open win
dow on the ground floor caught sight
Of an interior, picturesque and familiar;
here a jolly looking lamdress holding
her flat iron to her check; there work
men sitting at tables and smoking in
the ground floor of cabaret, while an
old Bohemian, standing before them,
sang something about liberty, accom-
panying himself on an old guitar.
Suddenly I stopped.
One of these personal pictures had
caught my eye by its domestic and
charming simplicity. She look so hap
Ply and peaceful in her simple little
room, the dear old lady in her black
dress and widows cap, leaning back in
an easy chair covered with green
Utrecht velvet, and sitting quietly with
her hands folded on her lap. Every
thing around her was so old, and SEEM
ed to have BEEN preserved, less through
wise econo1 = than on account of
hallowed memories, since the honey
moon with Monsieur of the high COM
plexjon, in frock coat and lowered
waistcoat, whose oval crayon ornament
ed the wall. By two lamps on the
mantle shelf every detail of the old
fashioned furniture could be distinguish
ed, from the clock on fish of artificial
and painted marble to the old and anti
quated piano, on which, without doubt,
as a young girl i'll leg-of-nlutton sleeves
and with her hair dressed la grecque,
she played the airs of Romagnesi
Certainly a loved and only daughter,
remaining unmarried through aer affec-
ton for her mother, piously watched
over the last years of the widow. It
was she, / was sure, who had SO ten
derby placed her, dear mother, she who
had put the ottoman under her feet, she
who placed near her the inlaid table
and arranged on it the waiter and the
two cups. I expected already to see
her coming in, carrying the evening
coffee, the sweet, calm girl, who should
be dressed in mourning like the widow
and resemble her very much.
Absorbed by the contemplation of q
scene so sympathetic, and by the
pleasure of imagining that humble
poem, I remained standing some steps
from the open window, sure of not be-
ing noticed in the dusky street, when I
saw door open and there appeared
oh how far he was from my thoughts at
that moment-my friend Mcurtrier him
self, the formidable hero of tits on the
river and trays in unknown places.
A sudden doubt crossed me. I felt
that I was on the point of discovering
mystery.
It was he, indeed. His terrible hairy
hand held tiny silver cotf+epot, and
he was followed by a poodle, which
greatly embarrassed his steps, valiant
and classic poodle, the Of poodle blind
clarinttte players. a poor beggar's poo
die, poodle clipped like lion, with
hairy ruffles on his four paws, and a
white mustache like General of the
Gymnase.
Mamma, !" said the giant, in q tone
Of ineffable tenderness, ''here is your
coffee. I an, sure that you will find it
nice tonight. The water was boiling
well. and / poured it on drop by drop"
Thank YOU said tho old lady, roll.
ing her easy chair to the table with an
air; thank YOU, my little Achille.