The Warner sun. (Warner, Brown Co., Dakota [S.D.]) 1885-1???, 1886-06-11
FATHER CRYSTALS ELIXIR.
A STORY.
The Culver.

'Do not suppose for moment that
the life OF monk in these days is one
whit duller than it used to be. Com
pdy, aye, and for the matter of that,
tragedy also, diversities our daily rout-
inc, as was the case when monasteries
would be turned into camps, and alb
bots in generalissimos. No more now,
than then, have monks ceased to be
human beings. Active brains are still
at work in spite OF the tonsured crown,
and the spirit ofmischiefis alert within
the monastery walls as in the olden
time"
Thus spoke my agreeable friend
Father Bartolomaus. Capucin friar,
quartered in the French town at which
/ was staying. We had become ac-
quainted during one of my sketching
rambles near his monastery, and soon
became the best comrades imaginable.
A man of the world, an agreeable talk
er, keenly observant and warm-heart-
ed withal, his society was the greatest
possible boon to me on my sketching
tour.
With him it was out of the question
tofeel dull for moment. AS for him
self, he was always in the highest spir-
it's and no wonder! Such dire prob
lens as making a fair income out OF
ones brains, paying rent and taxes,
bringing up young family, starting
ones boys in life, finding suitable part
ners for ones daughters, and all the
rest OF it, would never whiten his hair
or turrow his brow prematurely. Per-
petual immunity from every day anx-
tiles, an existence as easy as that
of q blackbird in a well-filled gar
den, were surely worth the puny sac
rifce made in exchange. To forswear
domestic happiness, to cut an out
landish figure in the eyes OF the world.
to feel born at the wrong epoch in hui
man history, what mere bagatelles
were thesel Anyhow Father Bartolo-
maus looked and acknowledged him.
self the happiest fellow under the sun.
Comedy, to begin with. We will
leave tragedy for tomorrow, he went
on. tsLet me relate comic incident
that happened only few years ago,
for the truth of which can vouch.
You will then see that if we monks
weep more freely than you laymen
over mortal weaknesses, at least we
can laugh with the merriest of you
when moved by wit or folly.
IL am now going to tell you a story
of the jolliest company that ever al
ternated good cheer with fasting and
rollicking talk with midnight
virgils. Not mothers son OF
this brotherhood but who WAS
born wag, and might have got
his living by his wits in the Middle
Ages as King Jester or Court fool; or
In these as comic actor, Perhaps q
few years of buffeting with the world
might have sobered them; but, as 1T
was; their good humorand pleasantly
received no check from the first OF j an
uary to the last day OF December.
True it is that occasionally high spirits
overstepped the bounds OF discretion,
and fun was apt to become too ebul-
lient for decorum. However, derelic-
tions which are only amenable TO such
slight punishments as the mumDllng OF
few extra Paternosters and fasts So
called, are not very dreadful affairs,
and indeed, only served to add zest to
the daily routine. But for such oc-
casional filips, existence might have
appeared little fiat and insipId.
Lake certain luscious wines it would
have palled upon the appetite. But
when was the tide OF human affairs
ever permittd an unbrokenly calm
and even flow? OnSa sudden this
smooth condition OF things WAS
brought to an abrupt end. Like Q
bomb shell in the midst OF the happy
fraternity came q piece OF evil news.
''Their Superior, a genial, amiaDie
man OF the world, a man who loved, u
not jollity and carouse, at least COM
fort and good fellowship, was trans
ferred to another house, In his place
was sent taciturn, sour, ascetlc
theologian, who evidently held ike the
hermits Of old, that the only justin
Aable existence is one of self-mortifca'