The pioneer express. [volume] (Pembina, Dakota [N.D.]) 1883-1928, 1886-04-02
POOR PILUQUEsNE

POOR PILUQUESNE
Chesterfield is the little sleepy town
in the Midlands, with the crooked
spire, which lies amidst a congeries of
Golfers and coal pits, and which you
may see from the railway, midway be-
tween Derby and Sheffield.
Many years ago, in the midst of the
peninsular war, q number of French
prisoners were informed there.
Many years ago famous company
ofplayers was acting there in the dingy
little theatre down u backyard.
One night, when "rhe Maggie, or
the Maid OF Paliseau," was acted, it
was noted that some half dozen of the
exiles, in whom the name of the
play doubtless evoked some memory
of their native land, came and paid
their hardly-hoarded pence to the GAL
lery. Poor fellows! They took their
pleasures rs sadly as if they had been
Englishmen of the Fen country.
The performer who interested them
most was the maybe. When she fled
across the stage with the spoon in her
mouth they applauded incontinently.
At her next aerial flight she stuck mid.
way on the wire, and the curtain had
to descend in order to extricate her
from this perplexing predicament.
The manager, an Irishman and great
actor i'll his time, stood at the back of
the gallery Ia very scanty one), and
wrathfully objurgated the property
man, addingvarious oaths to his seed,
breed and generation. Up went the
curtain again, and once more the mag
pie tried her flight, but in vain, and
the play had to end as best as itcould
without the aid OF so important per-
former.
At this moment q fair, fragile boy of
seventeen, with flaxen hair and great
blue eyes with black lashes and eye
brows, timidiy approached the irate
worn and stained French naval uni
form. There was hectic flush on his
cheek, and he coughed slightly, as,
taking off his cap. lie bowed politely
to the manager. Then i'll the prettiest
broken English he commenced:
pardon, mile pardons, Monsieur
Di1ecteur, Ia pauvre maggie no fly
straight. nuke Ter skim along like u
lettle butterfly"
"Ah! be off wild your broken-down
English, boy" said the manager.
"Spake to ME Ill the language of La
Belle France. Sure, am native and
to the manner born, for l got my
twopennorth at Douay. lei en- parle
Francois. lei" he exclaimed, with a
furious Irish accent, as he placed his
hand on his capacious chest.
Thus urged, the boy explained vol
ubly in his native tongue that he would
undertake to make the magpie fiy
across the stage without difficulty.
The next minute they were behind
the scenes. AS they approached the
property room the manager roared:
LARRY! Larry! Come out o that,
you thief ofthe world. wonder you re
not ashamed to LUX me in the facet"
II am that same, yer honor" re-
sponded the man; "but sure it wasn't
Larry's fault that some BLACKBOARD
was a!ther sticking n tinpenny nail in
the old magple's gizzard. Bad luck to
her for a basic of a bird, anyhow!"
"Well, here's a young gentleman all
the way from France who's goin' to
set the crayture right" said the man.
ager.
The French lad bowed ingratiating.
ly, and glanced wistfully at the prop.
erty man who at first looked daggers;
then he growled:
"Young gintleman! Shure if it
wasn't for the trousers, it's a young
lady he'd be afther maxim, and a
beauty, too. All. well! P'raps his
father was in Bantrry Bay in 'os with
Gineral Hoche and the Shan van Voght
with the rest OF the bhoys. Anyhow,
he's a stranger among these murth-
ering Sassenachs, SO give us taste of
your fist, ma boucchaleen bawn!"
With that henearly squeezed the lads
hand to a pulp.
Whatever pain he endured he only
looked up and smiled. The smile went
straight to Larry's heart, and from
that they were brothers. In five
minutes the boy put the maybe
right.
From that time forth he was scarce.
ly ever out of the theatre. He soon
made himself usefulin ahundred ways
to HONEST Larry, who, although he
couldn't speak word OF French, was
n capital pantomimist, and succeeded
in making himself thunderstorm. When
ever he came to dead hitch he went
to the beautiful Miss We're, the leading
lady, who had been educated in a con-
vent in the lower countries and who
spoke French, German, Italian, Dutch
and Walloon as auently as her moth.
er tongue.
Then the manager, who had taken
to the stranger, was always at hand
with his atrocious Hibernian French;
besides which poor Piluquesne THAT
was the lads name) spoke many En-
glish words, and the youngsters of the
theatre spoke many French ones-very
badly, 1t is true, but still intelligibly
enough.
They generally called him "Poor
Pill" or Pill for shortness.
He told then, that he was "the only
son OF his mother, and she was F.
widow" and that he had been q mid