Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1886-02-19

credulity, and Archille Meutrier easily
tooknis place in my mind among heroes
and demigods, between Roland and
PirithOus.
II.
AT this time was great wanderer in
the suburbs, and | occupied the leisure of
my summer evenings by solitary walks in
those distant regions, as unknown to the
Parisians of the boulevards as the coun-
try of the Caribbees, and of whose SOM
her charm | endeavored later to tell in
verse.
An evening in July, hot and dusty, at
'the hour when the first gas-lights were
beginning to twinkle in the misty twi-
light, | was walking slowly from Waugh
rlrd, through one of those long and de-
pressing suburban streets lined on each
side by houses of unequal height whose
porters and portressas 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 a mason, white with
plaster. sergeant d. vile, child carry
ing home four-pound loaf larger than
himself, or young girl hurrying 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.
Stumbling now and then on the pave
ment, for asphalt is an unknown luxury
in these places, went down the street,
tasting all the charms of a stroller. Some
times | 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 greenish sky. Sometimes
through an open window on the ground
floor | caught sight of an interior, pictur-
e5qu2 and familiar; here a jolly-looking
laundrcss holding her fat-iron to her
cheek; there wOrkmen sitting at tables
and smoking in the ground floor of a
cabaret, while an old Bohemian, standing
before them, sang something about
liberty, accompanying himself on an Old
guitar.
suddenly I stopped. .
One of these personal pictures had
caught my eye by its domestic and charm
ing simplicity. She looked so happy 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. Everything around
her was so old, and seemed to have been
preserved, less through a wise economy
than on account of hallowed memories,
since the honeymoon with monster o. the
high complexion, in frock coat and
lowered waistcOat, whose oval crayon
ornamcnted the wall. BY two lamps on
IL C mantel shelf every detail of the old
fashioned furniture could be distin-
guished, from a clock on fish OF artiti-
cial and painted marble to the old and
antiquated piano, on which, without
doubt, as a young girl, with leg of mutton
sleeves and with her hair dressed a la
Grecque she played the airs of Roma5-
nesi.
Certainly loved and only daughter,
remained unmarried through her atfec-
tion for her mother, piously watched
over the last years of the widow. ltwa
she. I was sure who had so tenderIy
placed her dear mother, she who had put
the ottoman under her feet, she who had
placed her near the inlaid table and ar
ranged on it the water and two cups. |
expecte already to see her coming in,
carving the evening coffee, the sweet,
calm girl, who should be dressed in
mourning like the widow and resemble
le' very much.
Absorbed by the contemplation OF a
scene 50 sympathetic, and by the pleasure
of imagining that humble poem, re-
mained standing some steps from the
open window, sure Of not being noticed
in the duSky street, when | saw door
open and there appeared-oh how far he
was from my thoughts at that moment
my friend Meurtrier himself, the formid-
able hero of tilts on the river and trays in
unknown places.
A sudden doubt crossed me- | felt that
Twas on a point of discovering a mys-
terry.
It was he indeed. His terrible hairy
hand held tiny silver coffee-pot, and
he was followed by poodle which
greatly embarrassed his steps-a valiant
and classic poodle, the poodle of bind
clarionet players, poor beggar's poodle,
poodle clipped like lion, with harry
ruffies on his four paws, and a white
mustache like a general of the gymnase.
Mamma" said the giant in tone OF
ineffable tenderness, "here's your coffee,
am sure that you will find it nice to-
night. The water was boiling well, and
| poured it on drop by drop
"Thank you," said the old lady, roll
ing her easy chair to the table with an
air; "thank you, my little Achille. Your
dear father said many a time that there
was not my equal at making coftee-he
was so kind and indulgent, the dear
good man---but ! begin to believe that
you are even better than me.
AT that moment and while Meurtrler
was pouring out the coffee with all the
dclicacy of young girl, the poodle, eX-
cited no doubt by the uncovered sugar,
placed his forepaws on the lap of his
mistress.
'Down. Medorr she cried, with a
benevolent indignation. 'Did anyone
ever see such troublesome animal'
Look here, sir! you know very well that
your master never fails to give you the
last of his cup BY the way" said the
widow, addressing her son. ''you have
taken the poor fellow out, have you not?'
Certainly, mamma" he replied, in a
tone that was almost infantile. 81 have
Just been to the creamery for your morn
ing milk, and put the leash and collar
on Medor and took him with me-"
Reassured on this point, important to
canine hygiene, the good dame drank
her coffee, between her son and her dog,
who each regarded her with an inexpres-
II L Inr