Fort Worth daily gazette. (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1882-1891, 1886-04-09
The DoOEEseBer Of The MOTIHG.
ny ALpHoNsE DAUDET.
Contributed, 1856.

keeper, as he stepped into the street,
nwhat fogln and quickly turning up his
collar and wrapping his comforter Sc
curcly about his throat, with bent head
and merry whistle, he fastened TO his
work. Truly fog indeed, but It matters
little, for in the street, and IN the heart Of
great cities, fogs last no longer than the
SHOWS. The roofs break IL, the walls alb
sorb IT, II hides Itself 10 the houses as they
are opened, making the stairs slippery
and the ratings moist The coming and
going of the omnibuses fllled with passen-
gers, those poor hurried toilers OF the
early morning, 1t, carry IT, disperse 1t. I
IL clinas to their clothes so thin and
worn, TO the waterproofs of the shop
girls, to their habby wells, and their great
boxes Of oiled cloth.
But upon the quays, the deserted
quays, the banks, tho bridges, the river
itself, II is indeed heavy fog-dense,
OPAQUE, immovable. Why, even the sun
rising up there behind the Notre Dame
CLEANS like a nightlamp under roughened
glass But Notwithstanding the wind,
Notwithstanding the fog, this Jolly book
keeper always follows the quays on his
wav TO bis office. There is another route,
but he never takes L.; the river seems TO
have a mysterious attraction for him. II
pleases him to loiter along the parapets
OF stone, to finger lightly the scars along
the ratings marked by the elbows OF the
stragglers. But at this hour OF the morn
ing stragglers are scarce only once in a
while he comes across woman, a
blanchlsseusa, with her basket OF linen
resting upon the tagging, or poor devil
leaning on his arm and gazing wistully
into the stream below.
Each time the bookkeeper approaches
group OF the kind he stops, regards
them curlously and then looks Mt the
water--there Is evidently something on
his mind connecting these people and the
river. Generally the river Is gay enough,
but to-day the fog rising between its
waves, the somber roofs along its banks,
and the leaning unequal chimneys re-
fected in the depths of the broken, smok-
Ing water, sadden 1t. What lugubrious
mandatory at the bottom of the Seine
thus discharges itself into the streets OF
Paris?
However, to this excellent bookkeeper
IL is not sad a. ALL the dampness, satura-
ting his clothes until not a dry thread re-
mains, does not trouble him IN the least.
With happy smile upon his lips he goes
on Just the same You see, he has lived
in them all his ife--he is used TO the fogs
OF the Seine. Besides, he knows that
when he arrives over there az his Office he
Will find things as they should be--his
foot warmer llled and glowing, his little
stove roaring and waiting for him, and
the little plaque, where every morning he
prepares his breakfast, hot and ready for
his coming.
81 mustremember 10 buy some apples,n
he said to himself, from time TO time, as
he whlstled and hurried on. You never
saw any one go to his work so gayly; but
always along the quays-along the quays
among the bridges, and following the
windngs of the river.
At last he is close behind Notre Dame
| At this point of the island the fog is dem
ser than ever. Coming from three sides
at once it half obscures the high towers
and glistening states, and gathering In a
mass at the end Of the bridge seems strug-
/ Cling to conceal something II Is barely
| possible in the thlckeued atmosphere to
| distinguish the confused shadows of PEG
| pie waiting on. the pavement like appli-
cants before the gates of hospitals.
"Good-day, Mother Margot, good-day,"
he cries ioyously, as he pays Tor his
apples SO fresh and red under the Ieeking
mist.
"Good-day, bookkceper, good-day," the
apple woman answers.
| Pushing open door nearly invisible in
the fog, he passes out of sight Oft wait
ing crowd. Within the courtyard stand a
horse and cart.
"Anything for usEn he calls rs he goes
eyes, monsieur; this time something
nice;" and the driver shakes himself like
a dog after his bath
In the office everything Is warm, and
comfortable, as he had expected 1t to be-
The stove roars in the corner, the foot
warmer is in It's place, his armchair rests
by the window, shaded by fog as If with
a curtaiui everything shines like wax
The bookkeepar breathes sigh Of content
he Is at home at last. Before commenc
ing work, however, he opens cupboard
takes out a pair Of lustre sleeves andes
fully draws them over his linen, then will
some bits of sugar, lemon and his nice
fresh apples begins to prepare his break
fast. He looks about him all the while
with an air of satisfaction; in the whole
of Paris there Is not an Office brighter
gayer or in better order But there /.
something singular about it. For exam
pie, the noise of water which you hear OIL
. tNNl1 elhc VI NOu, IL SuiIOuluS, ~ cuNtl
ops You rs ifyou were in vessel mt sea
Below the windows, against the arches o
, the bridge the Seine churns itself t
foam, and here II Is always dirty, always
incumbered with bits of pl nks, stave
! and wreckage. And in the house aud al
around the Office there Ia this sound O
dripping water. Something, | know no
what, In the sound of IL fills you with NOR
tai chill. II seems 10 fall upon hare
! surface, upon great slabs Of stone, upoI
marble tables, which make it seem evei
colder than 1t Is.
What is It they wash In this strang
house2 What ineffaceable stain tina
will not out2 Sometimes the splashu,
ceases, but never the sound OF drlppn.
water. Perhaps II is the fog condense,
, uron the roof by the stoves heat tina
falls so continuously, drop by drop.
The bookkeeper doesn't mind 10, how
, ever; he is wholly absorbed Ia the apple
singing In their earthen dish, with deli
cious aroma OF cooking sugar. Possibl,
this pleasant song prevents his hearing
the water.
> Are you ready, bookkeeper?r shouts
hoarse voice from the end OF the room.
AYE, aye,N he answers, and with
longing regret upon his apples he hurrle
away. From the door through which n
passes comes an air musty, cold, an,
smelling of mold and marshes, and
glimpse of wearing apparel hanging upol
cords TO dry-faded blouses and capeS
and calico dress with water drippin.
luriously from the sleeves as Il Just draw
from the tub He Is purple with cold a
he comes again into his Office and place