Waterbury evening Democrat., 1888-11-28
THE PIGEON PIE.

the apostles in tongues of fire, is usually rep resented under the airy and charming form of white dove. From that came an old 'gastronomic custom which is not without it's charm. In some parts of France they cele- brate WhitsEntide by eating with evident relish ct tho family table a fine pigeon stew or pie, which they piously sprinkle with the contents of bottles long under seal. Very flattering to the memory of the apostles, this culinary homage. but doubtless less agreed ble to the pigeons But that is not the point of this sketch, which concerns a story, or rather real adventure, which 1 witnessed in my boyhood.
 In her pretty villa on the banks of the Loire, the Baroness Alice de Maifeury, an adorable widow of twenty-five springs, had on Whitsunday quiet, social dinner party, at which was to figure, with honors, pigeon pie prepared by her own delicate hands, Chief among her invited quests was the young Capt. de Sabresac, called by the ladies the handsome Roland. He was counting, openly and conspicuously, the pretty widow, of whom he was at once the suitor and the friend. Handsome as Mars, straight as a lance, solidly molded as a gun, brave and loyal as his sword, the captain had but one fault, perhaps, that of having been born in a castle on the margin of the Garonne. He made others conscious Of his Artagnan pecu- ,liarities, and had somewhat boastful cour- age, with true Gascon valor. Alice, who suffered from his congregations, though his stories were told in all sincerity, was vexed at these braggings, always amusing and often witty, which she could not correct. This great rogue of handsome captain had as it | were Gascon mirage in his brain. | Dinner is announced, Roland offers his arm | to the baroness. They seat themselves at the table Immediately after the soup my cap | tain begins to relate his feats of prowess with | all his we'll known energy. Alice contracts | her beautiful and finely arched eyebrows and l bites her rosy lips.
 "So, my dear captain, you have never known what fear was in your lifef
 | "Never, baronessi except the fear of dis pleasing you. Otherwise I have always rs- mained as impassive as this salt cellar"
 "By the way,n asks with curiosity the | blonde Aiette de Toisac, "what is that story l about the wolff'
 "Oh! very simple affair." I was fifteen years old at the time. An enormous wolf, driven from his den by snow and hunger, came one fine day into the court yard of the castle. Armed with pitchforks and clubs the servants ran in, but at the sight of his grin ming jaws, ornamented with formidable tusks, his quivering tail and his wild eyes | which burned like live coals, no one dares to go near him. Then I come forward as | though about to pick strawberry and fasten a saucepan to the wolf's tail, then stepping back I clap my hands sharply. At the noise the game sets off dragging his tin ware, and he is still running"
 "Bravo!" exclaimed the gracious Julia d'Artinsec, land your wild boar. It seems, captain, that you almost missed him."
 "Come now, had left the military school at Saint Cyr to spend my vacation in the 1 ,lo futail. One morning 1 went into the woods l to gather a bouquet of honeysuckle for my cousin Bertha, who has the prettiest foot in the world. Suddenly I caught sight of a boar asleep in his lair. To tell the truth was only youngster, solid enough other wise, particularly in mathematics and love making. l throw stone and it falls di- rectly on the recluse Making bound he charges on me with unheard of fury. For arms a sword cane-that is all, The boar is dead. A gamekeeper comes and we cut up the monster. A few hours later offered my cousin Bertha the head of my victim, bear ing in its horrible jaws delicious bouquet of honeysuckle."
 Have you not also story of goat which is very dramaticF" asks the fascinating Countess of Beausoleil.
 That is a story of another sort 1 was second lieutenant, in garrison at Tarbes. While gathering some herbs on the mountain encountered a flock of goats, guarded by an enormous buck with gigantic horns. stroke him gently down the back. This fa- miliarity displeases him. Suddenly he goes off a few steps, strikes the ground with his bronze foot, lowers his big head and pounces down on me with the impetuosity of ava alanche. The goats take flight and the goat herd cries out that am dead. By spring skillfully calculated, avoid the shock of the creature, leap on his back, seize him by his beard, throw him over, blind him with the dust of the road and strangle him with my handkerchief. A rattle sounds In his throat !, he chokes, he is dead. The goatherd comes I indemnify him for the loss of the beast which I leave there, reserving for myself only the horns"
 ''As for me-" cries the lively Renee dt Puyfera, 1T want my bear. demand my bear.n
 1T serve him to you, madame, I was il Switzerland, climbing a wild mountain il merry company, Soon find myself quite distance from my companion climbers, being belated by my task of gathering roses"
 "Doubtless for your cousin Bertha," inter rupted the baroness.
 ''No, madame, for my mother, who wa kept at the hotel by slight illness. I con tinue my story. Suddenly I hear a fright full growing. I turn and see magnifcen
 bear about to eat some strawberries. cal
 him by his name. Good morning, Martin look smart, my friend. Come, Martin sup pose you dance the bourree little while fo
 mep Wounded in his feelings, perhaps, Q
 being taken for an Auvergne bear when h
 was Swiss, friend Martin rises on his hin,
 paws and comes straight toward me, hi 7 arms stretched out like an old comrade wh is coming to embrace you. At the momen - when he is about to press me against hi
 shaggy breast, skillfully bury q little dag
 ger in his heartl The next day invited m
 friends to breakfast on my adversary. Tn stakes, ladies, were excellent"
 \ s'So,n continued the baroness, "you hay
 never in your life experienced even a sus
 picion of fear2 regret it, captain. I hay
 little liking for these perfectly valiant mer IS these inamovably courageous fellows, tines
 souls that are invariably heroic, who hay
 the air of being regulated in their movement I | like clock like to have something hr i' mar betrayed occasionally in the heart of
 heroAn
 , IC. Fl. BRONSON
 IT IT. 0 R!Jl l..