St. Landry democrat., 1888-03-03

| lOFIu, WneFedC he CLUTCHES Inc Ueu
head and hangs on, laughing con-
sumedly." The other children, in va
rious stages of undress, stand in the
doorway and peep in, palpitating; their
fluffy, blonde heads make yellow blurs
in the bright morning sunlight, and
flannel petticoats of a SPANS length
! stand out from their straight little
waists like a faint Renaissance of the
ballet last night. They SNATCH a fear
full joy in watching the open insur-
rection of this brilliantly rebellious
brother. But suddenly deep, ominous
tone, like the growing of distant thun-
der. interrupts the high-pitched, FEM
mime concert. Father enters in his
dressing-gown. Father has been using
the flesh brushes-the kind with long
handles-and being a man rich in
knowledge of the world, knows that
there are times when actions speak
louder taan words, though father, be-
ing lawyer, has necessarily a firm
belief in the eff cacy of spoken lam
guage. In this case his actions speak
quite loua-you can hear them across
the hall. Their information is at once
sibilant and sharp. They have soft
and yet resonant quality-the echoing
smack of a slap. Father withdraws as
BERTHE rises.
On ordinary evenings, when there
| are no guests BERTHE and his little Sis
ter, Resale, spend an hour after din
ner in the drawing-room with mamma
| and father. This is the hour when
father is to enjoy the society of his
children. This is the hour when
the family man snaps his fingers at the
| bachelor, and the bachelor signs and
looks and sighs again. This is the
hour when the parent, resting after the
tolls of the day, studies the budding
souls of his little ones, and decoys them
into unfolding their childish thoughts
and dreams. But the complex BERTHE
| does not care to be unfolded. He af-
fects the secret reticence of the third
Napoleon. A battling eye has BERTHE
! which, when father. spurred to prodi-
gies OF duty by mamma. questions him
on his progress in school, he is wont to
roll his eyes upward and fix them upon
the chandelier, saying, with bored
frown:
"Well, father, I've told you all I
know. certainly think you ought to
be satisfied to hear I've the best Latin
accent in the school. :"
Haven't you made mistaken says
Aunt Loo, from her corner by the
lamp. don't you mean Latin brogue3"
Father stays the sofa pillow which is
about to be launched at Aunt Loo's
head. Aunt Loo has good nerves, and
TRANQUILITY turns the page of her book.
while BERTHE, breaking away from
father, begins game of play with Ro-
sale. Rosalie is seven-two years
Bertie's junior. A wholesome tradi-
ton makes her love her brother, love
which has been cemented by many
mutual fights. Rosalie is already quite
warrior-a modern Herminius. She
won her spurs two years before in the
Homeric conflict, when she locked
BERTHE in the lumber-room and refused
to let him out Her attack is brilliant,
her retreat unexpected and expedi-
tious; but she is deficient in staying
powers, as evinced in this particular
battle when, upon Bertie's crying
through the key-hole,
'.Rosalie-you fool-let me out,
and then:
Resale you plaguey fool-let me
out,
she had weakly surrendered and opened
the door, 1t is necessary to add that
Bertie-outside the door-illustrated
in mastery style the process of ''get-
ting square with her, Up to that
point the honors had been easy.
Moreover, Rosalie is too lachrymose
ever to make great General. She
has constantly been known to go
through whole campaign-from the
nursery, down the staircase, through
the hall, and into the drawing room,
dissolved in tears, but game to the last
The first tear-the equivalent among
youthful amateurs of the first blood of
professional circles-is always drawn
from Rosalie. She is also not to be re-
lied on. There have been cases on
record when, like Cleopatra at Actium
evidently failing popular among
warlike women-in the burning midst
of heroic combat. she has turned and
fled, up the stairs like q hare, into the
nursery like cyclone, over the chairs,
in between nurse and the window,
here to cover, Ianting and fearful,
waiting for the advent of the baffied
BERTHE, who enters, waving the bloody
shirt. Yes, certainly, Rosalie is not to
be relied on. It was she. who on that
dreadful day. when mamma was enter
tanning distinguished guest in the
drawing-room, quite disgraced the
family. A series of thuds, more or less
sickening. proceeding from the STAIR
head had caused the guest to start,
and nervously inquire where they came
from and what they were.
..Oh. nothing" said mamma lam
guidly, "only the children playing.
But said the visitor, as heavy
k4l L