Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1890-12-11
the QUEEN WINS.

still reigned prime min;ster-the same
friend of humanity who made the COM
passionate decision concerning the
peoples welfare: why build hos
pitfalls. Can not the people die on the
roads if they ike2'
This evening Maurepas had the
honor of being permitted to lead the
beautiful Marie Antionette to the
card table, but, complaining of a Sc
we're headache as they passed through
the saloon, the good queen excused
him from further attendance that the
pain might not be increased. As he
was fastening back through the anti
chamber to the dancing hall, where
the king was taking bis coffee, he per-
ceived beneath the gobelin tapestry of
the famous Louvois window a man in
citizens dress, who regarded him ex-
pectantly and bowed low before him.
1T is all right, Dumonet,' whispered
the asthmatic old man; this evening
his majesty will taste of it.. And he
forthwith thrilled out one of his hun
dred madrigals, which, in truth, were
tame enough. but which his fstterers
found very witty. In the royal apart
ment he saw just then Louis XVI,
take from a sugar basin two delicately
broken Jumps of sugar and sweeten
his coffee with them. AS the king
took a mouthful Of the coffee the min,
isterial friend of the people approached
and asked respectfully:
How does your majesty find the
coffee this EVENING"
tAs usual, excellent
sThe best Mocha Is always upon
your majesty's table; but does the
sugar sufficiently moderate the bitter
ness of the coffee?
Louis XVI. was sensitive to mock
cry and irony even to timidity; there
fore he said inquiringly:
sWhat do you mean by thatT
Maurepas laughed. Your majesty,
permit me one question. How much,
sire, do you think these two pieces
ofsugar cost2' The king looked un-
easy.
DO you wish to test my mathema.
tical abilityY Maurepas continued to
laugh. We'll, then, l will answer
your problem: Sugar costs the peo-
pie about 80 sous pound. If l reck-
on eighty pieces to the pound it makes
sou for each piece; but since to me
as king everything is quadrupled, l
have this evening consumed 8 sous
worth of sugar
This sugar Is the gift Of one of your
subjects, who counts himself happy
that it is considered worthy q place
on your majesty's table; therefore it
costs you nothing, sire, but the giver
values every piece at full Lous dor.
You are beside yourself M. de
Maurepas. Eighty Louis dor for a
pound of sugar! At this rate should
be compelled to sell Rambourlet to
supply my brother with sugar for a
year, for you know he takes handful
to every cup. But explain to me your
jest
in moment, your majesty And
he took the sugar basin and emptied
the contents upon the marble table
and counted the pieces 'Forty-shree,
with the ones used forty.fve, worth
1880 francs; but look, your majesty,
what dazzling witness and how lig ht
lis and how sweet, without any Bit
ter aftertaste.'
Come, now. said Louis, interrupt.
ing his babble, rs suga- ever bitter2'
And your majesty will never guess
from what this sugar is made
The king was not without some
knowledge Of chemistry, therefore he
answered hesitatingly:
Naturally from the sugaEcane.'
Pardon me, your majesty, it is beet
root sugar.
sBeet-rootl What is beet-root?'
The duchess Of Chartreus, who was
listening, drew near and said: 'Beets,
sire, are little red leaves, of which my
servants made salad.' a h ,7ssra /
M. de Maurepas cut off her explain
alton with a malicious laugh. 'Beets
are edible roots, which people as we'll
as cattle find palatable, anu now they
have been found to yield sugar
Respect kept the brilliant company
out of hearing distance, and they
watched eagerly the strange proceed
ings. All this examining. weighing,
and counting of the sugar tossed up
the court gossip among them like a
bright soap-bubble. Who first whis-
pered it: The king has been poisoned
by a cup Of coffee1'
Heaven forbid. And we have
drunk the same coffeeT
mo, not the coffee-it was the
sugar
sSome one go tell the queen
So whispered, murdered, and chat.
tered the excluded circle.
marie Antionette sat with the duch.
ess Of Polignac, her tenderly loved
friend, at cards.
sWhat ails you. Agatha?' asked she
kindly, as the favorite sighed.
Agatha de Polignac raised her
,.or.,,,oh hr0vys, bnod ovd ra,d rnra;l,x