The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1891-09-09
FOR MARSE CH0UCH0UTE

"An now, young man, wat you want
to remember is this-an take it fer yo
motto; No monkeyshines with Uncle
SAM You understand You aware now
O. the penalties attached to monkey
shinin with Uncle Sam. | reckon that's
bout all got to say; so you be on han
promp' tomorrow mornin at o'clock to
take charge o. the United States mail
bag"
This formed the close of very pomp-
Gus address delivered by the postmaster
of Centerville to young Armand YER
Ghetto, who had been appointed to carry
the mails from the village TO the rail-
way station, three miles away.
Armand--or Chouehoute, us every one
chose to call him, following the habit of
the creoles in giving nicknames-had
listened little impatiently.
Not SO the little negro boy who accom-
panied him. The child had listened with
the deepest respect and awe to every
word of the rambling admonition.
"How much you gwine git. Marse
Chouchoute" he asked, us they walked
down the village street together, the
black boy little behind. He was very
black, and slightly deforined: small
boy, scarcely reaching to the shoulder of
his companion. whose cast off garments
he wore.
But Chouchoute WAS tall for his six
teen years, and carried himself we'll.
"W'y, Pm goin to git thirty dolla' a
month, Wash. Wat you say to that?
Beta an hoein cotton, ant itr He
laughed. with triumphant ring in his
voice.
But Wash did not laugh. He was too
much impressed by the Importance of
this new function, too much bewildered
by the vision of sudden wealth which
thirty dollars month meant to his I'M
derstanding.
He felt, too, deeply conscious of the
great weight Of responsibility which this
new Office brought with it, The impos-
ing salary had confirmed the impression
left by the postmaster's words.
"You gwine git all dat money! Sakesl
Wat you reckon Maine Armand say? l
know she gwine mos take "a fit wen she
heah dat"
But Chouchoute's mother did not
"nos' take fit" when she heard of her
sons good fortune. The white and
wasted hand which rested upon the boys
black curls trembled little. it is true,
and tears of emotion came into her tired
eyes This step seemed to her the be-
ginning Of better things for her father
less boy.
They lived quite at the end of this lit
tie French village, which was simply
two long rows Of very old frame houses.
facing one another closely across dusty
roadway.
Their home was cottage. so small
and so humble that 1t just escaped the
reproach of being cabin.
Every one was kind TO Nine. Armand.
Neighbors ran in OF mornings to help
her with her work-she could do so little
for herself. And often the good priest,
Pere Antoine, came to sit with her and
talk innocent gossip.
To say that Wash was fond Of Nine.
Armand and her son is to be poor In
language to express devotion. He wor-
shipped her as il she were already an
angel in Paradise.
Chouchoute was a delightful young
fellow; no one could help loving him.
His heart was as warm and CHEEKY as his
own southern sunbeams. II he was born
with an unlucky trick Of forgetfulness-
or, better, ghtlessness-no one ever
felt much like blaming him for it, 30
much did 1t seem part Of his happy,
careless nature. And why was that
faithful watchdog, Wash. always at
Marse Chouchoute's heels, il it were not
to be hands and ears and eyes to him,
more than half the time?
One beautiful spring night Chou
choute, ON his way to the station, was
riding along the road that skirted the
river. The clumsy mail bag that lay
before him across the pony was almost
empty, for the Centerville mail was q
meager and unimportant one at best.
But be did not know this. He was
got thinking Of the mail. in fact: he waa
only feeling that life was very agreeable
this delicious spring night.
| There were cabins at intervals upoI
the road-most Of them darkened, fo
the hour was late. AS he approached
one OF these, larger than the others, h,
heard the sound Of fiddle, and saw
lights through the openings of the house
1t was so far from the road that whel
10 stopped his horse and peered through
the darkness he could not recognize thu
dancers who passed before the opel
doors and windows But he knew thi
was Gros Icons ball, which he hat
heard the boys talking about all TIN
week.