Rock Island daily Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1886-1893, 1891-12-05

through Uue uecaylnS fence TO see In the
greenish sky the afterglow fade behind
the black silhouette of some tall factory
chimney. Then sometimes a glance OF
the eye would reveal through an open win
dow picturesque and familiar interior;
here fine buxom laundress holding her
iron up to her cheek, and there some work
men at table in wineshop; before them
an old street singer, with long gray locks,
his voice quavering on the word Liberty"
and accompanying himself on a guitar the
color of greasy soup-Chardins, Van Os-
tades, all.
Suddenly / stopped. Ont of these DO
nestle interiors in an instant won my at
tention by its charming air of simplicity
and comfort.
She was so happy and contented in her
little faded parlor, this good old lady in
her black dress and widows cap, seated in
the depths of an easy chair covered with
greenish Utrecht velvet, her hands peacea-
bly, clasped across her knees. Everything
around her WAS old and modest, and
seemed to be preserved less through dis
Greet economy than from its sacredness as
souvenir; doubtless of her honeymoon,
passed with the gentleman in the coat la
Goethe, the Powered waistcoat and com.
pleXion little Drowned by time, whose
oval pastel adorned the wall
The two lights on the mantel were suffi-
cient to permit me to distinguish the old
bits OF furniture in the room-the clock
mounted on painted fish carved out of
marble; the upright piano of forgotten
form, on which young women, in mutton
leg sleeves and hair la Greek, used to pIay
airs that were doubtless from Romagnesi
was confident that a child, an only one
and well beloved, had filially remained I'M
married to care tenderly for the old widow
1t was she who had so carefully seated the
old mother, who had put the cushion IN
der her feet, who had wheeled near her
this little marquetry table and placed on
1t that salver and those two cups; waited
TO see her come in, bringing the evening
cotIee-this daughter, sweet and calm, who
would be dressed in mourning like the old
lady, and who would greatly resemble her
Absorbed in the enjoyment of scene so
sympathetic and in the pleasure OF imagin-
ing this humble poem, was standing be-
fore the open window, confident | would
not be observed in the dark street, when
saw door open in the back of the old
fashioned room and suddenly appear-oh,
how far from my thought!-my companion,
Slaughter himself, the hero of all the tits
on the river and of numerous struggling
wrestling matches
swift doubt crossed my mind. felt
that | was on the point of discovering a
secret.
1t was he, sure enough! His terrible
hairy hand held a little silver coffee pot;
he was accompanied by a poodle which
played around his legs-a brave and classic
poodle, the poodle of TIE blind men who
play clarionets, the poodle of the Con
Vol DIES Pauyre" of Nigneron, the noodle
Sh ! Ia !, 90
four legs and a mustache as large as that
of n stage general
Mamma" said the giant, in a voice in
etfabIy sweet, here is your coffee. think
you Will find it very nice this evening.
The water had thoroughly boiled, and
poured it drop by drop"
Thanks" answered the old lady, roll
ing her easy chair toward the table with
the movement of enfeebled old age.
Thanks, my little Achilles. Your dear
papa often told me had no rival in max
ing coffee. He was so indulgent, so good;
poor. excellent man. But l am beginning
to think that you make it still better
than l."
At this moment, as Slaughter poured
out the hot coffee, delicately As young
girl thinking about getting married, the
dog by his discovery of the sugar bowl
knees.
Down, Medorr' she cried with indirna.
ton. Did you ever see such a provoking
dogl Come, sir, you know very well that
your master never forgets to give you the
bottom Of the cup. Be quiet moment if
you can. BY the way" she turned to her
son, you have taken this poor creature
out to walk to-day"
Certainly, mamma" he answered in
voice almost iufantile. When | went to
the dairy for the mornings milk put Me
doris leader and collar on and took him
with me. And he feels now quite comfort
able. Don't fear, mamma, he's all right"
Treasured on the important point of the
dogs health, the good lady drank her
coffee with the air of epicure, watched
with inex9ressible tenderness by both her
son and the poodle
1t was needless to hear and see further.
l knew already what sort of family life
peaceful, narrow, pure, resigned - my
friend Slaughter hid under his fanciful
bravado. But the view that chance had
given me was at the same time so humor-
Gus and so touching that could not resist
the pleasure of enjoying it few minutes
and this indiscretion was sufficient for me
to learn the real truth.
Yes, this type of vulgar man about
town, which seemed to have escaped out
of one of Paul de Rocks novels, this des-
pot of wine shops and public houses per-
formed simply, courageously, in this poor
home in the outskirts of the town, the sub
lime duties of sister of charity. This
dashing oarsman had made no longer voy-
ages than the journey to mass or vespers
on Sunday with his mother. This profess
sor of billiards could only play bezique,
this breaker in of bulldogs was enslaved
by poodle. This Ralph Register Doyster
was an Antigone.
The next morning when went to the
office asked Slaughter how he had spent
his evening. Without the least hesitation
he spun for me the story of bloody affair
which took place at o'clock that morn
ing in the Boulevard 'Enfer, when he had
knocked down, with one blow of the fist
and his thumb passed through his key ring,
one of the dangerous providers around the
outskirts of Paris.
listened with an ironical smile. and