Idaho County free press. [volume] (Grangeville, Idaho Territory) 1886-current, 1891-10-30

uil UbOSc yOuIiS ulcu WHO Cdillt 10
town from the country to conquer
glory.
He was a writer. I soon found his
name in Sunday journals and reviews,
and then he began to write those
short and exquisite sketches which
have made his reputation. Thus five
years passed, when met him one day
in the EDITORS Office OF a journal for
which | worked.
Each OF us was as much pleased as
the other at thus meeting again; and
after the first "What, is it you? Is
that you?" we stood facing each
other, shaking hands, and exposing,
in laugh of cordial delight our teeth,
which in old times we used to exercise
on the same crust of poverty. He
had not changed. He had not even
sacrificed his long hair, which he threw
back with the graceful movement of a
horse who losses his name. Only he
had the clear complexion and calm
eye of q contented man, and his slim
figure was clad in most fashionable
costume.
1--WE won't drift apart again, will
WEI" said he affectionately, taking me
by the arm; and he led me out in the
boulevard, where the April sun gilded
the young leaves OF the plane
trees.
All, happy dayl How we exhausted
the "Don't you remembers?" "Do
you remember the fried eggs which
tasted of straw, and the dreadful
rce-milk, the melancholy air of your
landlady and the German who used
to pawn his watch every three
months?"
Those days of hardship for Louis
were finished. He had from afar ap-
plauded my success, as | had
watched his. But one thing did not
know and that was that he had
married a woman whom he adored,
and that he had a charming little
girl.
"Come and see them; you shall dine
with me-"
| let myself be persuaded, and he
carried me to a pretty surburb, where
he lived in cottage among the trees.
There everything made you welcome.
No sooner had we opened the door OF
the garden than young dog frisked
about our feet.
"Down, Dick! He will soil your
clothes"
But at the sound of the bell Mrs.
Miraz appeared at the steps with her
little daughter in her arms. An impos-
ing and beautiful blonde, her we'll
moulded figure wrapped in a blue
gown.
put on a plate more. I've an old
comrade with me-"
And the happy father; keeping his
hat on his head and carrying his little
girl, showed me all over his establish
ment-the dining-room, frightened by
light bits of faience; the study
Astounding in books, with its window
opening out on the green turf, so that
n puff OF wind had strewn with rose
leaves the printers proofs which are
scattered on the table.
"This is only beginning, you know
1t wasn't so long ago that we were
working for three sous line"
And while luxuriated under q
blossoming Judas-tree which saw in
the garden, Miraz, at ease in his home
had slipped into his working vest, put
on his slippers, and, lying on his sofa,
caught little Helen in his arms to toss
her in the air-"Houp lal Houp lap
do not remember ever to have had
a more perfect impression of content
ment. We dined pleasantly-two
good courses, that was ALL a dinner
without pretense, where we served
ourselves with the pepper mill.
The charming wife presided with he,
bright smile, having her child by hei
side in high chair. She spoke but
little, but her sweet and intelligent at
tention followed our light and para
doxical chat, the good fool
ing OF men OF letters; and at the dessert
she took rose from q boquet which
ornamented the table, and placed il
in her hair near her ear with % SUI
preme grace She was indeed that
lovely and silent friend whom dream
er requires.
We took our coffee in the study
they intended to furnish the sailor
very soon with the price of a story ia
be published by Levy-then, as the
evening was cool, fire of sticks and
twigs was built, and while we smoked
Miraz and ], recalling old memories
the mistress of the house, holding or
her knees little Helen. now ready fol
bed, made her repeat Our Father
and Hail Mary" which the little one
lisped, rubbing her little feet together
before the warm flame.
We saw each other again, often at first
then less frequently, the difficult and
complicated life OF literary labor tax
ing us each his own way. So the
years passed. Wemet, shook hands
. Every going wsll?" Splendid
w. And that Was all Then later