The Saline County journal. [volume] (Salina, Kan.) 1871-1893, 1892-01-21
II AND ~.

They met at the Mont de Piete. Thi,
Office Of pledges and redemptions-thil
Partisan shrine Of poverty and central
altar of official usury-was crowded. A
long line like torpidly winding serpen,
stretched itself lazily far out into the
Rue des Blancs- Manteaux. For several
hours the clerk behind his grated win.
dow has droned out the numbers as he
bent his worn face above the greasy
book in which he is busy inscribing
names and addresses.
Again? So soon? And still prettyy'
with q vicious smile. Lace pin-with
small diamond-hum! Twenty francs
for II. Pass on quickly! Next! Well
And your A carved crucifix. Ivory No
Five francs for r."
mo morer'
mo more. Take or leave. You detain
others. Decide"
No. 70 hesitates. Suddenly a rough
hand tugs at her shabby shawl. She
turns. 1t is No. II. A moment later
the two girls stand side by side in the
street.
"Herei Take this" mutters II. 81
insist. stole your luck by my odd
number. Besides-it is to cheat the
devil No? Why? What q little fool!'
No. 72 has face like a pale fame.
Her lips are blue, and much shivering
has rounded her thin shoulders. II is
ready, fscile, feminine gamin. She
thrives on Paris as a dandelion fiaunts
from the crevice of paving stone. The
one is smiling, yet dumb with amaze
ment. The other talks, laughs, yet will
never smile again.
Tut! A few francsl What are they
to me? And / shall redeem my pin to-
morrow, while you q glance COM
pleted the sentence.
"And lit was that might celebrate
Psul's fete day."
"You live"-
"At No. =, an attic in the Rue Sainte
Marguerite. He-Paul-works at the
theater. II is good position, but it re-
quires that he appear well to keep it
This eats his earnings as a moth eats
feathers. We are from the south-Paul
and l. He is happy here-but r.
"Amuse yourself by starving that he
may-ohl / comprehend. Herer'-and
she draws her into wine shop. "Waiteri
A basket Now fill It'll First-a bottle
Of wine, then a sugared loaf-then 9
pate-some of those. IT'S I who shall
supply Paul's feast. But on one con-
dition, my friend-that you eat your
half. And the wine is for you" Paying
the waiter, Il drops the change into the
loaded basket.
And / who accept this-do not yet
know your namel" No. 72 is grateful,
but there are nc tears. Tears are q luz
ury with the poor.
"Call memo. IL"
II shall call you-my saint"
Anything but that, my girl. Well
72-I shall see you again" And she
watches her stagger away beneath her
burden.
"Mademoiselle is generousr ventures
the waiter, who has followed them out
side the shop.
Nonsense! It is my capricei She is
dying-that girl It is written. And
her Paul. A fine, selfish scamp, I'll war
rant" And with a laugh and whirl
on her heel she hurries away.
One year in Partisan garnet. One
year Of green country quiet exchanged
for the lullaby Of Paris-that mother
who too often sings her babies to their
deaths To be sure, there has always
been Paul, and looking in his eyes
Jeanne could forget her homesickness.
And with his arm for q pillow, her
straw had not seemed q hard bed. But
he was forced to be at the thester early
and late. And nowadays his absences
were growing longer. Jeanne fancied
st times that he was less tender. Paul |
was tired-tired Of being poor. Was it
that Poverty was pinching Love to
death? She did not know-but felt o
chill about her heart-s dangerous thing
when the body is also cold.
Some one else would beat the ragout |
on Paul's next fete day. But Paul came |
and went and noticed nothing.
One night in his sleep Jeanne heard
him utter name.
She leaned to listen, but he said no
more, only smiling in his sleep. She
thought il was ''Susanne" In the morn
ing sne QUESTIONED nlfn-
II was dreaming. What Of it, said
he, staring FORWARD.
Before he went away that morning he
drew her fondly toward him and ten
derby kissed her rough and redeemed
slender hands. It was q revival OF love,
Jeanne thought, and sang softly to her.
self all Of that day. Life was easier
after this. Paul grew more kind, and
new pleasure was also hers.
She did not know that il Is q mans
way when he loves one to hiss the other
dumb.
And every day at noon her ''saint'
came for an hour. Every day, in some
small way, Jeanne's small wants grew
smaller. Every day II sat by ~ upon
he low straw pallet and laughed and
Iested until Jeanne grew merry from
'heer contagion.
children Cry for