Daily tobacco leaf-chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1890-1895, 1892-04-18
thought might be utilized by building

and on. | don't know whether | men
toned that The D'Arblays hada child,
a son about grown, a brave, handsome,
generous, manly fellow, who was the
very idol of their souls. II never
had child,p said the colonel slowly,
"but | think | could not have loved
one better than ] did Jules"
He lit cigarette and there was a
long pause before he went on. "Well,
D'Arblay built the mill-dam and a
flood washed it away, and then he be,
gan rebuilding it, and nothing would
do but Jules must go and superintend
the finishing, while he came home on
visit. l demonstrated in vain.
Pooh y he said. why, colonel, you
grow nervous as a woman-even his
mother does not object So Jules
went, waving his hand to us from the
bow of the boat; SO young, so gay, so
handsome, and debonair, he might
have been the spirit and incarnation
ofyOung hope. He went away and his
father busted himself in breaking a
pair of thoroughbred colts tor him.
1t was to be surprise, little gift
when he returned.
"When he returned He had been
gone but week when message came
to me, briefand sharp. Jules is drown
ed. Tell his father Atterward we
heard how he and some young COM
panions were diving from the dam
into the mill-pond, and just rs he
went down his head struck some of
the masonry, and then he tioated to
the surface, still, white, staring face
upturned on the quiet water.
"My boy, God save you from having
to take such news as that to any
mother. | never knew low | told
Madame d'Ayblay-brutally enough,
| dare say-hut perhaps there is no
gentle way to break q tender heart;
and then went out to find the faith
er. ! met him driving the colts he
was breaking for Jules, and he pulled
up at the side Of the road.
-"'Get in he said. Aud l mechan-
ically climbed into the breaking-car
beside him. He was jubilant, eXult-
ant.
"'The colts will delight Jules he
cried. Look, did you ever see such
movement, such style? Bee how that
FLY holds her head! Pve been speed
ing them, and they will work together
inside of three minutes. Gently, gem
tly, there, my beauty Then he
looked at me. why, Pierrepont, you
look like you had lost your last friend,
Got bad news, eh p
Eyes, | said, bad news
"'Well, what is it?' he asked, gay
ly, IF the mills burned down don't
be afraid to tell nae. I've been look
ing for it,
H'Tt is worse than that ] cried in
desperation.
con- he laughed, i see in your
face that the mill-dam has gone again,
but | tell you that water-power will
pay for rebuilding it twenty times,
and he laughed again, my God ! for
the last time, for then | had to tell
him his boy was dead. He did not
say word, he only slipped down into
the foot of the cart, aud when | drove
the colts into the stable | lifted him
out, q poor, decrepit old man. He
never held up his head again or mani
tested the slightest interest in any
thing,
"That evening l was on my way to
Jules, and when | arrived there /
found that the message regarding his
death had been sent as soon as he was
taken from the water, but after lying
in what seemed his last sleep he had
suddenly manifested signs of life. l
sent for physicians, and we nursed the
poor lad for weary weeks, but
when at last his bodily strength
came back it was something
Infinitely worse than death, for
he was a raving madman. That blow
on the head had stilled some myste-
rious brain function, and our boy was,
they told us, hopelessly insane.
at was not long before DArblay
died, and Madame d'Arblay came
back to New Orleans to live. | put
Jules in one of those private asylums
-one of those ghastly retreats where
the misery of 50 many homes finds
refuge, and so many darkened lives
beat themselves out behind bOlted
doors and barred windows"
The colonel poured himself out q
glass of absinthe with a hand that
shook, and drank it down before he
continued.
81 saw naturally, n great deal OF
Madame d'Arblay. From having
been a gay woman of society in the
| days when these houses were in the
! fashionable streets, and before the
! Americans had captured the town and
moved the altars of fashion up on ST
Charles, she became what you see her
to-day-a woman prematurely aged
and saddened, but spiritualized by
q great sorrow. She never complain.
ed, never repined, never more went
into the great, gay world but where
grief darkeuei home, or death was
there came Madame d'Arblay. MY
ties are all with the dead she woulC
say and once, when we met by the
bedside of friends dead babe, she
took the little thing up in her arms.
"'Ah, colonel she said, she is 8
happy mother who sees her child like
this, rather than like my poor boy
that is living DEATH Then sh,
added, softly: But l am happier
i | have laid it at the feet of the Hol,
Mother of Sorrows, and surely sht
who knew what it was to bear and low
child will have mercy upon me, ant
somehow, sometime, ! shall have III,
, boy again-as he was.
"Three or four times year / wen
; to the asylum where Jules was con
. fined to see him. On one of thes
NlSlJS lOuuu young surgeon Da'
been added to the personnel of the es
tablishment, and that he had evincet
r much interest in Jules case. He wa
clever, studious young fellow, with
pale, ascetic face, like a medava
monk, and a passion for his profes
sion. cannot tell you what tech
2 nicalities he used in speaking of Jules
: case, but he lad examined him YER
: carefully, and he believed my poo
' boys insanity was used by a portion