The Goodland republic. [volume] (Goodland, Kan.) 1891-1907, 1892-06-24

you nothing. But some day l shall contTiVe
to write 1t, between whites, between para,
graph and paragraph, leader and leader,
and shall get publisher TO produce 1t
under nom de plume and the book shall
be TIE talk OF Paris; and you shall read u
with smiles and tears, and you shall say,
70 CASTOR, what painter, what . poet,
what an inspired dreamer this man must
bel ! only wish knew who he Is, that
might worship him." And l shall say,
worship me, love. am tile poet and the
dreamer; and you are my only Egeria."
He looked like poet, as he lay at heI
feet on the snn-burnt sward, his eyes gazing
dreamily over the city in the valley-dreami.
ly away towards Mount Valerian and the
Notifications on the other side Of Paris.
They lOltered away the long summer aft
ernOOn In serenest contentment in deep in
expressible bliss. 1t seemed to them as II
life were hencefOrward perfect. They had
nothing left to desire-except, perhaps, on
Gaston's side, fame and wealth, In remote
dream-like future. Kathleen had no desire
to be rich. Poverty had never hurt her; ex'
cept in that one sad time, when her sister
was Ill. And now she had little money,
put away in secret place, against any such
evil hour. Poverty had no favor Of bitter
ness for this easily satisfied nature. She
rose as gaily as lark; she went about heI
little duties singing for very joyousness.
Her humble fare was sweetened by her room
tented spirit. Her humble home was beau.
tilted by all those little arts which endeaI
lowly rooms to the dweller. And now, to
begin life anew, on the same third floor, in
the Rue Git lie Ceur, with her lover-hus.
band, was like the browning bliss on tho
last page Of fairy tale.
The streets were very quiet, and had
somewhat gloomy look as the wedding
party drove back to Git le C9ur; but they
were all too happy, too much engrOssed by
their own bliss, to remark the change that
had come over the aspect of the city. NJ
more flags, no more cheering, no more song
of triumph.
II wonder they did not illuminate soma
Of the public buildings" said Durand, as
they passed the Palais de Justice.
Not festival lamp twlnkled in the Au
gust shutdown; not star colored light
sparkled on all the length the quays; mol
rocket shot up above the estnuts In the
Gardens of the Tuilerles. Paris wore heI
everyday aspect. However elated the cit!
had been this morning, she was taking he
triumph soberly tonight.
The little dinner In the Rue Git le CWu
was great success. The feast was held in
Madame SchuberPs apartment, and that
kindly matron presided at the banquet.
Never was there merrier meal; voices all
mingling now and then in joyous tumult
of speech--vOices low and sweet deep and
resonant-and rlpples of happy laughter; o
frequent blinking of glasses, and anecdotes
and CGlenbOrS. GastOn's friend the Journal
list turned out wit of the first water; and
the gray-bearded grave artist proved won
derfully good company; he was loaded With
anecdotes, like siX-chambered revolver,
and before his audience had done laughing
at one story he had begun another, still fun.
nier, and then another, funner again, o
perpetual-crescendo OF mirth.
just as browning feature, with the des.
sert came single bottle of champagne,
whose cork exploded with the force of o
cannon.
"Listen there" cried the journalist. How
that thunders! 1t Is the true wine Of war;"
And at this burst of gaiety. 1t is such o
droll thing, Ia gltelTe, when ones own coun'
try is winning.
"Just one little glass more, tne poItcht-
nellie, my friend" said CASTOR, filling his
fellow-scribbler's glass, ITO fete our arms"
After the champagne, CASTOR slipped out
quietly with just whispered explanation
to his wife. He had to go round to the news
paper office, in the Rue st. Andre des Arts,
to arrange about his descriptive article for
Sunday or, in point Of fact, to write his pa
per on the spot.