St. Landry democrat., 1893-04-08
4 REGISTERED LETTER.
(FROM THE FRENCH , J

| "A wiz nlSnC, NlarCalllc, Salu TIT
postmistress to the letter carrier VIII,
had just come in.
"Wild, indeed, Madame Lefevre," re
| piled Marcaille, " twill be bad going t.
the midnight mass"
| AS he spoke, he shook out his ole
cloak all white with snow, while the post
mistress sorted the letters.
"There! that is done,' she said
"But warm yourself before you star
ont"
Marcaille threw down his leather bag
black and shiny in spots, and came close
to the roaring stove.
He was a little, wiry, tough Hooking
man. His face, Drowned by sun and
wind, was as wrinklcd as all old apple.
His nose was q thought too red, his eyes
sparkled, his mouth was smiling; it was
good face that called forth friendly
words and cordial handgrasps. His mus
tache had a military ferocity, and on his
blue blouse with its red collar worn
scrap of yellow and green ribbon told all
his past-drawn in the draft, seven
years of service, re-enlistcd, petty officer,
wounded at Alma, wounded at Solferino,
honorably discharged. Then Marcaille
had been given the place of postman on
the Champaghole route-4O0 francs a
year, pension of 100 francs, making a
total of 500 francs,
And for ten years, for 500 francs, Mar
chile made twice day, morning and
evening, his round-Cize, Philemoinc le
Naudoux, Chatelneuf, Maisonneuve and
Siane, circuit Of seven leagues in all
weathers. With his 500 francs he took
care OF wife and four children; the
eldest was six.
But Marcaille had acquired the bad
habit of a little "taste," as he called it.
In every village he had old acquaintan-
ces, almost friends. In every house he
found, in exchange for the letter he
brought, glass of wine, that seemed to
him to put strength into his heart and his
legs. His nose grew little redder; it
even happened once that he had lost
letter, not a very important one fortu-
nately, but it might have taught him a
lesson.
''Here they are, Marcaille," said Mad
anne Lefevre, 1.-TWO letters for Cize, one
for Pillemoine. one for lie Vaudioux-
nothing for ChAtelneuf."
''That's good,' said Marcaille. That
"nothing for Chatelnauf' spared him a
league and half of rough walking.
''For Siane," went on Madame Lee
fevre; ''pay attention! A registered let
ter"
ut is not the first"
'No. but" and Madame held up
great envelope, bristling with stamps end
notices, beside which spread out, like
blots of blood, five enormous red seals.
That's worth caring for" said Mar
caille, laughing. "Whose is it 2"
''For monsieur, the Mayor"
Well, it will 60 through his hands,
never fear'
4" Not any more than through yours"
said madame.
"No, but more of it will stick to his"
With this philosophic reflection, Mar
caille dropped the letter into his leather
bag, which he buckled carefully. He
put on his cloak and opened the door.
"And above all" cried madame after
him, " don't begin Christmas eve too
soon !"
Don't be afraid" and Marcaille was
in moment out of sight.
The cold pinched sharply; the pierre
ing wind blew up little whirlpools of
fine, dry snow. Marcaille logged along
briskly, muttering:
"Net much Christmas A mouthful
for six and glass of water Bnt, after
all, there are those who have nothing"
Hullo, Marcaille - cried suddenly
rough voice.
Marcaille turned.
"A glass of wine?" said the voice.
'Hum," grumbled Marcaille to him
self, attention, registered letter." Then, |
aloud, 'I'm late now; no, thank your
The window of the "Pineapple' pub
lie house, which had opened, closed
again, and Marcaille, proud of the victory
over himself, went whistling out of the |
village.
This was indeed courage. To refuse
glass of wine in such weather. when
lie had still three good leagues up the
mountain before him. But how light
lie felt when he proudly resumed his
Quincy. He felt light, but his bag
eemed heavier than ever. Never
lad it weighed SO upon his shoulders.
'This rascslly bag" he grumbled.