Waterbury evening Democrat., 1893-07-14
FANCHETTE.

| shoulders, childish form and shy, rosy | face half avoiding, half inviting the gaze this was Fanchette.
 Fanchette Hugot they called her in the village, where old Mother Hugot was well known. But Fanchette shook her head. She was no kith and kin of Mime. Hugot, that she knew. and Jacques knew 1t also-Jacques, with his bonny brown head and bright, bold face and gray attire. which marked him of the better class; Jacques. who loved her better than she loved the turkeys which she tended, and swore that every dark hair of her head under the red turban was precious to him.
 Jacques father called her the little turkey tender and threw her coin from his carriage as he passed. But Fanchette treasured the coins and made herself more beautiful in her lovers eyes with her finery-rihbons that matched the blue of her eyes and roses that rivaled the carmine of her dewy lips. When Jacques took her in his arms and told her that he loved her and let the light of his beautiful eyes shine in hers, she forgot the whole world just for that one moment. She forgot to wonder that God should let his creatures suffer so; that he should distribute blessings so unequally. She forgot that old Mother Hugot was a hard mistress and forgave her the bruises on her poor body and the unkind words she used toward her. She mounted into heaven when Jacques put his arms about her and she could lean her head for a moment on his broad shoulder.
 But these opportunities were seldom granted her for sinking her soul in Lethe. There wess cows to milk, and the pics to feed. and the turkeys to tend, and when she could finally slip away to her lover whistling impatiently round the corner of the lane she had but few moments to spare from her mistress, who was i'm patient the instant the girl was out of her sight.
 They used to watch the moon come up sometimes, round and fiery and glowing in the soft warm sky, and Jacques would claim kiss for every star that appeared in the heavens as they watched. An, Fanchette loved the stars! One shone into her little easement at night, and she always thought of Jacques when she saw it, and his kisses seemed to her again laid on her lips as she fell asleep with her eyes fixed on the distant light.
 Fanchette was very faithful to Mother Hugot, who grumbled at having to keep her and called her shiftless and a good for-nothing. But Fanchette knew from the tiny gold locket around her neck and from the embroidery on bit of a gown Mother Hugot had shown her that she was Jacques equal at least, and she al- ways looked for delivery to come to her in some guise or other. Every morn | ing when she arose she would say, "Per- haps today my deliverer will come" and every night when she went to bed she prayed, God, l thank thee that am vet alive, for 1 know thou wilt send me a great blessing tomorrow"
 So when the fairy godmother finally did arrive Fanchette was the least sur prised of any of the village.
 When Jacques met her that evening in the lane, he laid his head down against her to hide his face, out of which the gay light had faded.
 You are going away" he cried, ''to be great lady. You have title; you will live in a palace. I, poor Jacques, what shall I do? I think death would not be difficult"
 | ''1 shall come back, Jacques, in a year they have promised me that-and then we can be married if you are waiting for me still. Parting is but test of | true love. Don't give your kisses or your love words to other girls to make the time speed faster, my own Jacques. If l feel that you are all my own in deed and in thought, there will be no sting in the sadness of our parting"
 Jacques lifted up his head. The moon came up lightly over the late lime trees and shone upon his boyish face" II promise" he said, solemnly lifting his hand on high. and then he drew her dark head against his shoulder and pressed her lips with his own.
 ''In year from tonight I will meet you here. Oh, Fanchette, my love, my own, you will not fail meg'
 Never, Jacques, if I come to rags. l will keep my word. If I come to a beg gar. still will meet you here"
 Remember our star, Fanchette. Ey- cry night I will look for it, and when you see it's rays you will know your Jacques is dreaming of you and praying for your return
 | When the sun chased the shadows from the earth next morning, Fanchette was many miles away.
 She went to palatial home. She gowned herself in satins and saw her. self bedecked with jewels. She grew more fair than poets dream, and she danced with nobles and was attended
 by aristocratic danes
 She was still Fanchette, and at night she looked at the star she loved and murmured the prayer of her childhood's days. Every heartbeat was for Jacques, | Fine Laundry Work