Weekly expositor. (Brockway Centre, Mich.) 1882-1894, 1893-12-08

you nothing. But some day shall contrlva
to write it, between whites, between para,
graph and paragraph, leader and leader,
and shall get n publisher 10 produce 10,
under a nom dc plume, and the book shall
be the talk Of Paris; and YOU shall read il
with smiles and tears, and you shall say,
20 Castor, what painter, what poet,
what an inspired dreamer this man must
be! l only wish l knew who he is, that j
might worship him." And l shall say,
"Worship me, love. am the poet and til"
dreamer; and you are my only Eyeria.'
He looked like poet as he lay at her
feet on the sun-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 loitered away the long summer AFT
ernoon in serenest cOntcntment, in deep in
eXpressibe bliss. 1t seemed to then DIS il
life were henceforward perfect. They had
nothing left to desre-eXcept, perhaps, on
GastOn's side, fame and wealth, in a 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 i'll. And now she had little money,
put away in secret place, against any sucI
evil hour. Poverty had no fltvOr of bitter.
utSo lOl blllN tANllN FNA4NllHl lldNsllt. ole
rose as gaily as lark; she went about heI
little duties singing for very joyousness.
Her humble fare was sweet aned by her con.
tented spirit. Her humble homo was beau.
tilted by all those little arts which endedI
lowly rooms to the dwcller. And now, 10
begin life anew, On the same third floor, in
the Rue Git le Cnur, with her lover-hus.
band, was like the browning bliss on the
last page of fairy tale.
The streets were very quiet, and had 4
somewhat gloomy look as the wedding.
party drove back tc Git le Cpur; but they
were all too happy, too much engro,sed 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 some
of the public buildings" said Durand, as
they pas,el the Palais de Justice.
Not festival lamp twinkled in the Au.
gust shutdown; not star colOrcd light
sparkled on all the Length the quays; moi,
rocket shot up above The estnuts in the
Gardens of the Tuileries. Paris wore hcI
everyday aspect. However eated the city
had been this morning, she was taking he
triumph soberly tonight.
The little dinner in the Rue CT lie CC1ur
was great success. The feast was held n
Madame Schubert's apartment, and that
kindly matron presided at the banquet.
Never was there merlier meal; voices all
minging now and then in joyous tumult
of speech-yOices low and sweet deep aud
reSOnant-and ripples of happy laughter; q
frequent cmking OF glasses, and anecdotes
and cdlcHbDrs. Gaston's friend the journal
isl turned out wit of the first water; and
the gray-tcarded grave artist proved won.
deriully good company; he was loaded with
anecdotes, like a s.X-chambered revolver,
and before his audience had done laughing
at one story he had begun another, still fun
nier and then another, funnier again, a
perpctual-creScendo OF mirth.
just as a browning feature, with the des-
sert, came a single bottle of champagne,
VIII sc cork exploded with the force Of a
cannon.
''Listen there!' cried the journalist. "How
that thunderS. II is the true Vine of war"
And at this a burst of gaiety. 1t is such a
droll thing, Ia gteITe, when ones own coun-
try is winning.
just one little glass more, 1ne pOlicM-
HClle, my friend" said CASTOR, filling his
fellow-scribblers glass, ito fete our arms"
After the champagne, CASTOR slipped out
quietly, with just whispered explanation
TO his wife. He had to 90 round to the news
paper Office in the Rue st. Andre dies Arts,
to arrange about his descriptive article for
Sunday or, in point Of fact, to write his pa
per on the spot.