Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1893-09-23

No, III swear she is no grisette-nOth
ing Of the Mimi P1nson there, my
friend. l never saw her till tonight
Look yonder, just emerging from tbs
trees; do you see?"
rs it MephistophelesY"
NO, but the spirit Of evil in a
wOman's ~shape-enyy, hatred, revenge,
all ~incarnate in a jealous woman.
Great Heavens, such a face-see, see
His friend looked in the direction
Indicated. Yes; there, creeping from
the covert OF the trees, stealthily. ser
pent-like, stole forth a wOman-young,
handsome, smartly dressed, with a
black silk gown, and a bonnet all roses
and lace-a shopkeeper in holiday at
tire. |he face was dark with hatred
and malice, the eyes were bright with
angry fires. Slowly, stealthily. the
lovers had aken-following as the
shadow follows the sun, as night fol
lows day.
But now the band struck up a quad
rifle composed Of the liyeliest airs from
the Princesse de T~rebizonde, which had
lately enchanted the bouleYards. and
then began those wild choric measures
IN which Partisan youth excels all
other nations, The habitues Of the
s~arden-the clerk and the shopmen
and the cOmcrcial traveller. industrial
and intellectual youth Of eve Y grade
began their diversions, to ne delight
Of the spectators. Legs were flung in
the air, wild leapings End ~conyulsive
evOlutions diversified the humdrum
figures Of the legitimate quadrille; each
dancer tried TO out-HerOd his vis-a.yis.
Now the right had it; anon, by a still
wilder bound, the left triumphed; while
the lOOkers-on laughed and applauded.
But there was no offence in this out
break of muscular activity and high
spirits. Sunday dances at these gar
dens are sacred to the people. There
is very little admixture of the deml
monde on a Sunday evening; the clerk
and the counter jumper, the little in
dustries Of Paris, have the field 10
themselves.
The Journalist and his fair-haired
sweetheart did o reappear In the
quadrIlle. They were sauntcring dde
by side In the shadowy walks hearing
the joyous music vaguely; for the low
est whisper Of a loves voice has more
power on the listing ear of love than
the lOudcst orchestra that ever crashed
and jingled in the music Of Orphee aux
ENTERS Jr the Grande Duchesse.
why should Rose doom us to waltz
pleaded the journalist, bending his
dark ardent eyes on the fair sweet face
beside him. What does poverty mat
ter, If we are true to each other and
10 conquer fortune, rs we are,
Kathleen We can bear a few priya
lions In the present, knowing that Fate
viii bc kinder in the future. I have
won "a shred of reputation already,
though / write for such a WFetchcd rag
Of a paper that ] can earn very little
money; but fame viii come end money
viii follow before we are ten years
older At my age BaIzIC WIS no richer
than l am
Il am not afraid Of poverty, a" answer
ed the girl gently. why should ] fear
what | have known all my life? Rose
and l have always been poor; But we
have always been happy; except once
when She had the fever. An, THAT was
heart breaking, No money to pay a
doctor, no money for wine or fruit or
fuel, no money for The rent, and the
deadly fear of being turned out Of our
lodging while she lay helpless ami I'M
conscious on her bed. No prospect but
the hospital Yes, those dark days.
| almost cuyied the rich"
almost cnyied, my angel? am
made of "a different stuff, and { hate
and cnvey them ut all times. That
gives bitterness to my pen
razor, acidity, all the qualities our Par
love. 1t is my chief stock-in-
trade. | could not live without it,"
All, you feel the sting of poverty
more tnan 1 do because you come Of
a race that was once rich, a family that
,yts once noble
Yes; / come of a decayed ace
worn out, Gillette, passed 10y ia the press
and hurry of a commercial age. That
is why | hate the insoleut roturtcr
brood that have hattened IN the sun
of imperial favor; the stockjob-
beers and gamblers, corrupt 70 the core.
and swelling with pride in their dirty
-eld. My grandfather WAS a gentle
and "a soldier; he fought for his
king tin the last ray of hope had faded.
And when his faithful little band of
Chouans were scattered or slain, and
he had escaped by the skin of his teeth
from being shot down by the Blues,
he shut himself up in the ola stone
Of his chateau, and lived among
peasants, as peasants live, and let his
and daughter run wild My father
was very little in advance of his
fathers farmlaborerS in education or
manners, when he entered the army.
n lad Of fifteen, soon after the restora.
of the Bourbons, But he was one
OF the handsomest men Of his day. He
had good blood i'm his veins; and 1t
seems somehow that rae viii tell. for
twenty years later he was n OF the
finest soldiers i'm the French army. He
married a rich wife, loved her passion
ateIy. spent all he" money, ruined her
life. and died hroken-hearted and a