The Caldwell tribune. [volume] (Caldwell, Idaho Territory [Idaho]) 1883-1928, 1893-12-30

looking beggar with long white hair.
We bound him hand and foot and pro-
ceeded to question him. He would not
answer word.
Then Sorieul, full of dignitird drunken
ness. said, I'VE must try tia, man, and
pass sentence upon him" was 20
drunk the proposition seemed perfectly
natural to me. LIE Poittevin was charged
with the defense, and to sustain the
accusation. He was condemned to death;
only one dissenting voice, that of his de-
fender. We were going to execute the
sentence, when q serious scruple came to
Sorieul. He said: This man ought not
TO die without the consolation OF religion.
Some one must go for a priest"
objected-said it was too late. Then
Sorieul proposed that should fill that
Office, and l exhorted the criminal to
unburden his sins into my bosom.
The poor old wretch had been rolling
his frightened eyes for about i've min
utes. no doubt wondering what kind Of
madmen he had fallen into the hands OF.
You will laugh when tell you Sorieul
forced him down upon his knees. saying,
Confess to this gentleman. for thy last
hour has GOMEZ"
Horribly frightened. the old scoundrel
began to cry Help! help!" with such
strength and vigor we were forced to
gag him for fear he would arouse the
neighbors. Then he rolled over the
floor. turning. twisting. upsetting the
easels. pictures, canvases. until Sorieui
got out of patience and angrily ex-
claimed. Come, let us finish him.
with that he put his pistol to the head
of the miserable wretch and pulled the
trigger.
Carried away by his example. fired
in my turn. My musket was an old
Aintlock. and sent forth tiny spark.
to my great surprise.
Then LIE Poittevin said in grave tones.
Have we the right to kill this mann
Sorieul in great establishment cried
out, Certainly, when we have con
demned him to deathr'
But" continued LIE Poittevin. "they
don't shoot civilians. They are always
hanged. We must take this one to the
police station"
This argument appeared conclusive.
We picked up the old fellow-he
would not walk step-bound him &C.
curely to plank taken from the model
table. and carried him. LIE Poittevin at
the head. at the foot while Sorieul.
armed to the teeth. closed the line Of
march.
When we reached the station house.
the sentinel arrested US. The chief OF
police was sent for He knew us we'll.
nearly every day witnessing some Of our
jokes. pranks and unheard Of capers.
He refused to receive our prisoner.
! Sorleul insisted: then the officer severe
no more noise.
The troop again took up the line Of
march and returned to the atelier.
what are we going to do with this
old robber?' asked
LIE Poittevin, touched with tender
pity, declared he looked terribly ex.
hausted. Truly the old fellow had a
agonizing appearance. gagged. tied hand
and foot and securely bound to hil
plank.
was taken in my turn with violen,
pity. took of his gag and said, well
my poor old man. how do you feel nowy
He groaned, I'm the name of God. I've
had enough!"
Then Sorieul became affectionately pa
ternal He united him. placed him il
an armchair. fondled him. called hin
.thee" and thou" And to comfor
him we all three ran of to make him !,
fresh punch. The old scamp, tranquil,
seated in his armchair. coolly regard
ed US.
When the punch was ready we touches
glasses with him. wishing him long lif
and prosperity"
Our prisoner drank as much as q regi
ment, and when daylight appeared b
got up and said. Il am sorry to leav
you, gentlemen. but must co."
We were desolate, heartbrokeu
begged him to stay. but he would re
main no longer. Then we followed hin
to the door. shook hands with him
Sorieul lighted him through the vesti
bule and called out: Take care, NJ
old friend, there's q bad step there
Don't fally'
A hearty laugh followed this ridicu
lous story of the old artist, who got uv
lighted his pipe and standing in from
of us added:
1.-THE drollest part Of my story, ger
tlemen, is this: Every word Of it
truel"-Translated from the French Q
Guy dc Maupassant by NJ. E. b. for Re
nance.