Middlebury register. (Middlebury, Vt.) 1886-1937, 1893-09-29
MEDALLION'S WISH.

MEDAIlI1ON , WISH.
Medallion, the auctioneer, had busy
brain and a fine sense of humor OF the af-
fairs of the world he knew very much more
than the cure, the avocat and the little
chemist; of the affairs of Pontiac he knew
as much as the cure, which was evidence of
a keen social activity. Tall, red haired, boy
ish, with bright brown eyes and an uncom-
promising angularity of face and form, he
had nothing of the personality of a father
confessor yet as many confessed to him as
the cure-in different manner. He turned
most things into IA jest, and yet his jests
We're never offensive nor so crude as to lose
their piuuancy. Men smiled women sim
pered when he came into their presence,
and unlucky was that person who CHANGED
to be at an auction sale where he presided
with pocketful of money and taste for a
joke-he invariably bid high and often
When the avocat began to lose his health
and spirits and there crept through his
shrewd gravity and kindness petulance
and detection, Medallion was the only per-
son who had an nspiriting effect upon him.
The cure and the little chemist tended to
deepen his melancholy. The avocat was
not good churchman, and the cure was
too old friend and sensible man to press
spiritual consultations upon him, and he and
the little chemist decided that the change
in him was due to bad circulation and fail
ing powers, which was only partially true
Medallion made a deeper guess. want
to know what's the matter with him?" he
said. Hal I'll tell you. Woman"
"Womanl God bless mel' said the little
chemist in frightened way
Woman, little man. | mean the want
of woman said Medallion.
The cure shrugged his shoulders gently
and incredulously. HE has an excellent
cook, and his bed and jackets are well
aired. | see them constantly at the win
dows."
A laugh gurgled in Medallion's throat.
He loved these innocent folk. But himself
went twice a year to Quebec city and had
more expanded views.
Women, padre"-nodding to the priest
and rubbing his chin so that it rasped like
sand paper - woman, my druggist" -
throwing a sly look at the chemist-'wom-
81, neither rs cool; Tor bottle washer, is
what he needs Every man-out of holy
ordc~ ne said this in Difference to his
good friend the cure-'ariives Il the time
when lis youth mus. be renewed, or he Ye-
comes rs dry bones-like an empty house
furniture sold off. Can only be renewed
one way-woman. Well, here's our avoclt,
and there's his remedy. He's got the COOK
ing and the clean, fresh linen, he must have
a wife, the very best"
"Ah, Medallion, my friend, you are
droll," said the cure arching his long fin
gers at his lips and blowing gently through
them, but not smiling in the least; rather
serious, almost reproving.
at is such a w.m. II whim joli!' said
the little chemist, shaking his head AID
looking through his glasses sidewise, ike II
wise Dlrd
"Ha You shall see. The man must b.
saved. Our cure shall have his fees Our
druggist shall provide the finest essences
for the feast-no mere pills. And we shall
dine with our avocat once a week-with
asparagus in season for the cure and a lit
tie good wine for all. Ha!'
! His hal was never Il laugh 1t was an
ejaculation of satisfaction, knowledge, solid
enjoyment, final solution, unctuous, alb
rupt.
The cure shook his head doubtfully. He
did not see the need. He did not believe in
Medallion's whim. Still he knew that the
mans judgment was shrewd in most things,
and he would be silent and wait. But he
alter the conditions of that old companion
ship, which included themselves, the avo-
cat and the young doctor who, like the lit
tie chemist, was married.
The chemist sharply said: "Well well,
perhaps, | hope. There is poetry (his
English was not perfect, and at times he
mixed it with French in an amusing man
nerJ, little chanson, which runs:
"SOrrOWful il the LITTLE house
The little house by the winding stream;
All the laughter has died away
Out of the little house.
But down there come from the lofty hills
Footsteps, and eyes agleam
Bring the laughter of yesterday
Into the little house
By the winding stream and hills.
D ron, di ron, di ron, di ron-don!"
The little chemist blushed family at the
silence that followed his timid, quaint re-
cital. The cure looked calm and kind and
drawn away as if In thought, but Medallion
presently got up, stopped and laid his long
fingers on the shoulder of the apothecary
Exactly, little man." he said, we've
Doth got the same idea in our heads. I've
put it hard fact, you've put it soft senti-
ment, and it's Gods truth either way"
Presently the cure asked, as if from a
great distance, so meditative was his voice.
WHO will be the woman, Medallion?"
'l've got one in my eye-the very right
Gne for our avocat: not here. not out of
Pontiac, but from st. Jean in the hills
fulfilling your verses gentle apothecary.
She must bring what is fresh-he must feel
that the hills have come to him, she that
the valleys hers for the first time. A new
world for them both. Hap'
mon Dieul you are great man." said
the chemist
There was strange, inscrutable look in
the kind priests eyes. The avocat had con
: fessed to him IT, his time.
Medallion took up his hat
"Where are you going?' said the chemist
ITO our avocat, and then to ST. Jean"
He opened the door and vanished. The
two that were left shook their heads and
wondered
Chuekling softly to himself Medallion
strobe away through the lane Of white