Santa Fe daily New Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1885-1897, 1894-08-28
ANNETTE.

Of the street, such a tiny shop, with
only one window to it and bit of a
counter piled high with punches Of gay
yarn and boxes Of cheap tinsels. There
was bird in cage in madame's win
dow. He always sang furiously in the
early morning, and a pot Of mignonette
in blossom adorned the sill.
Just across the road lived the sausage
vender, a little old man, who wore q
wig and dressed in snuff color.
He was early at his post every morn
ing frying sausages, but being cruelty
afflicted with asthma he could only
speak in a loud, hoarse voice, SO his
daughter, Annette, very dream Of
health and beauty, would stand beside
him in her neat stuff gown and call in
a voice as lusty as chanticleer:
Hot sausagesl Hot sausagesP'
Now, diagonally across on the next
street was a tall brick building used as q
storehouse. Its lower rooms were piled
with dusty white bags full Of grain,
over which the satin coated mice frol-
licked and grew fat the livelong day, but
up in the peak Of the building was q
large garnet, rented to poverty stricken
artist.
Here were pictures strewn all about
the room, while in the middle Of the
room stood stout easel supporting a
bare canvas. Every morning the artist
crept down from his lofty quarters to
buy hot sausages Of M. Daubeau and p
cast sly glances Of intense regard at An
nette, who, for her part, kept on at her
calling as if there were no young men
in the world.
But when he turned to go back to his
garnet then would Annette smile and
toss her head, with it's white cap, in a
coquettish nod to the little madame
across the road, saying as much, "See,
T have an admirerp' And madame
would smile back, for she dearly loved a
romance. Sometimes she would beckon
to Annette, and when the girl ran light
" across the street the old woman
would say:
"When shall the wedding be?'
"Ughp' Annette would answer.
"Could eat paint? I thrive now and
am comfortable. Monsieur must make
his fortune ere Annette weds him."
"And he shall do it," returned the
little madame. IT will myself speak to
monsieur.
That very day when the artist passed
her shop with a canvas well wrapped in
paper under his arm the little French
woman called to him. Come in, :" she
said. "Show me the picture"
Reluctantly he undid it and disclosed
a pensive faced Madonna
''Fi done, monsieur!' exclaimed ma
dame. "But she has sickly look. I do
not wonder you may not sell her. We
have enough like her. Monsieur must
paint Notwithstanding gay and
cheerful-fresh, you KNOW
II am too poor to hire model, said
the artist gloomily.
"Ah, truly" replied madame, "but
suppose could find a model. Would
monsieur paint?"
Perhaps"
She led the way through the tiny
shop to timer living room. There,
in one corner, looking very big and
clumsy, stood an oaken chest, with the
lilies Of France carved upon it. The
old woman unfastened key from he1
chatelaine and knelt before the chest.
She paused.
Monsieur must know" she said
gravely, "long way back in France my
people were not poor, but rich. That
was before the revolution, monsieur, be.
fore their names were knitted into the
cruel madame's stocking. They fell.
We have always been poor enough since.
&c coffre contains my great-grandmeer'
ball gown. Monsieur shall see.
She unlocked the chest, and lifting a
covering Of tissue paper shook out a
rich white satin gown heavily embroid.
cred with pale blue forgetmenots. The
stomacher was thickly sewed with seed
pearls, and wide rufles Of rare old lace
edged the neck.
The artist gave cry Of admiration;
IA costume Of the time Of Louis XVI
How exquisiteP'
"Here are her slippers, continued
madame, holding up pair Of white
satin slippers adorned with furnished
gold buckles, land these are the gloves
she wore. To think I have them yet,
monsieur, and my great grandmere dust
these 100 yearsl We might have sold
her toilet over and over again when
we were hungry and cold, but we al.
ways preferred to suffer for my grand.
mere's sake. Listen, monsieur. Petite
Annette, across the street, you love her.
I have seen 80. She has heart On sweet
as q nut and as bonny. a face as ever the