The Olneyville tribune. (Providence, R.I.) 1893-189?, 1894-05-12
One morning as Marthe came in


from the yard where the sweet spring
air had awakened the clucking Of the
young chickens, lie pere Bernard
came to meet her with an express
sion on his face that was half laugh
ing, half angry. He held in his hand
three letters that the postman had
just left.
Here, read these, filette," he said
to Marthe, who, when she had
opened all three, stood there with IA
look Of great surprise, mingled with
little annoyance on her pretty face.
The first letter said:
MONSIEUR BERNARD Il love Mile. Mar
the, and have the honor TO ask Of you
her hand | shall come for your answer
this very night at o'clock"
The second ran:
"MoNsIEUR. THE MILLER: | adore your
daughter and burn 10 be her husband.
Tonight at $3.50 o'clock ! shall have the
pleasure OF asking you for your consent" "
And the third was as follows:
THE undersigned, madly in love with
Mile. Bernard, begs respectfully TO inform
her father OF the fact. Tonight at the
learn whether he may be agreeable az her
fiance."
The first letter was signed by Jean,
the second by Martin and the third
by Jacques, with the surname follow
ing: the surnames, il you please, OF
three OF the best and wealthiest
families OF the neighborhood.
That's what / call joke in bad
taste" said Marthe, struggling her
shoulders and casting reassuring
glance toward poor Thomas, who was
white as sheet and trembling like "a
leaf.
III 1t is n Joke" growled Bernard,
the first OF these brave fellows that
comes will get reception calculated
to prevent the other two from follow
ing his example"
Talking TO himself in the manner
Of all peasants who are absorbed with
a single idea, he grasped Thomas by
the hand and led him away, You
may be sure OF that Thomas, heinz
Thomas would infinitely have
rather remained there by the side Of
his cousin who seemed to him more
charming now than ever.
And now ] imagine you would not
be sorry to learn the triple solution
OF the epistolary puzzle.
Know then that Jean Monnoreaux,
Martin Bondois and jacques Moulinot
were three good friends, who, in the
course Of conversation one night,
learned that they one and all found
the daughter OF the miller very much
to their taste.
All three loved with honest pur-
pose, and all three were able by kind
ness of fortune to aspire to the hand
OF the Miller's daughter. The knowl-
edge OF this had allowed to grow up
between the three OF them IA certain
sense OF awkwardness. They found
themselves noting the smallest ad-
vances OF each other, laying little
plots and pitfalls in each others way
and spying upon one another in the
most wretched manner.
Jacques, whose heart was OF gold,
felt the position OF affairs very keenly
and II was he who, weary with it all,
brought about the reconciliation OF
the three friends.
1--WE shall end by quarrelling alto
gether and separating" he said to
them, "and after being like brothers
ever since childhood, that would be II
great misfortune. Why should not
ench OF us write to NJ. Bernard to let
him know OF our wishesp Why not
each OF us go, with short intervals
between our calls, for his answer?
All the better for him whom Mile.
Marthe chooses. Let us swear to bear
him no i'll will, and to be friends, as
we always used to be.
Martin went to get three sheets Of
paper, and you now know the Sc
cret OF the three letters received by
the miller.
Jean was the first to face the fire.
The three friends had cast lots and
Jean was the fortunate one to act as
leader, il not as victim. For it was
evident that If the miller took the
thing seriously, the first arrival
WOulu uuNC w bNtl tiiN NNikhN Vi
his bad humor, and the miller was
well known to have IA swift and heavy
fist.
Itwas night without moon. The
air was moist and redolent OF haw-
thorn trees. A few stars, like flowers
in the gardens OF the sky, threw fit
full and uncertain light upon the
sleeping earth.
Jean did not feel particularly brave.
The creaking of the planks as he
crossed the bridge seemed to him all
the more sinister that the deep shad-
ows OF the poplars engulfed the
stream beneath him in degree OF
darkness that even concealed the
fringe Of white, dancing foam along its
rocky banks.
When he had crossed the. bridge he
sat down for n moment on low
bowlder, overgrown with moss, to
mop his forehead.
The moments rest seemed TO in