The weekly Thibodaux sentinel and journal of the 8th Senatorial District. [volume] (Thibodaux, Lna. [i.e. La.]) 1875-1898, 1896-11-21
A SEPARATION.

The room which I inhabited at that
time IN Via Bagutta was really higher
up than WIS neeaful. 7 told myself so
four times d day when I assembled the
liz steps that separated me from the
level of the throng Oh the street, but
because when one had reached the top
there was to be enjoyed q magnificent
panorama of roofs and chimney tops I
staid there. Besides, i'll the course Of
four months I had made the acauaint-
ance of all my neighbors, and usually
among the neighbors of a bachelor there
is some one that he would be sorry to
miss.
1t was there that / knew the oldest
welded pair that can be imagined. To
say that 81. -lor Sulpioio and Signora
Coneetta were one is not a metaphor,
for bstween them they hardly had as
much flesh and bones as an ordinary
we'll act up individual. But their united
ages were q decade more than a century
and c half. And if Signora Coneetta
had taken the freak to stand upon her
husbands head, she would have bumped
the ceiling. Now the rooms in that
house are 81 meters in height-11 feet
8 inches by the American measure.
Whoever has solved these arithmetical
problems will have before him, / should
think, the precise likeness of these old
persons and sees them, as I do in my
minds eye, long, meager, gaunt, with
white heads, faces scanned by wrinkles,
with sunken, cleaning eyes.
They had shared their joys and sor-
rows, bed and board for GO years and
had gazed into each others eyes until
the two faces had grown alike, and but
for their noses they might have been
supposed to be brother and sister. But
each nose had persisted in remaining
the antithesis Of the other. That Of the
husband was hooked like an eagles beak
and seemed to keep watch upon all that
went into his mouth. Signora Coneet-
ta's nose turned up, as if p~rudently
withdrawing in order not to embarrass
the good mouthfuls. The comparison is
not mine. They invented it themselves
at the wane of the honeymoon in a mo-
ment Of anger owe a dish that tasted Of
smoke. It wa the first cloud in their
azure, an ugly cloud that rose from the
dish to their noses and then passed into
their habits Of feeling. They ended by
believing themselves totally inconapati-
BILE. Coneetta spoke of returning to her
parents, and Sulpioio was willing that
she should do SO, bat as they were on
the wedding journey the matter was de-
ferred. But the fatal word had been
spoken-a separation. The day after
Sulpicio recalled the morning discourse
which his father-in-law had addressed
to hlm-remembered how he had sworn
to make his bride happy. A crowd of
tender memories Of sage reflections i'm
PEELED him to induce Coneetta t foreman
under the conjugal roof.
On her part Coneetta, a judicious
young woman as over was, had called to
mind her mammals counsels, the yes
spoken at the altar, the envy of her
friends who remained spinsters. She
thought Of the grief of her family, the
secret JOY and false pity Of the other
girls, and concluded that on the whole
Sulpiclo was not SO bad and that it was
all the fault Of that unlucky dish. Then
the pair smiled, clasped hands and ex-
changed the kiss Of peace. But there
was a tacit understanding that they
took each other ON trial. That trial,
having weathered a thousand tempests,
had lasted for GO years.
Now and then the neighbors were
startled by a shrill scream. "That is
Coneetta!' they said. And Coneetta it
was. She had a way-when she had
launched at her domestic tyrant all the
charming epithets accumulated in her
verbal researches Of the past GO years
without conquering the forces Of his vo-
cabulary-she had a way, then, Of Civ
ing one final shrek. People ran to the
scene and found that old Sulpicio had
sought safety in flight down the stairs
while Coneetta flung at him from the
landing one last descriptive adjective.
The first cares to the injured were
layished on Coneetta, and we had
learned that these must consist in let
ting her talk until her wrath had evap-
GRATED. Woe to any who should pity her
Of tell her that her husband was not the
right sort, for when her anger seemed
spent it would blaze up like a lucifer
match, to protest that she had wished to
marry him and would keep to him, that
what her Sulpicio was nobody could
know but herself, nobody need teach
her to read in his heart, she knew all
about him. these many years, and he
was worth all the rest Of mankind put
together. When the storm was over and
the landing deserted, she would peer out
from her room, look about her, her
head shaking under It's big black silk