Marble Hill press. (Marbel [sic] Hill, Mo.) 1881-1923, 1896-03-19

SF0uuuOluST Sake. NOW llSlGu, uOu-
slcur. Little Annette, across the street,
you love he+; have seen so. She has a
heart as sweet as a nut and as bonny
a face as ever the sunshine kissed. If
l put these robes upon her she will
look like a grand dame fit for mon
sieur's brush. She will be fresh like
the rose and as beautiful. She shall
be monsfeur's model and 1 will make
his fortune"
That night when the sausage vender
took his stand Annette, free at last,
slipped across the road, and the old
madame robed the girl in the ball
gown and fastened her soft fluffy curls
in knot high on her head with quaint
tortoise-shell comb. Wrapped in cloaks,
the two stole down the street and en-
tered the tall building. They threaded
their way among the dusty bags, scar
tag the silvery-coated mice, and
climbed the stairs to the artists studio.
When his eyes fell upon the vison
OF loneliness madame presented to hin
they shone with a new light. Love?
Well, part love and part artistic rap
ture, but in either case Annette was the
cause. The little Frenchwoman clapped
her hands and laughed joyfully.
Did not tell monsieur he should
see? Have l not fetched him worthy
model?"
Always during the sittings madame
sat decorously by, knitting industri-
ously, but keeping sharp eye out,
as became chaperon. Not the slight
est symptom Of love-making escaped
her. The portrait grew beneath the
brush as if the very fairy of good luck
had lent her spell to the artist. Never
had his palette glowed with such colors
nCr had such hitherto impossible tints
blossomed forth. Every detail of the
fresh, young face became familiar to
him, until at last from the canvas look
ed forth the sausage vendors daughter
in the grand danes robes, as beautiful
as the proudest lady in the land.
Il can dc no more" sighed the artist.
Then madame arose, and, taking the
girl by the hand, led her toward the
door.
"Monsieur has no longer need OF u.s."
she said "Adieu."
But the artist would not have it so.
He pushed past the old Frenchwoman
ard stood before the girl.
Il love you, Annette" he cried, will
you not marry me-"
Tut, tut" said madame You must
speak first to NJ. Laubeau. We will
have no bold American manners here.
If he consents, then Annette may think
Of you. Come, Annette"
1t was indeed true that madame had
brought good luck to the poor artist.
The portrait was sent to a picture deal
er. In less than week it was sold, and
orders had come through the dealer,
enough to set the artist busy. He went
to thank the old Frenchwoman.
''The good people like something
fresh" said madame. Monsieur might
have sat in his garnet and pinned and
been melancholy till he died. Good
luck would have none of him. One
must be brave and smile to win for
tune"
Il owe everything to- you," said the
grateful young man.
"Ah, true" returned madame, non
chalantly, 'but tell me, have you yet
won M. Laubeaus corsent?"
ALAS! He refuses me Annettes
hand. He will give no reason"
I'VE must learn" said madame.
Leaning far out Of the window of her
tiny shop, she beckoned frantically to
the sausage vender across the road.
He came, followed by Annette.
"Why it is M. Laubeau refuses his
daughter to the young monsieur who
loves her truly?" asked the French
woman.
Il could not get on without Annette"
grumbled the. old man; there would
be none to cry hot sausages."
True, true said madame, "but must
the young people be unhappy for this?"
Il am old" continued the sausage
vepder, "and I have but Annette. III
yield her to the young monsieur who
will care for me?"
Let me think" said madame. "Ah,
I have it! 1t is said only the yc.lng
should wed, but l. say it is we'll to be
comfortable in ones old days, and
companion is needful. If M. Laubeau
wishes 1t will reconsider the proposal
made to me years ago; he shall fetch
the SAUSAGE and stand acrnss tho road