The Dupuyer acantha. [volume] (Dupuyer, Mont.) 1894-1904, 1896-11-02

borhood of the mill a place to be
Stunned after dark, unless one had no
fear in his heart. If by any tinfortu-
nate concurrence of sorceries a person
should chance to meet n freely while
passing the mill, no pluiging of steel
Into wood might save him from the
evil spirits. Even to bless himself and
utter pious invocation, perhaps, might
not avail!
SIN the midst of Zephrin't ill-repute
a singular thing occurred. He was
known to have fallen into conversation
with a customer. 1t was this way:
Colette Dion came often to the mill
with the grist of her mother-a poor
widow with thirteen children, of whom
Colette was the eldest. One day when
she came down along the dandelion-
dotted pathway leading to the mill,
with her mothers grist in n bag upon
her head, Zephrin watched her with
much interest. If common report may
be believed, she was certainly, in those
days; a picture not to be blinked cas-
ually. She had the figure of a nymph
and q face, for all it vas
place at points, something unusually
fine for d villager. But the step, he
carriage; it remains to this day, as we
have seen, monsieur, dignified, distin-
guished, majestic! At first glance, it
is said, there was some remarkable re-
semblance between Colotte and Ieph-
rin-and who can tell? 1t may have
been some vague suggestion of con-
geniality-some thin ray, as from one
distant planet to another which i'll
spired the miller's interest.
when, at length, she arrived at the
door of the mill and deposited her bur
den beside it, said he:
"'You have a meaning step, p'tite,
and a pretty one
"'True2' questioned Colette, with
something finely s%cornful On her elo-
quent lips. She was piqued, let us be
lieve, since he had not noticed her
pretty face; for, though a woman may
be conscious of her Subtlest grace and
charm, homage to the features is the
thing-the real joy. Isn't it so, Bra
bon? Well said the miller, Il doubt
not there Is more in your mind thar
the mere grinding of yonder grist, ell?
"'It is my mind nOW,' said she. i
was my step lately!
"'It is the mind which regulates thu
step, p'tite. l always watch the steI
when | would know the mind he re
sponded.
"Now, there is much in these frag
mentS which reveal the clearnesS o
Zephrin's mind at that period and als'
the real character of the man II tn
bent of his spirit. You see, it was tn
gesture, the carriage, the aspect, tina
interested him most. Why? We shal
see. Though Colette, 1t may be pre-
sumed, did not realize the true signif
canoe of his words, she rememebere'
them-every one-and repeated them t
her mother, who in turn told ever!
thing to the cure, Langlois, froI
whom l have the story. The girl COZ
fessed to her mother that she wa
much surprised regarding the il
. reputed miller. Monsieur Moisson-
Zephrin,' she declared was not at all
=, weird man, but on the contrary, yer
, sensible and g~ood-natured. Yet he
. mother warned her she must be war!
r such fine qualities oftentimes screene
the worst souls. Colette, howeve
maintained stolidly not a word of til
village gossip was true. Indeed sal
she, they say almost as naught
=, things of me because they think | a
:. proud. And you know, mamma, a,
= not proud nor wicked SO every tin
. Colette fetched the grist to the M
v she returned radiant and full of prai'
of the miller. At length one day !
said to her, so she reported:
+ "'Colette, l am going to ask yt
y something
u eff it is one thing I know what II
!, answer will be- she responded wi
II much piQuancy.
"'Well, if l should ask you to mar.
y me|'
l. ""Then 1 should answer "No!'
"'Why?' says the miller, his hea
II sinking to his boots, no doubt, but II
i ing again very quickly when he cate
IL es the twinkle of mischief in her eye
y "'Because a common miller cOu
$ never win my heart says she coqut
le tishly, yet with something truly Oh
D. matte in her pose. That is only for
- great man.
J. ga seigneur?' ventured the miller
IL "'Higher.'
"a GOVERNOR
"'Nay, higher
le ".A prince?'
e. "'Even higher
"a kingY '1 j.
eyes, a king Then, after a pref
n pause: And that is thou, my de
D. king of the mill!"
"Now he draws her hands across t
he door of the mill and kisses her Il
lg head that is fallen against his breaS
and thai is all. Let us suppose tn
=, simply looked out in a day-drea
If across the little River of Angels,
I'd the pleasant daisied meadows a
ad green fields about here.