Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1896-02-24


attempted it, but my hosts made me
understand that if I were caught they
would both be shot with me for trying
to save Frenchman. All! those Cap
uchins were no jokers; and besides
those were not jocular times any
where.
II was therefore obliged to remain
in my obscure hole, and let events
take their course. At the ringing of
the curfew my kind jailer used to visit
me with his amiable daughter, who
had Undertaken to teach me Spanish,
so as to facilitate my flight later on,
she said. In order to avoid the noise
and the light, which might have be-
trayed us, she would dictate to me in
whispers, while [, sitting on the
ground, wrote on my knees by the
light of dark lantern hidden under
her mantilla.''
''But tell me, grandfather" inter-
rupted; "your captivity was not lone
some?''
"Well, at night, no. But what of
the long days when thoughts came of
my comrades and of France! No; you
see, youngster, love comes not in pri-
sons; neither do birds nest in cages.
"It was however, a great diversion
when the monks were at drill.
Through little hole between two
stones in the wall of my cell I could
see the cloister almost at the spot
|
that the sight was worth looking at.
Gin rank, facing front, and forming
a single file, were monks, tall or stout
fat or thin, all armed with grotesque
Weapons-a veritabIe series of Don
| Quixotes and Sancho Panzas. The
sergeant, with his bare feet in slip
pers, wore an enormous shake like
wash tub. And the captain! bal
loon with legs, with his apple green
habit and his column shaped hat, as
proud as Lucifer.
cit was nevertheless, these same
men, ridiculously accoutred like mon
keys, who had ransacked a barrack
and demolished US so effectively. 1t
is true they hit hard; but then, every
one is a good soldier when defending
his own country.
CAT last, one day, our troops having
again invaded the province, they dis
appeared without drums or trumpets,
and [ saw my flag once more.
"Hold! You ought to paint in your
picture that scene of the convent I'M
der arms. I will aid you with my re-
collections to portray the frocklings.
J see them yet as if were there; and
I heard them call out the roll so many
times that even yet I remember near
ly all their names. But, methinlzs, as
as you have just been there, you must
have seen them-Father AnseIm with
his goatee; and Brother Eusebio,
thick set and short, with hands like
the claws of lobster. Look, this is
Eusebio's work" Grandfather, part
ing the silvery locks on his forehead,
showed me a deep scar. On the other
side is that of Father Anselm. They
were the first to strike me, and have
the signatures of the others all round
my head.''
''But, my dear grandfather" said I,
''there have been no monks over
there for long time past.''
"Ah! and the barber?''
tHe is dead; but his daughter is still
living.''
Carmen? Did you see her? A very
beautiful woman, eh?''
"Alas! grandfather"
eyes; that is so. Did she speak of
me?''
"She even gave me something for
Pedro.' I drew from my pocket the
| half handkerchief. Then, going silent
| ly to his chest of drawers, grandfather
drew out the other part, the flowers
of which matched perfectly, only his
half was yet almost new.
"And," I continued, "Pedro had
promised to return-with Napoleon!"
sit is true; but Napoleon willed
otherwise" Then, tying together the
two pieces of silk, grandfather lifted
his eyes to heaven and said, Cup
there!" Grandfather was always so
laconic when affected.-Century Mag
azine.
DIR. Richard Busby, the second CEN
tenary of whose death was celebrated
recently at Westminster School,
where he was head master for fifty
seven years was a disciplinarian of
the old school. When Charles II. Wis
tied the school, DR.. Busby asked the
king to take off his hat, while he kept
on his own, on the ground that disci-
pline could not be maintained if the
BOYS should believe that there was a