The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1897-04-14
He bowed himself out, leaving a ten

heard him stumbling downstairs will
many an imprecation concerning the
darkness and steepness of the stairway
Claude called the landlady's daughter
and soon there was set before him ar
appetizing meal, such as he had no
tasted for months, and bottle of wine
He also INDUCED in the extravaganza
of another candle. He felt rich, in
deed. Ten franc dayl Enough tC
keep the wolf away. Enough to keer
body and soul together. Enough &C
that he would eat three times day, in
stead of once in three days. His spirits
rose as the nourishing dishes dsap.
peared, and he quaffed the wine with
rare pleasure, a flush appearing upon
his pale cheek. He lifted his glass.
"To you, fair unknown, l pledge
this toast" he said. "May your 70.
mantle fancies long endure, 80 long as
they give employment to poor poet.
/ wonder what you are like, fair one,
whom / must apostrophise. Probably
an indifferent-looking girl whose dot
is much desired by my practical en-
ployer. But must place some ideal in
my head to whom / will speak in verse;
lie llghted cigar.
"Julie," he repeated, softly. "How
her face comes back The little count
essl Happy daysl Yes; it is to her,
my love, my lost love, l will speak.
Oh, Time, what revengeful old fell
low thou artl Who could have i'm
agined bankruptcy would have ruined a
noble house and that l, who had plenty
in the heyday of life, am now scurvey
scribbler in an attic chamber, address
ing madrigals to another's charmer at
30 many sous per rhyme? Yes; be-
yawning chasm, but l, standing on the
brink, may look across and see my old
love, who has forgotten, who remem-
bers no more the happy days of child
hood.
"Now away with such fanciesl Let
the poet assert himself; not the lover
Yet to this ideal must ever appeal"
His pen sputtered and the words ran
trippingly across the paper. He gazed
thoughtfully at the wall where the
plastering had fallen, and again the pen
tripped across the paper, back again
and then across once more. He eyed
the broken window pane with towel
picturesquely thrust into the aperture,
and the pen fairly flew merrily to and
fro. He glanced at the place in the
ceiling where the rain had dried
through, and then he gayly punctuated
the verses. He read them over, and
something like a tear appeared in his
eye. He passed his hand across his
brow. "This is melancholy work,
playing with the shadows of the past"
he said, as he blew out his candle and
went to bed.
The next morning his visitor reap
peared and Claude handed him the
poem. He read it carefully.
"Very good" he said, cit must be
good; l don't understand it. That last
turn is especially fine. To-day will be
a day of surprises for her. will send
it with flowers by my servant. Good
day. Remember tomorrow morning
at ten o'clock / will call for the goods
mean the poem, and expect to find it
ready"
For several days the poet pursued
his occupation. One morning his pat
ION called, in high glee, waving a letter.
"See what diplomacy may accom-
olish, Mr.. Poet" he said. "Just read
hat. | am going to win her? Well, l
.hink 1 am. I'll double your salary
hats what I'll do. There's nothing
small about me, and on my wedding
lay I'll write you out check But
ook at this?" And he pointed to a
passage in the letter. Your words
nave touched me very much. I never
gave you credit for such depth of feel
ng. How we are apt to misjudge!
7 our words touch secret chord in my
nature, dear friend, shall / confess it?
When | see you, alas, it is different!
Have little patience with me-"
There, what do you think of that?"
shouted the lover. "Isn't she already
won? Keep right on.
"These romantic girls can't fool me.
Grind out the poetry. I'll provide the
But as Claude worked his heart be-
came dark and clOuded. 1t oppressed
him constantly to be bringing up an
mage from the past. He struggled
but determined to break his
contract with the lover as soon as pos
'ible. He had the Joy of learning that
Ills romantic play would soon be pre-
luced and he trusted it might be sue
,essful 80 that he could devote himself
solely to his dramatic work. He had
oeen 30 filed with old memories that
ne incorporated them in the poem, dis
yuised it is true. He resorted TO such
fantastic devices concealing his name
and that of Julie, his old love, in these
illusions. Sub rosa there were many
lender messages to his ideal which his
patron could not observe. He brought
up many childhood incident in which
Countess Julie and he figured. Once
when his patron expressed some doubt
one of these vagaries Claude
silenced him imperiously with some
thing about poetic license. The poems
were a perfect cryptogram, telling in
cipher the story, or otherwise, by in
limation or hint, the love of his life,
his boyish alteration for the young
the downfall of his fathers
fortunes and the ruin of the family
name, his struggles in Paris, his aspira-
lions for fame and reDown. The sad
that he had lost the
young girl breathed through the lines
and resignation of a noble soul to the
made the pathOs more ap-