The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1897-09-01
THE FAIR CAPUCHIN.

and large fortune Opposite his man
sion lived q professor Of the healing aFs
called Don Ambrose, who, in order to
keep his curious neighbor from esying In
to his secrets. kept in his window vases
some filed with flowers, others with sweet
herbs, such as parsley, thyme, marJoram,
and the like.
The doctor was an elderly man, vergine
close on 60 and exceedingly ayaricious.
1t happened that one morning the prince,
rising earlier than usual, caught a glimpse
of one of the loveliest faces he ever beheid
peeping behind the flowers. He learned
that it was the face of Don An brosio's
ward, and that the doctor intended to
marry her for her fortune. He also learned
that the only chance of meeting her was
on Christmas eve, when the doctor had
promised to take her to church, that she
might see the ceremonies usual on the &C.
casion, but not to discover the secret OF
his having ward or give cause for suspi-
cion the jealous doctor intended to dis
guise her Capuchin.
The expected evening at length arrived.
The prince carefully watched the DOCTORS
door, until, sure enough, he saw him leave
the house in company with monk. Los
ing not a moment in following, he entered
the church close behind them. Then, pre-
tending to fall in with them by accident,
he said:
'fHal Don Am brosio, are you here, and
who is this young friar in your company"
"Only a Capuchin novice, relative,
whom the prior has permitted to pass the
evening with me-" replied the disciple of
Asculapius, and as he spoke he drew the
hood closer over the face of his companion,
trying to shuttle off into the middle of the
crowd.
But the prince kept his post at the side
of the young novice, condescendingly ex-
planning to him all that was novel or ex-
traordinary in the scene, not without slip
ping in tender word at intervals when
the doctor was looking another way, in
tending to snatch a favorable opportunity
of boiling with his fair companion. But
the other was always on the alert.
AT the conclusion of the ceremony he
made another desperate effort to get off,
but his neighbor, always prepared, de-
clared that he had received SO much pleas
ure in the Doctors company that he was
resolved to take him and his young charge
to supper with him.
The doctor, not knowing to what length
SO wild a young man might carry his
frolic, agreed to accompany the prince
home on the express proViso that they
should not be detained more than an hour.
Soon after they arrived supper was an
nounced, and the prince, the doctor and
the novice took their seats. 1t being the
vigil of Christmas, the meal was meager,
consisting chiefly of fish.
No sooner were the covers removed than
the prince, casting his eye from one dish
to another, got into fury, which in
creased at every article. He started up ID
an ecstasy of rage.
'Whatl' he roared in voice of thunder.
Gan without parsley That villain cook
shall pay for his neglect
So saying, he ran about like mailman
needless of the entreaties of Don A IN brosio,
until at length. spying his sword in a cor
ner, he seized it, and rushing down staira
swore he would send his careless cook to
his mortal account without more ado.
A tremendous 1proar was heard below,
which made poor mbrosio trem BILE for
the life of the unIucky offender. just then
O dozen servants entered the room.
"Don Ambrosiol Don Alnbrosiol Are
you not ashamed to let the prince cut all
our threats for little parsley when you
have SO much growing in your Window
For heavens sake, run over and fetch
some or we shall be murderedi'
With these words they laid hold of him,
one pulling, another pushing, until they
got him fairly down stairs.
Finding there was no remedy, the doc
tor made the best of his way to his own
house, tore up the parsley by the roots,
and was back again in less than minute.
But short as was his stay, there was
quite time enough, it appeared, for the
prince and all his household to have re-
tired to rest, for the huge doors of the pal
ace were fast locked and barred against
his ingress.
In vain DR.. Ambrosio knocked and
knocked, shouting and crying to the serv-
ants to open for the love of all the saints,
bawling till he was hoarse that he had
brought the parsley. The ponderous por-
tails remained firm on their memorable
hinges.
Long did the desperate doctor besiege
the princely residence with ordinations,
curses and laundering raps at the door, in
defiance of missiles, wet and dry. 1t was
q plain case-the neighbors all saw that
poor Don Ambrosio had lost his senses.
Finding how matters stood, the doctor
at length thought that his best plan would
be to proceed to the capitano di g1ustlzla.
Hearing the strange tale of Don Anbros1o,
who, still bent on preserving his secret.
never limited that it was no Capuchin, but
his ward, who was thus unlawfully de-
tanned, the magistrate resolved himself to
accompany the doctor to the princes man
sion, conoeiving it one of his frolics.
The capitano, having narrated the COM
plant of Don Ambrosio. begged the other
would finish the affair by giving the Cap
uchin back to the poor man.
"a Capuchin, - said the prince in feigned
surprise lin my housed Don Ambrosio
has lost his wits. The whole neighbor-
hood can testify to the disturbance he has
this evening made at my door. You are
at liberty to search my house from roof to
cellar, and if you find monk or friar, Cap
uchin or Carmelite, young or old, you
may take him and welcome, but if all this
should turn out to be merely the effect of
Don Am brosio's disordered brain, it will
only be charity to him and satisfaction to
me to lodge him in the madhouse, for fear
he should go in@ greater excuses. Come,
gentlemen, begin your examination.
just then lady, superbly attired and
beautiful, passed through the apartment.
No sooner did she catch the eye of the doc
tor than, pointing to her, "There, thereP'
he exclaimed. 'That is the CapuchinH
"Poor manP' said the capitano di gus
tizia, crossing himself Mistake lady
for Capucbin! He's quite gonei''