The Neihart herald. [volume] (Neihart, Mont.) 1890-1901, 1897-01-23
A TALE or A SHIRT.

- bHLE UT ~ OF1Ih u
Two Noblemen of the French Quarter,
New York, and Their Quarrel.
"A literal translation from the unedited leaf
let's of Pierre Houpla.l
Sacred name of a dog, where is then
the shirt Of my ancestors?'
1t was Hector Marie, Count De Van
rien, who made this inquiry frenetic as
he Withdrew his head from the trunk In
which he maintained the garment an
cestral.
There was CONSERVATION in his visage
as he put himself on end, plunging bis
hands despaired in his pockets. The
trunk was ranged in the corner Of the
little chamber of the fourth stage in q
house, once noble, on the street Bleeck-
81, where the Count De Vaurien, g spir-
It strong, elegant. with his friend, the
brave and handsome Breton, Yvon,
Marquis De Taguerague y Bobbetaille,
domiciled themselves modestly in wait
ing the rents enormous from their
estates.
But grace to the nobility Of their
nsmes renowned, they possessed the en-
try to the high society Of New York.
The ladies opulent and charming Of the
city were to knees before them, and the
papas, plutomillionaires, each day them
prayed to assist at the high ceremonials.
Yes, the trunk was there. but where
was the shirt, that apparel Of antiquity
glorious, which his valiant ancestor,
Raggles lie Fatigue, had brought back
from the crusades and which for so
many generations had been the chemise
unique of this family noble?
All the season he Hector Marie) had
bravely flashed its glittering front be-
fore the rich and lovely ones of New
York, and had they not made him some
pretty compliments on its expanse and
polishp
But where was it?
Sacred name Of a dog" himself
cried the count one time of more,
''where is, then, the shirt of my ances.
tors?"
There was no reply, although there
was another n in the apartment.
WON, Marquis de Taguerague. But
he couched himself in the bed.
And 30 replied not.
But slept he?
We go to see.
Ahi
Advancing to the bed with some steps
rapid, the count himself addressed to
him in a voice strident.
The marquis replied without himself
opening his eyes.
"What hast thou, then, that thou
makest me the big roarp"
What Is it that I have? What I
have is that I haze not the shirt of my
ancestors. Dost thou know where she
is?"
"How thou art drolli"
"That is not a reply. Dost thou
knowf'
"Oh, make me the silencei'
An aspect furious mounted to the fig.
ure Of the count.
Advancing his hand desperate, he re-
tired rapidly the bedolothes. There was
extended the marquis enveloped in the
shirt of the ancestors of the count.
The count pushed a cry furious.
"Miserablei'' he thundered. "As-
sassin of the honor Of my shirt of fam
lily, remove it, then, quickly, lest !
thee strangle. All, friend infamous,
did'st thou not know that I had to lead
the cotillon at the house. of the rich
Smitt tonight" Il
"And have I not to dine at the Mil
lionaire Jones' this EVENING" bitterly
exclaimed the marquis. "And is it not
that my shirt Is in retard from the
washerwoman?''
"Miserabler' himself cried again the
count.
"Ah, thou me makest fatigued!''
grumbled the marquis.
"Rise, thou, and dress thyselfl' cried
the count in q voice terrible. "The in
suit thou CONTEST to offer me demands
thy blood"
With these words, desperately signif-
cant, he restored the shirt of his ances-
tors to the trunk and drew from behind
It two sabers of much strength and
sharpness.
"As thou wilt" said the marquis un-
warmly.
CHOW, then, friend traitorous, in
guard!" cried the count when the
marquis had completed his toilet by the
pinning Of his collar to his o~vercoat.
Zone Of us two quits not this chamber
aliye!' '
A light demoniac flashed itself into
the eyes of the marquis. He came to
form a plan horrifying.
SIT is as thou sayesti" he sneered.
cit is true"
"Thou swearest that but one Of us
quits this chamber alive"
eyes"
"Then thou art. lost!'' replied the
marquis with f~ightful emphasis. And
moving himself slowly toward the door
he it opened.
Poor fool, =" he said, extending a fin
ger menacing to the count. "Then thii
chamber is thy tomb, for I leave il
alive, and thou art the fated one that
dost not"
And with a face terrific and unmovei
he shut the door upon the count ant
him left to die!-Thomas j. Vivian ii
New York Journal.
One EXPLANATION.