The San Francisco call., 1898-03-03

~ was a very handsome man, with smooth face and wonderful hair> re- member his exile. and how about the same time Louis Napoleon rode through the streets of Paris triumphant, kVery- body then cheered for Napoleon put - there were a few of the common people who still shouted Long live the re- publici'
 When asked to recall some or tne scenes of the revolution Madame Reu- tier replied. that she at no time Wie- messed the disturbances going m in the - heart of Paris: The women Of her class and sympathies were removed 1roia tue scenes of actual conflict,
 Again returning to her early life, she recalled the time when the Dauphin had nresented her, with his own hands, : a token: of esteem and reward for her -playing. "Just to think" she sobbed' .that now in my old age I am without "a nennv. Why" she. continued, there are pictures in the Royal Academy to- day painted by my uncle, Louis Goo- frey Jadin. There are songs my grand father composed, being sung there to- day, and. yet here am alone, and In poverty
 .~ When asked why she had not re- turned to France, she made no reply for a long time; then said: When l was ready to go, my husband was not; when he~was ready was not. That Is all"
 The Interpreter leaned. far over and said: "Is there no other reason Mad ame?" She looked at The Call correspondent who sat near and shock her head She did not seem to relish the thought that a suspicion: existed to the effect that she had not told all, and, while no out ward sign of impatienee or anger were made manifest. it was evident that Madame Routier had told all she would ever tell concerning her past. .. A. few years ago there was a solemn ization of the marriage or Jo- .seph and Leonide Routier Thirty years had elapsed since the cer- .emony in. San Francisco in '59, before they obtained the ecclesiastical sane tion of the Catholic church. No ac- count of the ceremony can be found among the records of the parish, but the custodian of them distinctly re- : members that it took place.
 
 And this is the end of the tale; a tale that fingers in ones mind and is fragrant, as dead rose leaves are, with bygone memories that are bitter-sweet. = Of the. friends Joseph Routier, or Timoleon Charles Marie Joseph Routier : de Bullemont had in the days of his prosperity, not all have deserted the widow of. the, man who would have shared his last cent with them. So sweet is the memory of his unbounded generosity, so kindly Is their remem- brance of the faded little old woman who was once the chatelaine of "Rou- tiers" that for once the old climax of heartlesS ingratitude Is lacking. The neighbors for miles around have re- sponded~ to the demands of Madame Routier's necessity, and the cost of her maintenance at the Ridge Home is paid by small contributions of many friends.
 A visit to the old home of the Rou- tiers since Mime. Routier left it dis. closes a sad scene of desolation. Her chair is still by the windo Y. Her hus- bands room has not been disturbed since the day of his death. Instead of taking all she could away, it seemed to be the wish of Mime. Routier to leave her little all in the only place on this earth she could feel at home.
 A hired man roaming through the house after she left found stacks and stacks of letters. and with a ruthless hand he burnt them all. Perhaps it is better that he did,