Santa Fe new Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1898-1951, 1898-06-21
A SIGNATURE.


1t was about 10 days ago, at the
country home of Brignac, on one o1
those exquisite afternoons when, al
though one shivers at the thought Of the
approaching autumn, the sun throws
here and there mild though already
paler rays.
While awaiting the hour for taking
up the nets in the pretty bend of the
Marine, a river which loiters indolently
along the meadows, winding like a
great silver snake, we were talking on
the wide veranda, which was filled with
the heavy, intoxicating odor of hello
tropes.
A charming man is Brignac. Former
ly an officer in the light cavalry, he is a
man Of majestic chest, large face, a
trile too flushed, with an immense
white beard and square features. Born
at that period when the empire was at
its height, he had taken pleasure as it
came to him, and it must be said that
the advent of the republic seemed to
him an insufficient reason for renounc-
ing the pleasures Of this world. He
amused himself under M. Theirs, under
MaoMahon and even under M. Grevy.
1t was only even years ago that the
govt thought best to interfere. Brignac
was then-but why disclose the age of
a gallant man whose friendship is true
and whose cook is without equal? He
wa advised to try the baths. 1t was
there, near a spring, whence bubbled
up a hot liquid which smelled like a
bad egg, that be met a young English
girl, straight and slender as a pretty
bamboo stalk. He had still a gallant
air and quite a fortune, she very little.
The next winter the pretty English
woman married the former cavalry off.
Ger. They have one child. They are
happy.
Only, Brignao has aged a great deal
and has become horribly serious. He is
u good comrade for me. He gave me
when I was very young that practical
advice which il never forgotten, and I
am happy from time to time to be with
him-for an hour or two.
While talking, as we passed by a lit
tie room opening IN the conservatory, /
saw in the corner Of the room, soberly
seated before a table, my hosts son,
CASTOR, a pretty, dark child. He had
let his pen roll across the table, and
with a glance that seemed to me full Of
melancholy be followed the rustling
flight Of the swallows that were skim
ming close to the lawn, flying through
the swarms Of gnats.
On such a beautiful day, in this
room, which, in contrast to the sunny
veranda, seemed more gloomy than a
dungeon in the palace Of the doges, the
sight Of this child prisoner gave me
pain, and ! could not refrain from say.
ing to my friend:
"How have you the heart to shut up
this child at such q timer" And Brignac
answered:
my dear friend, when he knows
how to write ! will leave him alone,
for he ia not yet 8 years old and very
intelligent; but he must learn to write,
and write we'll, / mean"
"That is without doubt because your
own handwriting is like cat scratches.
"That might indeed be a reason. We
should endeavor to help our children to
avoid such Of our faults as have trou.
bled US in our own career-and be-
sides''-
"My dear Brignac, l do not know
whether 1t is because you live too much
in the country, but it seems to me that
you are becoming very much Of a Prud.
He interrupted me with some spirit:
Perhaps I am like Prudhomme.
was an individual who
padded his own canoe very we'll; be.
sides Do you wish me to tell you why
! am 20 anxious that my little scamp
should write we'll?
1T ia a story Of that time when you
would not have called me Prudhomme.
1t was q long time ago, in 1858. At
that time Baden Baden was Baden Ba.
den, and Monte Carlo nothing but a lit.
tie fishing village. Every one who was
In the swim or considered himself 90
hurried to Baden. Baden as soon az July
came around. At that time the club.
rooms were empty-not more 20 than
now, during the week Of the races at
That year / had remained at
Paris, where, in my little suit on a
floor in the Rue Taitbout, / had
not been so frightfully dull, when one
morning q letter was brought to me.
The letter was q demand for money
not n Of those vulgar, begging ~letters.
heaping upon M recitals Of i'll luck,
swearing eternal gratitude and e~verlast-
ing devotion. No, II was short and to
the. point, without any beating about
the bush.
"'I have not q single sou. Send me
Immediately !, 900 francs that l may
pay my hotel bill and return TO France
10 enlist.
"This letter. horribly scrawled. was