The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1899-05-03
A PARIS EXPERIENCE.


ing 1t on paper with written words, to rob il
of its trail grace, its light SAVIOR. Why,
then, when it was related to us one even
ing, in all the complicated and decorated
luxury of modern talk, by the charming
woman who was the heroine OF the episode
why did it make such tenacious impress
sion upon us all that it has become, in one
little corner of Partisan life, one OF those
classic tales, patrmony of each group of
society, to which alusion is always under
stood and welcomed! Perhaps because it
was a clear gap in the chatter of infidelity,
in the hackneyed gossip of politics and lit
erature. Perhaps because, as an attitude,
gesture at times may suffice TO reveal TO
us a whole feminine body beneath it's cloth
ing-at times it also needs but few sin.
cere words uttered by woman TO disrobe
her soul completely.
We had been talking of mysterious solici.
tations, to-day classed and named by
science, from which so few of us are exempt
which invincibly compel some to add up
the flowers of a wallpaper, the volumes of
a library, everything that is additional
under their eyes; others to impose upon
themselves the task, walking along the side
path of a street, TO reach such gas jet be
fore the cab rolling up behind them is
abreast of them, or public clock has struck
its last note; and others, again, each night
before going to bed, to practice strange
habits in disposing of objects, visiting cup
boards and Golfers We discussed all the
light diseases of our contemporary brains,
crumbs of monomana and madness trans
mitted by inheritance after inheritance, and
finally dispersed throughout the whole of
our worn humanity.
A young woman had said nothing She
listened to us, a touch of surprise on her
peaceful, pretty visage, which was framed
by even, black coils.
Somebody asked her: "And you, madam
are you quite free of our modern manias?
Have you not single little nervous habit
TO confess?"
She appeared to search her memory in all
sincerity. She made a sign with her head:
mo, no." We felt that she spoke the truth,
so much did all that we saw and knew Of
her, her restful bearing, her renown as an
unblemished wife, lift her above the fash
ionabe dolls who had just been eonfessng
the unsettled state of their systems.
Doubtless her modesty feared the boast Of
so complete an indemnity when everyone
around her had acknowledged all sorts of
little troubles. She corrected herself:
Good heavens! | can't say that habitu-
ally add up the cab numbers, or that make
an inventory of all my dresses before going
TO bed. Still, the other day I experienced
something that sufficiently resembles what
you have been describing, if ! have under
stood you quite-a kind of interior impul.
sion, a force which compels you to accom-
plish an indifferent act on the spot, as if it
were matter of life or death"
We insisted on hearing the story, and she
told it most graciously, with the air of beg
ging pardon for the claim on the attention
of others by so slight an adventure.
I'm two words, this is what happened to
me. Five or six days ago | had gone out
with my little girl, Suzon-you know her,
she is eight was taking her to her class,
for this big girl already follows classes. AS
it was very fine we had decided on going on
foot by the Champs Elysees and the boule-
Yards from my home to the Rue Laftte.
And so we were walking along quite gay,
chattering together, when at the top of the
Rond Point a lame man, rather young,
imped up to us holding out his hand with
out saying anything. | carried my parasol
in my right hand; with my left hand ! held
up my skirts; | confess had not the pa
bitil'C " sup anu NUM- lOl MY purse. L
went on and gave nothing TO the beggar.
''Suzon and / continued to walk along the
Champs Elysees. The little one had sud
denly ceased to talk, and | also, without
quite knowing why, no longer felt any wish
to talk. We were at the Place de Ia Con-
corde, AID yet we had neither of us opened
our lips since we had passed the beggar.
And little by little felt stir and increase a
l. i rf i,
the feeling Of having accomplished an ir.
reparable action, OF being threatened, for
that very reason, with vague peril in the
future.
Let US see ! said 10 myself, "have !
sinned very graciously against charity in
giving nothing to that beggar? / never pre-.
tend to regard it as my duty to give to every
beggar | meet. | will be more generous with
the next, that is all
But all my arguments did not succeed
in convincing me, and my inward discomfort
increased-became a sort of anguish, so that
ten times i felt wish to turn back to the
spot where we had met that man. Will you
believe it? 1t was false sentiment of hu.
man respect that withheld me from doing
so in the presence of my little daughter. We
are really worth nothing more the moment
We dCl III view Vi tue JuuBlneHJ VI OJHeTs.
eve had nearly come to the end of our
walk and were going to turn the corner
of the Rue LATTE when Suzon pulled gently
at my dress to stop me.
Mammal she cried.
What do you want, darling?'
''She fixed her great blue eyes on me and
said, gravely:
Mamma, why did you give nothing to
that poor man in the Champs Elysees?
Like me, she had thought of nothing else
since our meeting with that man; her heart
was oppressed like mine; only, better than
her mother, or more sincere, she confessed
quite simply her uneasiness.
81 did not hsitate an instant. You are
right, dearest said to her.
owe had walked more quickly than usual
under the obsesson of our fixed idea; q
minutes or so still remained before the class
hour. | called a cab jumped into it with
Suzon, and the driver went up the Champ;
Elysees at quick pace under promise of q
generous tip.
"Suzon and / held each others hand, and
] beg you to believe that we were far from
treasured. If the beggar should have gone
away? Suppose we could not find hin
again2 Arrived az the Rond-point W.