The Dupuyer acantha. [volume] (Dupuyer, Mont.) 1894-1904, 1899-11-23
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%fC@GGM@@ BY ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON.
INTERNATIONAL PRESS ASSOCIATION.

| Admirable, admirable imp" he
cried. what a morning, what an hour
for a theorist of forty-two! No" he
continued, a~postrophizing heaven, Il
did not know that such boys existed; I
was ignorant they made them SO; |
had doubted of my race; and now! 1t
is like" he added, picking up his stick,
like a lovers meeting. | have
bruised my favorite staff in that mo-
ment of enthusiasm. The injury, how
ever, is not grave" He caught the
boy looking at him in obvious wonder,
embarrassment, and alarm. "Hello!
said he, why do you look at me like
that? Egad, I believe the boy de-
spises me. Do you despise me, boy?"
go, no." replied Jean-Marie, serious
ly; "only l do not understand"
"You must excuse me, sir" returned
the Doctor, with gravity; 81 am still so
young. o, hang him!" he added to
himself. And he took his seat again
and observed the boy sardonically.
He has spoiled the quiet of my morn
ing" thought he. 81 shall be nervous
all day, and have a febricule when I
digest. Let me compose myself" And
so he dismissed his preoccupations by
an effort of the will which he had long
practiced, and let his soul roam abroad
in the contemplation of the morning.
He inhaled the air, tasting it critically
as a connoisseur tastes a vintage, and
prolonging the expiration with hy-
gienic gusto. He counted the little
1ecks of cloud along the sky. He fol-
lowed the movements of the birds
round the church tower-making long
sweeps, hanging poised, or turning airy
somersaults in fancy, and beating the
wind with imaginary pinions. And in
this way he regained peace of mind and
animal composure, conscious of his
limbs, conscious Of the sight of his
eyes, conscious that the air had a cool
taste, like a fruit, at the top Of his
throat, and at last, in complete abb
straction, he gan to sing. The Doc
tor had but one air-"Malbrouck sen
va-t-en guerre;' even with that he was
on terms of mere politeness; and his
musical exploits were always reserved
for moments when he was alone and
entirely happy.
He was recalled to earth rudely by a
panied expression on the boys face.
What do you think of my singing?'
he inquired, stopping in the middle of
a note; and then, after he had waited
some little while and received no an
swer, "What do you think of my sing
ing?" he repeated, imperiously.
Il do not like it," faltered Jean
Marie.
ooh, GOMEZ" cried the Doctor. "Pos-
sibly you are a performer yourself?"
Il sing better than that" replied the
boy.
The Doctor eyed him for some
seconds in stupefaction. He was aware
that he was angry, and blushed fol
himself in consequence, which made
him angrier. eff this is how you ad.
dress your master!" he said at last
with a shrug and a flourish of his
arms.
Il do not speak to him at ALL" re.
turned the boy. II do not like him"
"Then you like me?" snapped Doctor
DespreZ, with unusual eagerness.
81 do not know" answered Jean,
Marie.
The Doctor rose. 81 shall wish yol
a good-morning," he said. "You arr
| too much for me. Perhaps you have
blood in your veins, perhaps c~elestia
= ichor, or, perhaps you circulate moth
= ing more gross than ~respirable air
= but of one thing l an inexpugnabl,
= assured:-that you are no human
being. No, boy'-shaking his stick a
him-"you are not a human being
Write, write it in your memory
am lot a human being-I have no pre-
tension to be a human being-I am
dive, a dream, an angel, an a~crostic
an illusion-what o. please, but no
= a human being And so accept m,
t humble salutations and farewell!'
e And with that the Doctor made oil
r along the street in some emotion; an
r the boy stood, mentally gaping, wher
S he left him.
e CHAPTER III.
: * m ADAME DEsPRE