The silver messenger. (Challis, Idaho) 1890-1912, 1899-01-10
THE COBBhER'S STORY.
BY Lawrence Bertram. 4
>e>e~eAee~o~e~e~e
tom DEyINE. the eobb,er nrsh.,

tom DEVINE, the cobbler, pushed
L up his spectacles and gave me a
whimsical glance.
Its GURUS" he remarked. .it's GU
rus what a difference it makes to a
mans family how he IS put out of the
world! Hang him, and his folks feel
disgraced forever; cut off his head with
guillotne, and"
The old man made a flourish with
his head, as though the matter were
one for serious congratulation.
"Le0stways," he added, returning to
his mending again, that's the way
some folks think. Lord. how set uD
NJ. Lafitte was about it, to be sure. end
all on account of an ancestor of his who
happened to lose his head on the scat
fold with Louis WI
Who was NJ. Lafitte? Well, he was
Frenchman who once took lodgiD's
on the upper floor of this house, an old
ramshaclle affair now, but once a man.
slon' as you can see, and as fashionable
street as there was in London
$50 | have heard" / asserted.
THE Frenchman," he continued
was man somewhere about 60 years
of ago, tall and stiff in his bearing: and
though his clothes were worn and shah
by-lookin', his linen, 1 noticed, was neat
and tidy. and as white as snow"
bloomsbury said he, when. l had
showed him the room-I'm the care
taker Of the building, you see, sir-'ees
m reeOeofa hIa o,,,+o;ra of IL. -.
eeS it rot so, Meester Concierge?'
More than respectable, mossoo.
said /, triae tartly. 1T was once a
fashionable part of London
lie sighed as he looked about the
room.
"'Eet will do, Meester Concierge
lie would always call me that, sir,
though l told him time and again it
wasn't my name-'eet will do for the
praisant,' with flourish of his white
hand, as though the next month would
fird him in Park Lane; and so he en-
gagged the room, ard paid for it in ad-
vance.
IN few hours they moved in-him.
his sick wife, his daughter, Mile. Jus
tine, and Polly, as cunning a parrot as
l ever see.
"Purty? Well, don't know. For
a foreigner ma'm'selle might hev been
called purity. She was a slight little
thing, with great big eyes. and long
eyelashes throwing deep shadders into
EN- like grasses into brook"
He cleared his throat and spread his
hands, as though the matter of looks
was of no consequence.
but. Lord!" he exclaimed with sud-
den animation, ''liow she could singi
Gay songs, too. in French and Eye
Italian, with sometimes an English bal
lad or SO. Why, sir" giving the boot q
tremendous whack, there was fortin'
in her voice, fortin' as big as PATHS:
and only for the fact of that precious
ancestor of hers a-losin' of his head on
the scaffold with Louis XVI. she'd q
made it, too. as easy as-thati" giving
the boot another whack.
"But the mossool How stiff he did
draw himself up, to be sure, at the
very mention of it.
Understand me-" the cobbler ex-
planned, 1t wasn't out of any cfficious
meddlecomeness that 1 first suggested
the thing to him. No; it wasn't till he
was behindhand in his rent, and his
poor eyes-he was a diamond cutter.
you see, sir, and sat all day with his eye
glued to glass-was giving out, that
thought of some way in which mann
selle could help him better than by en-
broidering.
The day the diamond got lost, my,
how they did so oni l thought the
house was ATTIRE: and when run up to
see,' there was the old lady moaning.
and ma'm'selle and mossoo a-turnin'
everything toPsy-turvy in the room.
what diamond?' says 1. wonderin'
If they all had gone crazy, and then
between the old lady and her husband.
l found that she had been more aiiing
than usual that day. and in one of his
journeys from his bench to the bed,
a-waitin' on her. he had lost the dia-
mond he was cuttin', au extry large and
fine one.
High and low we searched for it, in
every crack and corner. The bedding.
the old rug. everything was shook out.
TWAS no use. though, and finally
we give it up; and what was worse. of
course the poor gentleman had to make
it up. 1t was tough, can tell you, for
at the best of times they only about
made ends meet.
Il thought of ma'm'selle's voice, rare
enough to bring a guinea for every
note. but thanks to that aristocrat
whose head had tumbled on the same
plank with Louis XVI.'s, daren't men
zion it.