Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1899-10-12
An Ex-ACt0r's Self=Denial.

Brichanteau leaned back in his chair
and, stretching out his long, thin legs,
yawned luxuriousIy. Then, recover
ing himself with deliberation, he
thrust his hands deep down into his
trousers pockets.
His fingers came in contact with
some coin, and after jingling them for
a few minutes, he collected them into
the palm of his hand and, pulling them
out counted them carefully. They
consisted of two francs and few sous.
Putting them back into his pocket, he
arose and, assuming majestic atti-
tude, extended his arms to heaven
and spoke. His deep, rich, powerful
voice flooded the room.
"Ye gods" he cried. ''Melpomene
smiles. The mighty Joye is gracious.
Dame Fortune, willful jade, finding
that genius carresses that which she
first Haunted rewards her humble
servant with the base metal that sus-
tains his life, and he has yet two
francs! Wealth, riches illimitabe!"
1.-TWO francs. How shall we spend
them?' he muttered tragically. How
shall we dispose of this superfluous
bounty?" And, with a dramatic ges-
Uure he thrust the fingers of his right
hand through the masses of his long
gray hair. "Ha! We have it," he cried
suddenly, in deep stentorian tones.
THE Cafe Diane. We will dine, taste
once more ambrosial fare and quaff
again the nectar of the gods. The
thought is good
Jumping from his seat he took off
the old Powered silk dressing gown
he was wearing, and, hanging it care
fully on nail, went to the tiny cup
board.that contained his wardrobe and
drew forth an old and somewhat
threadbare fur-lined oyercoat, in
which, in spite of the hot June sun,
he proceeded to clothe himself.
He put on a large slouching hat, and
taking a cane of richly mounted pol
ished brass, walked out of the room.
1t was a long way down from the at
tic to the street, and the stairs were
dark and narrow. At last he reached
the ground floor and stood in the dark
narrow passage which led to the street.
Here he paused for a moment, stand
ing before a dirty, dilapidated door.
At last he made up his mind, and
raising his hand, raped loudly with
the knob of his cane.
Come in said a pleasant voice.
Brichanteau turned the handle and
finging back the door, stood for a mo-
neat on the threshold. hat in hand
bowling magnificently.
Good morning, madam" he said.
The room was hot and steaming
The ceiling, though low, was hid from
view by numberless cords, on which
hung various articles of clothing, al
more ar less damp. On the opposite
side of the room plump comely lit
tie woman was busily employed iron
Ing.
Good morning, M. Brichanteau," sh'
replied looking up from her work. 81
IS a fine day.
'tThe day is indeed fine" answers
Brichanteau, leaning elegantly agains
the doorpost as he spoke "Auror
smiles and feigns to paint her COLDER
sunbeams like flowers upon her humbl
slaves
Madam raised her hands with tina
pretty gesture which is common wit
every true born Frenchwoman. ''Ls
monsieur, how beautiful you talk! Yo
are indeed true poet"
He smiled and shook his head wit
conscious humility. Nay. madam. yo
fatter me. am no poet. only hun
BILE slave of art. A slave who has er
dured much for the cause, It's tru
but one who is vet a slave
She shook her head sympatheticall.
''You have had trials, monsieur?
she asked.
Trials" he answered, tragcall
AYE. trials. I have struggled:
have starved: l have played to chez
ing multitudes and bowling mobs;