The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, 1899-04-08
THE TWO FRANCS.

Brichanteau leaned back in his
chair, and, stretching out his long,
thin legs, yawned luxuriously. Then,
recovering himself with deliberation,
=, be thrust his hands deep down into
lis trousers pockets.
His fingers came in contact with
some coins, and, after jingling them
for few minutes, he collected them
in the palm CT his hand. and, pulling
them ont, counted them carefully.
They consisted Of two francs and a
few sous. Putting them back into his
pocket, he rose, and, assuming ma
jestic attitude, extended his arms to
heaven and spoke. His deep, rich,
powerful voice flooded the room.
eye gods." he cried, "Melpomene
smiles. Yhe mighty Jove is gracious.
Dame Fortune, willful jade, finding
that genius cares not for her frown,
now, womanlike, caresses that which
first she fouted. Beh Id, today the
theatre rewards its humble servant
with that base metal that sustains his
life, and he has yet two francs!
Wealth, riches illimitable! Two francs!
Ahar'
With gesture Of magnificent
abandon he flung himself into his
chair, and, resting his chin On his left
hand, sat for Few minutes with his
brows knit as / in deep thought.
Two francsl How shall We spend
them?" he n1uttered, tragically. s'How
shall we dispose of this superauous
bounty OF the fouting dame?" And,
with a dramatic gesture, he thrust the
fingers Of his right hand through the
masses of his long, gray hair. ''Ha!
We have it," he cried suddenly, =
deep, stentorian tones. The Cafe
Diane. We will dine; taste once more
ambrosial fare, and quatf again the
nectar Of the gods. 'Tis good. The
thought is good
Jumping from his seat, he took
of the Old fiowe:ed silk dress
ing-gown be was wearing and hanging
it carefully on nail, went to the tiny
cupboard that contained his wardrobe.
and drew forth an old and somewhat
threadhare fur!ined overcoaE, in which,
despite the hos June sun, he proceed
ed to clothe himself.
Then, when he had carefully ex-
amined his chin 10 see if it required
shaving, and readius:ed his long, lank
hair, be pat on large, slouchins felt
hat, and, taking a cane richly mounted
with polished brass, walked oat Of the
room.
It was long way down from the
attic to the street, and the stairs were
da"k and narrow. Brichanteau, who
always carefully explained to his few
visitors that he preferred the attic, as
it was nearer f'the flaming courses Of
the whirling stars" walked down with
evident distaste.
At last he reached the ground floor,
and stood in the dark, narrow passage
which led to the street. Here he
paused, standing for minute in deep
meditation before 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 pleasant voice.
Brichanteau turned the handle, and,
finging back the door, stood for a
moment on the threshold, hat in hand,
bowing magnihcently.
'EGood morning, madam" he said.
The room was hot and steamlng.
The ceiling, though low, was hidden
from view by numberless cords, on
which hung various articles of cloth
ing, all more or less damp. On the
opposite side Of the room plump,
comelv little woman was busily en-
ployed ironing.
GOOD morning, Monsieur BRIGHAM
teau," she replied, looking up for a
moment from her work. ''It is a fine
day"
''The day indeed is fne," answered
Brichanteau, leaning elegantly against
the door posts as he spoke. 'tAurora
smiles, and deigns to rain her golden
suubeams like flowers upon her hum.
bic slaves
Madame raised her hands with that
pretty gesture which is common to
every true-born Frenchwoman. sLa,
Monsieur! How beautifully you talk.
You are indeed true poet.
He smiled and shook his head with
conscious humility. Nay, madame,
you fatter me. I am no poet; only @
humble slave of Art. 4 slave who
has endured much for the Cause, tits
true; but one who is yet a slave"