davidaulloa/AmericanStories huggingface dataset:
The Washington times., 1902-05-18

of the happiest faces have ever seel
have been among the brothers of thi
rigidly severe order"
Then. catching a glimpse of the incred
ulity which. even with the best Of inten'
tions, could not drive from my face, HI
went on:
You. yourself. my dear friend. must
know that life offers no more bitter mock
cry than the so-called pleasures which
We grasp at SO eagerly and which turn Sc
quickly to dust in our hands. Surely, you
will admit that a week of hard work
selt-de1ial and temperate living give you
more solid enjoyment than the same pc
riod devoted to eating. drinking. and
merrymaking?"
admitted the truth of what he said,
and then he continued
Now, II hard work, self-denial and
| temperate living give you more pleasure
| than TIE qualification of the mere animal
/ side of yolr nature. is IL not obvious that
more austerc self-denial. more diligent
work for the sake of others, and still
frmer rebellion against the carr:l ap-
petites will bring you even greater hap
piness7'
He dropped his line of argument at this
point, seeing that he had perhaps sowed
seed where it might bring fruit. and went
on with his story of Brother Josephuc.
You my friend, who lay so much stress
on the pleasures of life. as you call them
would shudder at the mere thought of the
austerities and self-denial which mark
existence in a Trappist monastery.
Literally the monks divide their wax
ing hours between work and prayer. The
daily devoti0ns begin at 2 o'clock In the
morning, when the ringing of the bell
summons tho white-robed figures for
mathis. and then the voices of all are lift
ed together.
Deus adjuvendum me festina," chants
the abbot.
Deus adjuvendum me festina," comes
the reply from all the assembled broth
ers.
why, even Louis XIV Of France, one of
the most famous voluptuaries that the
world has ever seen, said precisely this
once to Du Barry when the two were
talking about his daughters retirement
from the gay life OF Paris and Versailles
to the quiet of the convent. You cannot
ask for any higher authority on the
emptiness OF what the world calls pleas
ure than that dissolute French King. can
you?"
"At half-past prime is celebrated by
the entire community. closing with the
Angelus Then there are private de-
votions and confessions lasting until 8
O'clock"
What sins do they have TO confess II
they lead such austere lives?' l inter-
rupted.
"Ah. my dear friend said Father
Dastis, "evil is always with us, for even
IL We are bound hand and foot that does
not prevent us from SHINING in thought.
Moreover. the vow OF silence is SO Sc
we're that any accidental noise, like the
dropping of a dish in the refectory, or the |
rustling of the leaves Of book requires
forgiveness at the hands of the abbot.
After confessions the monks labor In |
the fields until noon. when the Angelus
calls them again to prayer. At half-past
The Washington times., 1902-05-18

voice in reply. Here we be stranded il
the country with never a nail nor strap tt
help u.s."
liked not his tone nor his manner. ant
probably showed as much in my reply, fol
he Strengthened, and saw him feel at hi.
belt.
That is not much. say you do you?" he
cried. And do sou think that all?"
Tut, tut. my friend. Take your hand
from your belt and tel me what have you
inside
God knows!" he answered, with re-
newed wrath. "a witch, a woman. the
devil, perhaps" and added, Settle your
head well on your shoulders before you
go nigh to that door,
As | approached the coach, a hooded
head appeared at the window. and high
girlish voice said in a strain just be-
! twixt uncomfortable anger and tears:
You wretched men. cannot something
! be done? Am to die here in this dread
| ful night? Who are you, sir?"
"A wanderer. madam, at your service, -
/ answered.
/
some temper to it," she cried. Can you
not whip these churls into doing some
/ thing. sir?"
| / could not fail TO notice even then
that afraid though she might be, anger
controlled her more than fear.
"The case is rot so bad, mistress, as
you think. We cannot be more than n
mile from Gowan's Tavern, which stands
hereabouts."
But how am to get thcre?'
''1f you could mount my horse, We would
make it in a short time, with only a little
worse wetting."
Thereupon without reason the note
changed
Il cannot! cannot" said she with
tears in her voice.
"If you will trust to me-
And who are you?" she cried sudden
ly. Il do net know ygu.''
Somewhat nettled at these abrupt
changes of manner. l was guilty of pIque
Wherefore. answering that had but tried
to offer her help l made as If to move on.
Wait! Wait! In Gods name, sir,
nouiu sou itdNt ruc SuCH Il VIII
derness?"
Indeed, / would not. mistress. but It
appears you do not wish my help"
Thereupon the door opened, and a chit
of creature ia "a black hood and long
cape stepped o1t and down into nearly
a foot of mud.
was off Roger In an instant, and by
her side.
Forgive me, young lady; was as rude
as your men. Come, the thing is not so
bad;" and without moro ado. TO tell gospel
truth, the thought of her little feet In that
oozing mud gave me confidence, picked
her up as If she had been a baby and set
her on old Rogers back.
And do you 1wo me unhitch the horses
and lead them on after us to the tavern"
j added
The havoc created by the mud was evil
dent enough now, for as l led my horse
by the lantern could see a tiny shoe that
once had had bright silver buckle. But
its simmer was dim now under the drip
ping yellow mud, and, as far as i could
see, the same clay covered what must
have been a black silk stocking. Then in .
a moment had led Roger out of the light ,
and up the road.
Here vas a pretty mess. What would ,
the general say to his emissary TO the |
commar der chief, SO carefully eau
The Washington times., 1902-05-18
CHAPTER II.
IN WHICH TIE WORLD ENDS FOR ONE MAN
AND BEGINS FOR ANOTHER.

IN WHICH TIE WORLD ENDS FOR ONE MA,
AND BEGINS FOR ANOTHER.
| The scene that met our gaze as we go
through the door was anything but con
soling. In fact, my companion drew bacl
against me as she entered, and instinct.
lively grasped my arm. For the room
| which at best was about what might have
( been expected from the exterior of the
house, was now filled with, the fumes OF
| foul tobacco; and the. long. low ceiling
was black with the smoke of lamps that
spluttered and smelt till the atmosphere
/ turned the gorge.
At one end burned a fire in a huge fire.
place. Two or three cqInmon tables were
in the room. and around one of these half
dozen men stood holding their mugs
high in the air as they reeied about and
sang in drunken discoih: >
For he's a chol-l-y COOL fel.lo.o.o-w,
f'r he's n cho-l-l-y good fel-lo-ow,
F'r he's chol-l-y good fel-eloo-o-o-w,'
rs nobody caan de-e-ny-y-y.
1t was clear enough that the Jolly good
fellow on this occasion was a wretched
lump of clay lying in most inhuman
posture under the table. At the farther
end of the room stood bench. which,
from the bottles upon 1t, was evidently
the bar. and behind this leaned the tav-
ernkeeper. humping out the time with
pewter mug.
As the company appeared to take not
the slightest notice OF us, but continued
to celebrate the virtues of their for the
time departed friend, led my companion
over to the fireplace. drew up a stool for
her. and bade her sit quietly for the
double purpose of drying her clothing and
avoiding any unnecessary attention from
the other occupants of the room Then,
still moving quietly, approached the
landlord. and, with many mlsgiving
asked him for some sort of food and
drink
AYE. food there is none.'' cried he;
but you can drink yourself to death. an
you will. my friends
And forthwith he pointed to a row of
ale kegs.
Listen to me. landlord" said sternly.
Il have a lady here. and she must have
food and lodging this night"
hi. boys, look here' What in hell's
name do ye now, Stop yer screaming
and bowling! Do yer not see there's
gentry PRESENT."
The noise ceased in moment, and the
company stood looking at the tavern
keeper, and then. following the line of
his finger, all turned like automatons to
where the girl sat bending over the fire.
l had an instant to study them closer
and became aware, as one will in the
twinliling of an eye, that one of
the company appeared to be of
a better sort. He wore top-bocts
and riding breeks and swallow
tail coat. befouled with mud. and by his
side hung a long sword. Another was a
sombre. long faced country man, while the
rest apeared to be clowns. that are alike
whether in town or country the world
over.
The silence lasted but an instant. and
hen he of the riding boots Strengthened
himself and cried out:
The Washington times., 1902-05-18
By JAMES L. FORD.

1T was from the lips of my friend, Fa
ther Dastis. who has served hi
L church in 60 many corners of tn
globe and in 50 many different way
that he says himself that he has lost al
sense of nationality and personality, tha
i learned this story of a lifelong warfar'
between the flesh and the spirit.
IL his time Father Dastis has lived ant
worked in nearly every European capital
I and ] know from remarks that he let!
fall now and then, as well as from th'
enormous variety AMI accuracy of his in
! formation, that he has been on intimate
/ terms with many OF the men who have
/ helped to make contemporaneous history
and has himself plared part Of NO small
importance in the councils of the "hurcf
which he served so faithfully.
For the past half dozen years this gray
haired, bright eyed man of sixty, who
has seen life in So many of its most In
teresting phares, has been the priest of a
fourishing mission in the Italian quarter
of the town, laboring diligently and with
brave heart and cheerful smile for the
souls of the very poor, and apparently
enjoing his life and his work with the
keen zest that ore might look for in a re-
ligious zealot OF. one and twenty.
Certain II is that II he were not thor
oughly happy and in earnest in his work
he would not have won the hearts and
confidence of his parishiorcrs as COM
pletely as he has.
Father Dastis does not allow himself
mary of the so-called pleasures Of life,
but he has done me the great compliment
of numbering among the few In which he
indulgcs, that Of the occasional dinner
that we have together in a certain small
Italian restaurant, which ] do not pro-
pose to spoil by revealing its location.
At present, believe that it boasts Of
no American patron, save myself, cir
cumstance which may account In part for
the excellence of its cookery and the
cheapness of its prices.
Once in a while Father Dastis and !
linger late over our coffee. cognac and
cigars, and it was on one of these oc-
casions that he told me the story OF
Brother Josephus and his sixty years
struggle between his interest in worldly
things and the higher spiritual life which
he embraced when In early manhood he
took the VOWS OF the most austere OF all
monastIc brotherhoods.
doubt IL even Father Dastis could tell
the real name Of Brother Josephus, or the
exact place and circumstances of his
birth, and I am quite positive that he
would not II he could.
What he did tell me was that he came
into the world in an aristocratic quarter
Of Paris at the moment Of the French
Revolution. that his parents were sacri-
feed to the blood-letting mania OF that
day, and that the boy, like many other
young mobiles of his day, grew up under
the spell OF the great Napoleon, who, be-
came. in time. an object of almost
idolatrous worship to him.
He was a mere boy when Friedland wae
won, but Il was not many months after
that battle that he was carrying a KNAPP
sack in the rsn6s OF regiment that had
been recruited from the Valley Of the
The Washington times., 1902-05-18
EVEN UNTO DEATH HALE

Loire, where his grandmother still live,
on the one piece OF property that re
mained to the family.
Promotion WAS rapid matter in thos,
days of continual wars and much KILN,
of superior officers. and there was not
single one OF the hot-blooded yount
Frenchmen who rallied in thousand!
about the Naroleonic eagles that did nor
go into battle with vision of marshal's
baton before his eyes.
This one rose rapidly. aided a little BY
his aristocratlc name and a great dea
by his own dash and bravery, until al
twenty-three. he was colonel of a regi-
ment. and marching gayly with the rest
of the doomed army toward Moscow
What happened on this campaign that
changed the whole current OF his life
even Father Dastis does not pretend to
say, and at this late date it matters
but little.
Certain II is, however, that when the
remnants of that great invading host
came back to France the gallant and
handsome young colonel was not at the
head OF his now decimated regiment, nor
had he been left behind with the thou
sands Of his compatriots who perished
from cold and hunger, and the bullets OF
the Cossacks.
His name had bean taken from the army
rolls and from That time he was as one
dead TO his old comrades in arms and to
the gay world of fashion in Paris.
What Father Dastis does know. how
ever, is that while his sudden disappear
ance from the life that he had once held
SO dear was still a topic of conversation
In many Partisan club and boulevard.
young man of soldierly bearing and with
the traces OF great mortal sorrow writ
ten plainly across his face presented him
self at famous monastery in the south
of France and asked permission to join
the brotherhood.
His request was granted, the iron gates
closed forever on the dashing and gallant
young officer of the First Empire, and
Brother Josephus entered upon his life
long struggle with the worldly elements Of
his nature
For nearly forty years that struggle
and then the one-time soldier in company
with others of his order sailed for Amer
lea and journeyed far into the heart of a
new country where they established the
monastery which still fourishes at the
present day.
You may know" said Father Dastis at
this stage OF the discourse, as he added
few drops of brandy to his cup of black
coffee. that It has been said that the
Jesuits war with the world, while the
Trappists war with the flesh, and may
add on 10y own account. that we all war
with the devil.
Now /. myself, have visited both the
monastery In the south of France In which
Brother Josephus took his VOWS. and the
one in this country to which he was after
ward transferred, and. In spite of the
austerity Of the life. in spite of the COM
plete ab,ence Of everything that you
worldlingn here in New York-or for that
matter In London, Paris, or Berlip-class
under the name of pleasure, in spite OF
the perpetual silence that hangs over
everything. can ruthfully say that some !
The Washington times., 1902-05-18

toned to avoid any embarrassment, e
steer clear of aught that might embroi
him in delays? What would he say to m,
now, trudging along on this wretchet
night, the rain falling and the mud rising
Leading horse that bore a burder
dropped from / knew not where and clog
ging my progress in this ridiculous fash.
ion? The thought of the rain made me
turn instinctively. and taking my cape
coat from my back, lean up and throw IL
over my companions shoulders. But il
had no sooner touched her than She cried
out:
Il will not wear it! You need it. and ]
have n thick cape"
you will be drenched to the skin in no
time | said, firmly, as held it in place.
''If you do not take it instantly, sir. l
will throw it in the mud" she answered.
l walked along without word. 1t
sec med that this little baggage had the
power to irritate me beyond measure.
"Will you take it?'' she cried, in a vi
brsnt voice.
mo. / will not" exclain ed, IN quite
as defiant tone.
"0h, very well," said she, and herewith
tossed my best, my only coat into the
Tarrytown mire, as if it had been the
peel OF an orange.
stopped moment with anger that was
OH the point of bursting forth. Then l
stopped. picked up the coat, threw it over
my shoulders, and strode up to Rogers
in (.Nd In I
knew little or nothing of women, never
having seen many. never having known
any well. for my mother had died when
was boy. and sisters had none. But
never suspected women of such behavior
,s this. and the knowledge w;is anything
but pleasant
would then and there gladly have left
lier alone with Roger If / had dared.
What was l to do? What could / do on
arrival at the tavern? And then my
thoughts turned to discover the method
should pursue to get rid Of my strange
burden. ! would wait until the arrival
of her servants and then leave. go on
10 some other point. bad night as 1t was
anything to get myself up toward Fish
kill and alone.
Here was l. Merton Balfort, of Put
Iam's division, walking up the Hudson
River, leading bedraggled woman in the
worst OF nights to a mythical inn. which
might not exist at all for aught / knew,
in country overrun with Skinners-I, on
a mission to General Washington, the i'm
portance of which ! could only gather
from Putnam's instructions when he gave
me the letter and told me how much speed
and sagacity meant
rs II very muddy"
could scarcely recognize the voice, It
had so changed All the tears. all the
fear, seemed to have disappeared and in |
their place something strange, very
strange, had come.
"oh, no, madam; the road is clear as |
floor, and the sun is fast drying up my
wet Clothes" ] answered, too angry, too /
worried to be even civil
heard a slight sound as of the sudden |
drawing in of breath, but no other re-
sponse came as we moved slowly on. until |
at bend of the road We came suddenly !
upon the tavern, as the creaking sign over
the door designated-a small. common
looking house rambling off against the
side of a hill\in as forsaken and silent
a spot as ever villain selected for foul
deed. There was nothing for it, however,
The Washington times., 1902-05-18
y cA TALE OF LOVE cAND cADVENTURE ~
SEARS. cwshtr by Do Mad

serious fight do to cool the wine -heate
brains of men in such riotous times a
these. For my part. turned to the girl
to find her looking up at me with undis
guised fright In her eyes.
keep close by the fire." said / quick
ly; there is naught to fear" - though
there was enough and to spare. For wha
might happen when had settled this one
/ could not tell.
! A strange little smile passed over her
face at what had said. and then she
| answered:
IL will. But can you ight?"
Now, I do not know why it should. but
| it did, cut me to have a question flung at
me as | was on the point Of going into {
struggle that she alone had brought upon
me. 1t might have seemed that she could
think of someone but herself as such a
moment; but. as have said, I do not
understand the working OF a woman s
mind. So that. whatever 1 may have
thought, only said:
I'VE shall soon see, mistress, and for
your sake. at least. can but try
She looked straight into my face again
for q moment, and then moved over to the
fireplace without n word.
Now, then, sir, are you ready?" asked
my man, and | answered by moving into
the middle of the now cleared room.
liked it not in any way. The lights were
bad. At best twas but n fog. and mar
cannot be blamed for wishing a good
If.,h. otal =
side of the room could see five thievish-
looking knaves standing together, and
what | might expect OF them at any mo-
ment could not be guessed.
Then too, good swordsman as was
and tbs no conceit that makes me say
so, for I had had three years of work by
day and night, and half a dozen before
them of constant practice with my ia
ther, Captain Balfort, of the Indian wars
but. good swordsman as l might be. no
fight is surety. and knew nothing OF
my antagonist. excepting that he was
partly under the Influence Of liquor. II
fell. what might not become of the girl
what might not the papers III my boot
mean to him. and those to whom he be-
longed. And 1t soon appeared to whom
he belonged. for he crossed my sword at
once saying:
And now for myself and for the King.
Watch out. you bastard. for I am the |
best of men to play with this tool,"
And. indeed, he was a master !
hand. could tell at the first thrus.
that he was better than /. and ha(
he been empty of liquor, this tale and my |
own life had ended there and then in |
that dirty room. He was inside my guard |
A dozen times in the first two minutes.
as we circled round each other, playing
for the light OF single lantern
that hung over the outer door.
Still. l was growing calmer and had
begun to gauge him better when he slipped
over my thrust and ripped the shoulder of
NY coat with a sudden and a true stroke.
Then, on the instant. l heard a stifed
FRY. and glancing by his head saw the
girl standing by the fire. leaning forward.
Ter hands nervously clasped together at
Ter throat, her hood down upon her
and look of terror in her
eyes.
"Ah." said the wretch, my lady
yhimpers. does she? Fear not, I'll give
Ter comfort when thou hast gone to hell"
Twas a spur that made me mad to
hink on. realizing as | did that he had
Ill but done for me that moment, and |
The Washington times., 1902-05-18

but to alight. and in moment with
neither word nor look. she had slipped of
Rogers back and walked straight into the
main room of the hostelry, and l after
her,
The Washington times., 1902-05-18

Copyright, 1902. by James L. Ford)
The Union times. [volume] (Union, S.C.) 1894-1918, 1902-11-07
News Notes From Eta Jane.

ETA JANE, Nov. 3.-This Congress
farmer as we'll as lawyer. Con-
gressman Finley, who has represent
ed it for two terms and is reelected
for the third term, raised one hun
dred and twenty bushels Of onions Oh
his farm near Rock Hill this year,
which he sold for 81 per bushel. Mr..
Finley raises more wheat than any
body on the same amount Of land.
Two years ago he raised about 40
bushels to the acre.
In my letter last week the types
made me say "Rev. Mr.. Creech will
not return to the Kelton circuit for
another year, etc." when really the
whole sentence should have been pre-
ceded with perhaps" I make this
correction lest the good brother and
the Conference might think that l
had taken the matter in hand and
was going to have some changes made
anyhow. / feel assured that the
work Mr.. Creech has done and Is
still doing has made him quite popu-
lar elsewhere, and efforts will be
made to get him on other work. l
don't believe this church he is now
I supplying will consent to it, for he
cas- done too much work for them
and we know il other denominations
had a say in it. he would remain where
he is for two years longer.
Messrs. Robert and Warren Whis-
onant, OF Hickory Grove, are selling
securing brooms in this county.
am truly sorry to hear.of Mr.. G..
Walton Whitman's death. It seems
| as If the present year has been one
in which more than the average num-
Der Of deaths of prominent men have
taken place, and no place has suffer
ed more than Union county in this
respect, Tie editor Of this paper
told great truth when he said there
were worse men than Walt Whitman.
Capt. King, the well known bridge
builder and contractor, has too, gone
' to join the vast throng on the other
side of the river. Death is no re.
spector of persons.
The committee are making arrange
ments to have Salem church newly
weather boarded and painted.
Mrs. Jimmie Strain is quite sick
She has been bad of for two weeks
Rev. w. H. White preached al
Salem Sunday morning and at night
His morning text was Gal. 2:19, ant
the subject of his discourse at night
was the life and character Of David
Good congregations attended botl
services. Master Willie, Mr.. White
little son, accompanied him upol
this visit. VoX.