Newport weekly independent., 1902-12-26
The Chemist of
 the Refinery By :. RHETT ROMAN

THE chemist stood watching a blue
 fluid boiling in a glass tube over . spirit lamp, as it turned to a deep purple, then violet, then settled to pure white, and the test being over, poured out the liquid, carefully ex- tinguished his light, washed the thin crystal receptacle, placed it method 1cally in rack, where others of curi- ous forms were ranged upside down, and walking over to desk began ciphering out the analysis of sucrose and glucose in the cane juice, being converted into various grades of sugars in the Central refinery
 And all the while an undercurrent Of thought took him to other times and other scenes and turned back the calendar of years which represented esrly ambitions and hopes, and was glorified by romance, and the all but possession of youths dearest attain ments.
 The chemist sighed unconsciously while his eye ran over the figures, and his brain made it's rapid calcula- tlons, and he gave orders to a lad who was there ro do his bidding. to go into the houSe for other samples of juice.
 The laboratory stood a short dis tance from the refinery.
 It was small room filled with chemical apparatus, a wooden chair and a desk, and the chemist slept in an adjoining one, which was neat and clean and bare.
 The chemist was young man and handsome. He was clean-shaven an1 eminently aristocratic in face and bearing. He had a firm set mouth and large brown eyes, profoundly melancholy. just then, but with a red light in them which indicated a dan ger signal to be cautious. a warning to the wise not to get into his way.
 Quiet and talking very little to the other men, yet always courteous, the chemist had managed to impress the conviction on the superintendent, the Belleona refinery that he knew his own business thoroughly, would in terfere with no one, nor would put mp with any intermeddling with his affairs.
 To his directions, given in quiet tones, to "lime" or not to lime, to add or reduce the sulphur and others necessary to convert the ugly, graz fluid pouring from the rollers into clarified cane juice sugar, whitened in whirling turbines, then packed in to long rows of barrels in the finish ing room. were listened to and obeyed with promptitude which clicited much approval from Will Hams, the superintendent.
 The whistle of the refinery told that it was 12 o'clock and time for i change of watch.
 The lad, Jean Batiste, yawned audi bly,, and with an air of relief depos- itcd his last row of samples to be given that night on the table, and went out.
 The monotonous rumble of the ma the cane, as it was let down noisilv OF the carrier, an occasional order shouted out under the shed, and the monotonous singing, in the melan- choly minor tones, of some of the hands. as they worked at the cane. spreading it out so as to facilitate the grinding of the great rollers of the mill. were the sounds which came to the chemist as he made his tests, and the slow hours passed.
 There was no curtain: over the wide window of the laboratory, look ing eastward, and the scene outside bathed by the light of a November moon, was calmly seductive.
 The dull rumble of the machinery was monotonous, and there were nc more samples to test just then.
 The chemist sat down.
 There was sound of quickly trot- ting horses, of gay voices, a shout and call. rolling of wheels, and an animated hustle before the refin- cry door.
 "We've come to see you. Do say you are glad" a rich mellow voice called to the chemist, laughingly.
 Of course, it was Aurore. Nobody but Aurore ever had that wonderful vibrant voice. How cleverly she had wheeled the bays and pulled them up short at the step, while Fannie EIlerton screamed and the men ap- plauded.
 Miss Aurore says you Louisiana sugar people always brew a punch when callers come to see you while you are grinding"
 It was John Hartley who spoke.