Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1903-03-28

a dais, richly draped with royal velvet,
splendidly spangled with fieur-de-lis
M brave with armourial bearings.
The two men who were working at
the gallows having finished their job.
came out into the open space and
stretched Themselves. One was a tall,
thin, grave, poplar-tree of q man, clad
in sad-eolored clothes and conspicuous
for a long rosary of enormous beads
which he carried around his neck and
which from time to time he handled
with ostentatious sanctimony. The
other was as complete a contrast to his
companion as could be desired by the
humorous painter. He was a plump,
spry little fellow, brightly dressed and
bubbling over with merry, rogutsh
spirits, which formed the most fantastic
foil to the righteousness of his fellow
worker. Any good citizen of Paris,
arising belated, IL any such there may
have been, and hurrying to the walls to
know how THU IS went for the kings
cause. would ave recognized readily
enough in these two strange opposites
two of the most dreaded Of the
myrmidons of Tristan rHermite, no less
than his two chief hangmen, Trois-
Echellos and Petit-Jean. Trols-Echelles
was the long, ~cadaverous hangman;
Politician was the stout, droll hang
man, but when II came to a push and
a pinch, both were hangmen n hung
in the same manner, If not with the
same Petit-Jean pulled a
fiagon of wine from under the platform
of the gallows. lifted it to his lips,
drained a mighty draught, sighed with
satisfaction, and held GU the bottle
to his brother craftsman.
Drink and be merry"
Trols-Echelles, making gestures OF
protestation with his head out taking
the bottle with his hand none the less,
drew a deep daught from it's throttle
and sighed as sadly as his friend sighed
gladly.
II will drink but l cannot be merry.
What's the good Of building a noble
gallows II nobody looks at it? One
might as well be building on a church."
Petit-Jean laughed good-naturedly.
"All Paris is on the walls watching
the battle. Lucky Paris!'
Trois- Echelles laughed ill-humoredly.
Not sc lucky IL We don't win the
battle"
Petit-Jean was complacent.
whichever wins will need us to hang
the losers. Look at the bright side,
man"
Trois- Echelles fumbled his beads
furtively.
"Ive lost heart, 1 tell you. l haven't
hanged a man for a week"
AS ne mourned over THIS ~lancn
retrospect, the door of a little house
hard by the church opened and an old
woman, propping herself on a crutch
stick, came hobbling slowly across the
open space towards the church. Petit
Jean knew her we'll enough, for they
both lodged In the same house and both
on the same floor of attics. He knew
she was the mother of the greatest
scapegrace in all Paris, a rascal named
Francois Villon, who had disappeared,
Heaven alone knew where, to the old
lady's great despair. He saluted her
good humoredly.
Good morrow to your nightcap,
mother. Have you found o III lost
Sheep"
Mother Villon shook her head visit
fully.
They say he is b%anished, but he has
sent me money, bless him! though 1
touch none of it, lest 1t be badly come
by"
Trois- Echelies stopped fumbling his
beads n advanced toards her, ex-
tending his hand.
Give 1t to me to spend on masses?"
he asked SIMULTANEOUSLY.
Petit-Jean danced between them.
Lend Ii to me for drink money" he
urged.
CONTINUED Next Week.)