The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1903-09-26
The MINNEAPOLIS JOURNAL FICTION SUPPLEMENT-

sibe would him. ahead then?
He than half and further he the tall
white poplar that the church If
night WIZ is singing!
It is surely the kind that bites! Truly is much
afraid.
Below, in the hawthorne, there is something hiding
wicked with dagger and hidden under his big
cloak just the they in the fairy tales The long
of the moonlight scattered the and twisted
into shapes by the brar bushes Perhaps they
ghosts The stories of Jeanne the full of them
and Rene swears that there
YARDS TO hear be beast any
All OF sudden the wind playing in the branches Of
the briars blue rays moonlight
dance the It is ghosts
Cadet stops, petrihed.
go on he A horrible thought
to him. He back quickly and that
monsieur the not at home. 1T would be simple
and yet he cannot make his mind He lies
poorly; he blush.
be better to that Gene
We've grandmother and perhaps would it at
that But Rene But Uncle Henry Mdle chealer who
would laugh at him and show all her ugly yellow teeth! No.
it is utterly impossible And too. who had said:
"a has nothing his word,
He knows that man, VIII $ afraid
He would be dishonored respect
II he went back The little fellow goes :rave on and
begins to sing The sound of little children singing in the
night has something sinister in
kept him company Carefully he watched the night it
grew thicker and thicker him. tall briars
dered the road thcy that nothing
it was the Pickering OF the moonlight
The stops Cadet uters then is silent paler
than the round that watches him thru the branches
There at the end OF the path is STOPPING looking at
him. Surely he is brigand! Cadet takes STEP and then
another his ptoes, his throat frightened
fast together More and slowly his little feet
He draws the the brgand is only twenty
steps away The little fellows heart beats quickly then
almost stops he clenches his teeth his
makes himself as small possible All! oh heavens, the
$3.50 ~
Cadet does stop walking hurries to pass
the tall black who stands high that he will
haps not Cadet he slips
surely reached the feet;
is the moment when spite of him
self he raises his head to if he is observed.
foolish little laugh nervous laugh shakes the little
man: The brigand oh me, the black man! He has
branches and leaves It the holly, big holly
that has such beautiful red
Cadet does not laugh long. be
calm. The big me vevety heay-
and the road is all white blue
and that bites The little whisper
rustes in the branches All insects queer
grinding noises and and shiver There still many
things to make afraid
The big white poplar churchyard wall reflects
the moonbeams like polished silver, looks
merng waterfall It is still away
dred yards Cadet begins to quicker quicker
rushes past the the steps
quite out of breath The iron wire
round copper ring hangs shines piece
of glass Beside it, higher big ring makes
black spot the wall It is there that Henry
his horse Cadet pulls the copper ring beyond
of the steps veranda the little
bell sounds somewhat cracked but clear
voice Of dear old lady sounding so like
! the bell that rings in the daytime.
Under the steps thru the arbor over the gravel
abots The lock utters the scraping
noise Of old IRON hinges and slowly
opens WHO is there?" says Lisen, brusquey
Jesus Maria! At this of night! Is anyone sick
at Gazan?' ss.,'z>@ -.
mo, Lison. Uncle Henry me to tell monsieur the
that old Nanette is better
Come and tell him so, little one.'
And Lison's big red hand, all rough with
the fire and the stove and the cooking tightly
M the IT, be a his hss1 the
rather hold mamas soft hand Henry who holds
tightly Lisons hand beautiful yet just
good to take hold The garden the flow
smell feels green house and seems
beautiful paradise.
who is there, Lison?"
Monsieur the standing tall in the door
holds in his right hand big lamp circle
of yellow light into the thick darkness garden
huries towards him. dragging Lson whom he finally
in the middle path.
What here, Cadet, at this hour?,
"Od Nanette is all well Uncle 41enry wants his
To the of the good cure have read so many
troubled hearts, the little boys paor his
shining eyes tell their story.
Were not afraid Cadet?" asks without some
malice.
II came" answers Cadet who not confess
and who knows not how.
THAT well DONE, said the priest. chids brown
him water He does not
f6 to f