New-York tribune., 1903-05-11

of lie POcharo. SO gradual his decline toward
his narrow boots and his round weak face and
had remarked the change Then one night. as Gre
goire wound him. the key turned futiiely in the
table, lie Pochard made feeble gesture Of
raise his absinthe to his lips and reefing dizziIy
crashed down upon the floor. his debauchcs done
1t was a curious thing that in the face of this
unaccOuntable fashion lie Pochard had come
to be SO much part Of their association that in
rst time the niti7, change that Rad crept into the
less energy had been. the duness Of the eyes
wisp above the slough of destiny And Gregoire:
looking across al Jean knew thaJ the moment mad
some. and dropped his glance; ashamed lingering
the he tattered blouse Of lie P9cnard. -. -,.b
smile that was not smile 4 suppose we must
forgive him his faults now that he is gone. De
Then, as Gregoire made no reply. he added:
tu7 / have been doing too much. So we wifi sit
by the IRE nest1ce pas?1and tnou & snalt read 70
moths. have shown their winesf'
sPat fretfuliy and Jean. buried In the. largest
chair. winked at the sparks. and furtiyely. from
read ,haIf-heartedly with the lamplight cutting
hay wc @ en MS ddd @ asnry fpG o ms temples OH
He was critic little Jean le Cal. yet even he
wings OF this latest moth that GregoIre had pursued
and caught while stupid folk were sleeping so that
shifting brilliance Of many uninagined hues. but
in the face Of his friend And 50 subty keyed were
the strings OF their unspoken sympathy that night
Gregoire long before the manuscript was finished
aIa suQ6e1llS ne cast II rom lin Ia o ra1raS I {;
round, and sucked OUT its life exulting until 1t
lay Raskessd ssa and s dying & W5hng 5a ksT on the Goals
Gno5 the sTa fag0S Tbspsns Ma ashes
of his pages, whereat the sparks gnawed with IN
ished what have done I I shall never do again
absorbed
one is to catch night moths with such a tender
men see. that no ore little CLINT OF radiance
be missing from their wings one has need Of
mine. My father Of whom I have never spoken
TO thee-my father. who left me this gift OF trap
ping the thoughts that others not as they 1y.
yet love and cherish when they are caught and
the curse Of absinthe little Jean that is rot b
also trail and as the curse Was Subtle. so was it
also strong. ! have seen the end-long-long Now
knocked at the door OF my body and at the signal
The, Fiff has flown forth from the window of my
He paused and pausing smiled
he continued "in buying lie Pochard. For. in
truth, he was. my brotheT-my twin-ny soul; in the
him. Yet all along have seen mysslf, in 1,, that
etre ben! But now that he is gone 1 see that
must go, too-and in the same way my Jean in
the key OF inspiration turning uselessly IN the
He rose suddenly With shlver. and looked down
at Jean le Gal. For an instant he touched him on
H.
leaving the little architect gazing. wild eyed and
mute at the crnkling ashes of the last unwortniest
moth OF all.
During the days that followed lie Pochard stood
upon the mantel corner. They no longer touched
him, but left him. as IT were. a monument to his
folly
There was further trace in Gregoire's manner
of the mood which had loOsened his tongue on the
night Of his last reading. To Jean, who, In MS
simplicity stood ready with comfort and encour-
ageTnent. he seemed TO be in need OF neither.
Plainly, what he had said was but phase OF that
quisite pathos OF his "Danae' and his Tristan
and moreover. this one thing Nt1Ie Jean UaQ
learned-that his friend lived the moods ne wrote.
and that oftentines when what he said was seem
ingiy most personal he was posing for ms own
pen-a painter OF words drawing his reflection N
the mirror opposite So the vague alarm aroused
by his words died down, ana Jean once more
plunged into his work.
In those last days of the competition. his proJet,
laboriously buided detail by detail leaped into
completion with a suddenness startling even 10
himself He knew that it was goodLknew so with
the surprising enthusiasm OF his comrades at
the atelier. and the still more surprising com
mendation Of his patron. the great LaIoux him
self. whose policy was nil admirari whose frown
q habit and whose 'Bonif miracle. But even
Jean le Gal. with all his buoyant optimism wa. was
unprepared in conviction for those WORDS wn1ch
reverberated to his like thunder. beneath the
dome OF the InStttut. 80.
'Prix de Rome-Jean Fraissigne-Ateler Laiouxi
Would Gregoire never Gomez He asked h1Hlsei-
the question hundred times as he paced the noor