Evening times-Republican. [volume] (Marshalltown, Iowa) 1890-1923, 1903-09-14

CQefF1eS, anu Wien lOoh OuL d PIG, dl
brown and hot, the red juice bubbling
out Of it so good smelling and tempting
do you know what l said to myself?"
"How could / know, my child?''
"Well, I thought this: Not single
bite Of that pie does Father Beret get
why SO, my daughter!"
because you said 1t was bad of me
to read novels, and told Mother Rous
silon to hide them from me. I've had
any amount Of trouble about it."
.sTa, TIA. Read the good books that
gave you. They will soon kill the taste
for these silly romances."
81 tried" said Alice. ~ tried very
hard, and it's no use. Your books are
dull and stupidity heavy. What do
care about something that queer lol
of saints did hundreds Of years ago in
times of plague and famine? Saints
must have been poky people, and it is
poky people who care to read about
them, | think. | like reading about
brave, heroic men and beautiful WON
en-. and war and love-"
Pere Beret looked away with curl
Gus expression in his face, his eyes half
closed
'And I'll tell you now, Father Beret,' y
Alice went on after pause, mo more
claret and pies do you get until I car
have my own sort of books back again
to read as please" She stamped hel
moccasin shod foot with decided en-
ergy.
The good priest broke into hearty
laugh, and. taking Off his cap of grass
straw, mechanically scratched his bald
head.
Although, as Father Beret had said
the suns heat was violent, causing
that gentle soul to pass his bundled
motion over his bald and bedewed
pate, the wind was momently freshen
ing, while up from behind the trees or
the horizon beyond the river cloue
was rising blue black, tumbled ane
grim against the Sky.
"Well," said the priest, evidently try
ing hard to exchange his laugh for g
look of regretful resignation, You viii
have your own way, my child, and
..Then you will have pies galore and
no end Of claretw she interrupted, al
the same time stepping to the withe
tied and peg latched gate Of the yard
and opening it. "Come in, you dear
good father, before the rain shall be
gin. and sit with me on the gallery
(the creole word for veranda) It'll
the storm is over"
There was not q photographers
camera to be had in those days, but
what if tourist with one in hanG
could have been there to take a snaI
shot at the priest and the maiden a:
they walked arm in arm to that squa
little veranda! The picture today
would be worth its weight in frs
water diamond. 1t would include thu
cabin, the cherry tree. glimpse o.
the raw, wild background and sharI
portrait group of Pere Beret, Alice ant
Jean the hunchback. Each OF US cal
see them, even with closed eyes. Let
by that wonderful guide, imagination
we step back a century and more t.
look over a scene at once strangely at
tractive and unspeakably forlorn.
What was it that drew people ava.
from the old countries, from the cities
the villages and the vineyards OF beau
tiful France, for example, to dwell il
| the wilderness, amid wild beasts ant
/ wilder savage Indians, with rud'
cabin for q home and the exposure
and hardships OF pioneer life for thei
daily experience?
Men like Gaspard Roussillon are O
a distinct stamp. Take him as he was
Born in France, on the banks OF TIN
Rhone near Avignon, he came as
youth to Canada, whence he drifted OF
the tide of adventure this way ant
that, until at last he found himself
with a wife, at Post Vincennes, tina
lonely picket Of religion and trade
| which was to become the center OF civ
ilizing energy for the great northwest
ern territory. NJ. Roussillon had NJ
children of his own; SO his kind hear
opened freely to two fatherless ant
motherless waits. These were Alice
! now called Roussillon, and the bunch
back. Jean. The former was twelve
years old when he adopted her, chile
| Of Protestant parents, while Jean hat
! been taken, when mere babe, ate
/ his parents had been killed and scalpet
/ by Indians. Nine. Roussillon. profes
sional invalid, whose appetite neve
failed and whose motherly Kindness ex
/ pressed itself most often through
/ strains of monotonous falsetto scold
/ ing, was woman Of little education
and no refinement; while her husband
/ clung tenaeiously to his love OF books
especially to the romances most II
| vogue when he took leave Of France.
! M. Roussillon had been, In way
/ Alice's teacher, though not greatly IN
/ clined to abet Father BeYet in hi
kindly efforts to make a Catholic Of tn
girl, and most treacherously dispose'
toward the good priest in the matter 0
his we'll meant attempts to prevent he
4 from reading and rereading the afore
said romances. But for many week
past Gaspard Roussillon had been al
sent from home, looking after his trad
/ ing schemes with the Indians, and Per
Beret, acting on.-the suggestion OF tn
proverb about the absent cat and til
playing mouse, had formed an allianc
offensive and defensive with Mme
! ROussillon. in which it was strict