The Logan Republican. [volume] (Logan, Utah) 1902-1924, 1904-09-03

uo" Nue Dpuutl1ul little city
of Nincennes on the Wabash, the de-
caying remnant of an old and curiously
gnarled cherry tree known us the
Roussillon tree, le ccriser de Monsieur
Roussfllon, as the French inhabitants
called it, which as long as 1t lived bore
fruit remarkable for richness of flavor
and peculiar dark ruby depth of color.
The exact spot where this noble old
Seeding from la belle France tiourished,
declined and died cannot be certainly
pointed out. for In the rapid and happy
growth of Nincennes many landmarks
once notable, among them le cersier
de Monsieur Roussillon, have been de-
stroyed and the spots where they stood,
once familiar to every eye in old Vim
cennes, are now lost in the pleasant
confusion of the new town.
The old, twisted, gum embossed
cherry tree survived every other dis
tinguishing feature of what was once
the most picturesque and romantic
place in Nincennes. Just north of ii
stood, in the early French days. low,
verandas overgrown with grapevines.
This was the Roussillon place, the most
pretentious home in all the Wabash
country. Its owner was Gaspard Rous-
sillon. a successful trader with the In
dams. He was rich, for the time and
the place, influential to II degree, q
man of some education. who had
hrDt witch Ia, To, lao Il
bundle of books and IA taste for read
ing.
1t is not known just when Nincennes
was first founded, but most historians
make the probable date very early in
the eighteenth century, somewhere be-
tween 1710 and 1870. In 1910 the
Roussillon cherry tree was thought by
a distinguished botanical letter writer
to be ut least fifty years old, which
would make the date of its planting
about 1850. Certainly, as shown by the
time stained family records upon which
this story of ours is based, it was a
hourishing and wide topped tree in
the early summer of 1878, its branches
loaded to dropping with luscious fruit.
So low did the dark red clusters hang
at one point that tall young girl
standing on. the ground easily reached
the best ones and made her lips purple
with their juice while she ate them.
That was long ago, measured by
what has come to pass on the gentle
swell of rich country from which Vim
cennes overlooks the Wabash. The
new town hourishes notably and its
appearance marks the latest limit of
progress. Electric cars in its streets,
electric lights in its beautiful homes,
the roar of railway trains coming and
going in all directions, bicycles whirl-
ing hither and thither, the most fash
ionable styles of equipages from
brougham to pony phaeton, make the
days of tiintlOck guns and buckskin
trousers seem ages down the past, and
yet we are looking back over but n
little more than 100 years to see Alice
Roussillon standing under II CHEEKY
tree and holding high a tempting clus-
ter OF fruit. while a short humpbacked
youth looks up with longing eyes and
vainly reaches for 1t. The tableau Is
not merely rustic; it is primitive.
Jump" the girl is saying in French
"Jump, Jean; jump highr
Yes, that was very long ago, in the
days when women lightly braved what
the strongest men would shrink from
now.
Alice Roussillon was tall, 1.-The
strongly knit, with an almost perfect
figure, Judging by what the master
sculptors carved for the form of Venus,
and her face was comely and winning,
If not absolutely beautiful; but the
time and place were vigorously indi-
Gated by her dress, which was Of
coarse stuff and simply designed
Plainly she was a child of the Amer.
lean wilderness, q daughter of old Vim
cennes on the Wabash in the time that
tried mems souls.
Jump, Jeanv' she cried, her face
Piles, an arching of finely sketched
brows and the twinkllng of large blue
gray eyes.
Jump high and get them!'
While she waved her sun Drowned
hand holding the cherries aloft, the
breeze blowing fresh from the south
west tossed her hair so that some loose
strands shone like rimpled flames.
The sturdy little hunchback did leap
with surprising activity, but the
treacherous brown hand weny higher,
so high that the combined altitude of
his jump and the reach of his unnat-
urally long arms was overcome. Again
and again he sprang vainly into the
air comically, like a long legged, squat
bodied frog
"And you brag OF your agility and
strength, Jean" she laughingly re-
marked, "but you can't take cherries
when they are offered to you. What a
clumsy bungler you are!'
Il can climb and get some" he said,
with hldeously happy grin, and i'm
medlately embraced the bole of the
tree, up which he began scrambling al
most as fast as a squirrel,
When he had mounted high enough