Butler citizen. [volume] (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, 1904-04-07

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 photographers
camera to be had in those days, but
what If tourist with one in hand
could have been there to take a snap
shot at the priest and the maiden as
they walked arm in arm to that squat
little veranda, The picture today
would be worth its weight in a first
water diamond. 1t would include the
cabin, the cherry tree, a glimpse of
the raw, wild background and a sharp
portrait group of Pere Beret. Alice and
Jean the hunchback. Each Of us can
see them, even with closed eyes. Led
by that wonderful guide, Imagination,
we step back a century and more to
look over scene at once strangely at
tractive and unspeakably forlorn-
What was 1t that drew people away
from the old countries, from the cities,
the villages and the vineyards of beau
tiful France, for example, to dwell in
the wilderness, amid wild beasts and
wilder savage Indians, with a rude
cabin for a home and the exposures
and hardships Of pioneer life for their
daily experience?
Men like Gaspard Roussillon are of
a distinct stamp. Take him as he was.
Born in France, on the banks OF the
Rhone near Avignon, he came as
youth TO Canada, whence he drifted on
the tide of adventure this way and
that, until at last he found himself.
with n wife, at Post Vincennes, that
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 no
children of his own; so his kind heart
opened freely to two fatherless and
motherless waits. These were Alice,
now called Roussillon, and the hunch-
back, Jean. The former was twelve
years old when he adopted her, child
of Protestant parents, while Jean had
been taken, when a mere babe, after
his parents had been killed and scalped
by Indians. Mime. Roussillon, profes-
sional invalid, whose appetite never
failed and whose motherly kindness ex-
pressed itself most often through
strains of monotonous falsetto scold-
ing, was a woman of little education
and no refinement; while her husband
clung tenaciously to his love of books,
especially to the romances most In
vogue when he took leave of France.
NJ. Roussillon had been, in a way,
Alice's teacher, though not greatly in
oil IN nhA E,@l
kindly efforts to make Catholic Of the
girl, and most treacherously disposed
toward the good priest in the matter Of
his well meant attempts to prevent her
from reading and rereading the afore-
said romances. But for many weeks
past Gaspard Roussillon had been alb
sent from home, looking after his trad
ing schemes with the Indians, and Pere
Beret, acting on the suggestion OF the
proverb about the absent cat and the
playing mouse, had formed an alliance
offensive and defensive with Nine.
Rouzsilloif, in which IL vras strictly
Stipulated that all novels and roIianrrs
were to be forcibly taken and securely
hidden away from Mile. Alice; which,
to the best of Nine. Roussillon's abili-
ty, had accordingly been done.
Now, while the wind strengthened
and the softly booming summer shower
came on apace, the heavy cloud lifting
as it advanced and showing under ii
the dark gray sheet of the rain, Pere
Beret and Alice sat under the clap
board roof behind the vines OF the We
randa and discussed what was gener-
ally uppermost in the priests mind
upon such occasions, the good of Alice's
immortal soul-a subject not absorbing
ly interesting to her at any time.
"Ah, my child" he was saying, you
are sweet. good girl, after all, much
better than you make yourself out to
be, Your duty will control you. You
will do it nobly at last, my child"
True enough, Father Beret, true
enoughr' she responded, laughing.
"Your perception is most excellent,
which will prove to you Immediately"
She rose while speaking and went
into the house.
81 will return in minute or two
she called back from a region which
Pere Beret well knew was that of the
pantry. Don't get impatient and 60
away"
Pere Beret laughed softly at the pre-
posterous suggestion that he would
even dream OF going out in the rain,
which was now roaring heavily on the
loose board roof, and miss cut OF
cherry pie "a cherry pie of Alices
making! And the Roussillon claret
too, was always excellent. "Ah, child,
he thought, your old father is not go
ing away"
She presently returned, bearing on a
wooden tray ruby stained pie and
short, stout bottle fanked by two
glasses.
"Of course I'm better than l some
times appear to be-" she said almost
humbly. but with mischief still in her
voice and eyes, "and 1 shall get to be
very good when have grown old. The
sweetness of my present nature is In
this pie"
She set the tray on a three legged
stool which she pushed close to him.
"There, now," she said, "let the rain
come. You'll be happy, rain or shine
while the pie and wine last, I'll be
bound"
Pere Beret fell to eating right heart
lily, meantime handing Jean a liberal
piece of the luscious pie.
'It is good, my daughter, very good
indeed" the priest remarked with his
mouth full. mime. Roussillon has moi
neglected your culinary education
Alice filled glass for him. 1t was
Bordeaux and very fragrant. The bou'
quet reminded him Of his sunny boy
hood I'm France, of his journey up to
Paris and of his careless, joy brimmed
youth in the gay city. How far away
how misty, yet how thrillingly sweet II
all was! He sat with half closed eyes
awhile, slipping and dreaming.
The rain lasted nearly two hours, but
the sun was out again when Pere
Beret took leave of his young friend
They had been having another good
natured quarrel over the novels, and
Nine Roussillon had come out on the
veranda to join in.
"Ive hidden every book of them,
said madame, stout and swarthy
woman, whose pearl white teeth were
her only mark OF beauty. Her voice
indicated great stubbornness.
Good. good: you have done your