The Mathews journal. (Mathews C.H. [Court House]) 1903-1937, 1905-08-17


cSo& countrywomen in various
stages Of agitation appeared at their
doors, and began to call their children.
Bernard! Eugeuel come In at once.
Prosper. Claudine,-here, Immediately.
What, Joseph. you rogue, you will not
come? Rosalie, Just wait till | catch
your
Then other names were shouted loud.
~. Lucienne! Coralie. Pierre! Celes-
tim! The fathers did not say any.
thing, but pulled ears Fl eely, and more
than one boy screamed.
Evidently something of dire import
was about to occur, to thus rouse the
sleepy little borough from its natural
lethargy.
Suddenly there appeared at the far.
ther end OF the street. near the first
houses, queer, grotesque. almost mon
strous figure. 1t looked at first like a
heap of colored rags, propelled forward
by distressful jerks. The human frame
under this medley was, as one may i'm
agine, wretchedly put together. The
TWO legs, thin as switches, were of un-
equal length. and the knees knocked TO-
gether: the body was bent on the left
side, and one hip made sharp prom
, lnence. while on the other side over
thuhg Il shoulder OutrageOusIy loaded
with abrupt swelIings. The head, i'm
Its effort to keep upright, was OH n
line with the protruding hip. The two
long arms were like two tentacles. and
with them the creature was able 70
pick up aims without bending. A stick
held in one hand supported this heap
or tatters. The whole-warped. knotted
twisted, full Of depressions and promi-
nences-gave the impression of q cork
screw on legs.
To crown all, the head was oblonC.
ana the hair, scant and stiff, struggled
over the face. The mouth stretched
from ear to ear, and smiled uncon-
sciously and inc's>antly, in a manner
that was irrita:t": after awhile. Be
meath this sardonic grin hung n heavy
chin. and above it was nose with
wide nostrils. Flabby. overhanging
cheeks added if possible, to the ridic-
ulous appearance OF this lamentabIe
creature
There is Tortillon, There is Tor
tillon'' was repeated along the street.
and the village children crept into their
houses in fear.
IL was indeed n terrible fear that Tor
uilon reused wherever she went. MANY
called her 4 witch. Did she not seem
ltypically one? How-without the aid
OF the devil-could she find means to
i've In such distorted body? More
than one asserted that he had seen a
cloven foot under her ragged skirts.
she was accused also of travelling
through the air at night, with a broom
for steed. Indeed. she could not ap-
pear within six miles of a nIace with
out being suspected of stealing chill
dren TO Kill them i'm order to drink their
blood while holding her evil orgies.
And names were given. Jeanne
Gaudru'S daughter had been spirited
away; and Annette Soulas' little boy
had disappeared one morning after Tor
fTillon had passed. Some few. who were
not superstitious, had the bOldness to
say that Annette Soulas and Jeanne
Gaudru might themselves have done
harm to their own children. But it
was sufficiently proved-to the rest.
Tortillon was constantly seeking little
children; she must be watched.
As If to corrobOrate this, a little boy.
dirty and charming. appeared at the
third house. Possessed by an impera-
tive desire to see Tortillon, because
such pleasure was forbidden. he slipped
his head through the half-opened door.
slice of buttered bread between his
teeth.
oh VA
must have been that the sight of the
child was sweet to the miserable crea-
ture. for her eyes, usually half-closed,
now opened wide. and disclosed great
limpid depths, feminine and full of
caresses. The monster was indeed q
woman.
harsh voice broke forth: "Go your
way, Tortillon; so your way, or take
carer
The little one received slap. and
was drawn back. Uttering a sigh, the
beggar drew herself up, swung her
humps backward and forward, raised
the stick which served her as sup.
port, twisted herself from her heels to
her neck, and proceeded n step. A
second effort, a second step. Her eyes
lowered; she was as hideous as before.
1t was May. The sky was clear
blue, the earth all perfume. Never had
spring come i'll clearer garb; buds were
everywhere; birds caroled. One felt
life@full. ardent, mysterious-singing
through space!
The warmth became intense and JOY
&ous; the twelve strokes of the midday
&Ftruck lazily in the village steeple.
q TortiAon continued her way with diff
iculty. She reached the door of the
= parsonage at last-quite exhausted. 1t
vas the custom of the curate 10 give
er once a week silver piece. a loaf
bread and some fragments from the
bile.
she was about to touch the bell when
e door opened. Marianne, the SER