Waterbury evening Democrat., 1906-05-11
THE INSPIRATION OF JEAN WGN0L
By FRANCOIS COFFEE
eo.pyr,shs, lsss. by Joseph ,. sovl.s,


 Vignol had been a writer of penny dreadful and blood-and-thunder fictioI for the family story papers. He deal exclusively in conspiracies, murders stolen wills, kidnapings and substitu' tions of babes in the cradle. His works are not so bad, of their kind. If yor ever have to go through long, tedious illness--which God grant you may not you might do worse than while away the hours of convalescence by reading his Mysteries of Menilmontant," ir two fat paper-covered volumes.
 Yet his practice was not large, and sometimes he found it difficult to dis pose of his copy" even at the most meager space rates
 His debut in letters had been ambi- tious enough. To this day there repose in the oblivion of dark corner of a bottom bureau drawer two early and un. published works, composed by him at the time when he had hair on his head and real artistic aspirations in his heart.
 Unfortunately, these were not nego- tiable in the literary market--and Jean Vignol had to live. It was in the Belle vile quarter of Paris, on the fifth floor of sordid tenement, that he had dwelt alone with his aged mother. who was 8 martyr to rheumatism. To earn little money-little enough. verily!-the poet had turned hack novelist, in the same dogged spirit that an art-school graduate who has failed at painting, takes to photogra- phy.
 While old Mamma Vignol lived, Jean, a model of filial piety, had plodded along contentedly enough. But since her death, two years ago, he was alone in the world-witAout parents or friends, an habitual stay-at-home;
 He was, at the time of which we write, sturdy little man of 47 years, beginning to grow pudgy, with heavy black beard, Socratic nose, pair of honest small eyes, and a few sparse bristles on the top of his otherwise denuded dome of thought.
 What a bother!" he exclaimed to himself on Christmas eve, as he mounted slowly to his fifth fioor-for he was slightly asthmatic. Here is the editor complaining that my latest, Behind the Bars wants action-mean- ing, of course, more bloodshed. Is life worth living?"
 Entering his forlorn apartment, he found . whole series of petty annoy ances awaiting him. In the first place his coke fire had gone out and he must start 1t afresh. Then, as he was east ing a regretful look upon the old pipes he was forbidden to smoke, his writ ing lamp flickered out. A new wick was required And, come to look, there were only two matches left in the box. .a,..,..
 Thunder and Mars!" growled Jean Vignol, letting go his strongest oath. Here am in pretty fix. A merry Christmas eve, to be sure! Shall l go down those five flights again for matches? No! rather than that, I'll borrow of my neighbor."
 His neighbor was Mere Mathieu, . poor old widow whose daughter, vau- deville actress abandoned by her hus- band, had died in childbirth the sum- mer before, leaving the infant to be brought up on the bottle by the afore- said Mere Mathieu. She supported her. self by sewing for department store. The novelist had helped her out" with a few francs on several occasions when her need had been greater than his own. Now he rapped at her door and called out:
 Mere Mathieu! can you lend me . few matches"
 He stopped short as the door opened and he looked in. There was the poor woman kneenng on the floor, busily engaged In rolling and tying up the hair mattress which she had taken from her bed, leaving revealed q limp looking ticS half filled with straw. Close by, the baby slept peacefully in 6 wicker cradle.
 Why. what are you up to now, Mere Mathieu? Going to move before rent day comes around?"
 "oh. no. NJ. vignol. I am just going to the pawn shop with this mattress 1t is good for ten francs. at least; I must hurry. for they close at eight"
 "What-and sleep on the straw7" "Yes: 1t won't be for the first time. You see, my younger sister. who is a widow like myself-the one who was wardrobe mistress at the varietes--has fallen II again. and they won't take her at the hospital because they say she is incurable. So I must help her . little-she has always been so good to me. In a week or so, when I get my fortnightly wages from the store. can have the mattress back again. All that bothers me now is-what to do with the baby while I 90 out Usually the janitor's wife takes care of il for me: but tonight being Christmas eve they have company to dinner and are going to celebrate the reveillon. So I don't know what to do with the young one.-
 Jean vignol showed signs of agita- ton. not to say emotion
 Don't do that. Mere Mathieu." he Don't 90 to the psvr shop. I have IS francs-here are ten of them. Go straight to your sister. As for the kid-veIl. you can leave him with ne. he sleeps like . church.