Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1907-10-24
CHAPTEp XIV

IdNc Hdu oHe Ol my men OA INT LLdCn AOA
the past two days. He now reports her
as residing in Bellevlle. I shall move
up into that neighborhood tonight, and
commence my Investigations. In the
meantime l want you to continue TO
watch Monsieur Chabot and report what |
steps our deluded friend the project Of
police is taking"
So they parted Cassagne to his lodg- !
ings 70 assume such dress as w0U!d |
harmonic with the humble quarters OF
1he town where he proposed to pursue !
his Investigations D'Auburon to his club, !
where he had an appointment with VI. |
jules Chabot, and in whose company he |
would presently repair to the drawing |
rooms of the Vicomte and Yicomtesse de |
Valair
At about half past eight the next even |
ing, anyone who had taken the trouble |
20 look might have seen enter the Rue |
Banquiere by it's western end, a man
dressed in rough garments, who looked |
like well-to-do workman, with his heavy |
shoes and lime-bespattered corduroys. he |
wore no collar on his check cotton shirt, |
but around his throat was loosely tied |
red pocket handkerchief. 4 bag contain |
ing a few tools was slung over his shout |
der.
Presently he stopped, ostensibly to pur-
chase some fruit, which a hawker in one |
Of the barrows in the middle Of the street |
was vociferousIy offering for sale. As
he stood there chatting in a friendly way |
with the peddler, however, his gaze in
reality fixed upon a scene before him |
unique even among the curious phases of |
ifa fo ha in, no
quiere.
In shop which in point of size was
double at least that of either of its ad- |
joining neighbors, a crowd of the very |
poorest of Belleville had gathered. There |
must have been thirty or forty men, wom-
and children inside the doors, at the
very least, and as many more waiting out |
side on the pavement.
Over this shop swung sign-board, on |
both sides of which was painted the figure
of hancock, in a white cap and apron, |
industriously carving an unnaturally red |
round beef; and underneath, apparently |
ginharmed by the steam and the gravy, |
Tor it was plainly to be read, was the |
democratic legend Il carve for the peo- |
pie"
Inside the shop a gentleman similarly |
habited, but trife less corpulent and
dignided than his counterfeit presentment |
ON the sign, was at that moment actually |
engaged in the very occupation which the
legend advertised. He was engaged in
carving for the people
In place, however, of operating upon |
a round of beef, he was engaged in slic- |
ing, with great rapidity, meat pudding. |
Is, tln hJrY1-
CRY crowd waiting to devour it, was an
object worth looking at. 1t was at least |
FIVE feet long and as thick as a ships |
cable. As the cook cut off slice, a |
stout woman of about fifty-fve years of
age would seize it, wrap it up in piece |
of newspaper, snd hand it to someone in
the crowd not letting go of the appetite
ing morsel, however, until she had re-
.ceived in exchange therefor two coins i'll
copper, a great heap of which lay in |
drawer beside her.
The workman at the huckster's barrow |
finished his apple and bought another
The intent gaze which he kept fixed upon
ahe cook shop at length attracted the at
tention of the vender
'You seem to be amused" he said
Have you never seen a pudding cut be-
fore?"
Not such pudding as that" replied
the man with the bag It's quite a sight,
amt it? Why, there's another
That's nothing. They'll keep that
fixing up for an hour yet. Old Mother
Merchants buildings have a reputation,
tell you, in the Rue Banquiere."
1.-THE shop, then, belongs to Madame
Merchant, who | suppose, is that old
iady?"
YES and not only the shop, but the
house as we'll. She has not been cutting
buildings ali these years for nothing.
She's pretty good-hearted woman.
though, and nobody begrudges her her
money. In the winter time she lets me
sell hot pies right in front of her shop
here though it's against her own trade"
The glare of the petroleum lamps flick
cred up less brightly. The night crept on
apace. The fierce glare of the street
changed to a dingy twilight 1t was as
if the footlights had been turned halfway
down in some realistic melodrama. The
crowd melted away at last.
Only the stub end of one of the pud-
iinss remained on the greasy counter
Yhe drawer was piled full of coins. 4
Nretched woman, gaunt with famine was
The only customer left She was bargain
InC for a bone with which to make soup
Her two starving children, clinging to
hcr tattered gown. eyed with wistful looks
the remnant of the pudding; but it was
a luxury beyond their mothers means.
The workman took up his bag. and
oodding goodnight TO the huckSter. cross
ed over into the shop. The man in the
can and apron was resting from his la
bors. The workman called to him and he
came up to the counter.
"A slice of pudding" said the work
man.
The man in the cap and apron cut it
There's no more paper" he said
You'll have to take it in your hands.
Its nearly cold now, anyway, Why didn't
YOU come in when it was hot? 1t was
grand then. | tell YOU"
The wretched mites clinging to the tat
tered skirts of their mother moved re-
suctantly toward the door The woman
had secured her bone. Soup in the imme-
.diate future was of course excellent; but
here was meat pudding being eaten under
their very eyes. They would have liked
30 stay a while. Perhaps the workman
would have dropped some.
lou are rlSht' Salu the man Win
the bag. These buildings are better hot.
Here, little girl. Tve-I've lost my APP
petite"
Give it to me- cried the gaunt wom-
an. Il will divide it fairly
mo, let the children have that" re
piled the man with the bag. Cut an
other slice for madame"
The woman burst into tears. Even
the man with the cap and apron was
affected; but it was at the generosity of
the man with the bag.
1t was getting late. The Rue Ban
auiere was becoming deserted. The buck
aters outside had covered up their wares
and were beginning to take their depart
gre.
The man with the bag, however, still
ioitered in the cook shop. He had made