The Spokane press. [volume] (Spokane, Wash.) 1902-1939, 1909-05-20

Der at the st. ReguluS after a most
wearisome night-journey from Chi
cago, woke him to blinking con-
sciousness of his uncared for COIL
dition.
He gaped, and yawned, and
struck at the binding ray, irritably,
but without effect, caught sight of
the clock, and sat up with an ex-
clamation of anger. The intrusion
of daylight before he desired it was
quite inexcusable-there was no
sign of his morning chocolate or
Courier-his dusty clothes were ly-
ing INTENDED where he had left
them--the room was empty save
for himself. Where the devil was
Jules! OF what avail was a valet
who did not attend to his duties!
He reached for the bell-push, and
pushed 1t hard.
A red-headed bell-boy appeared
with pitcher of distilled water
fresh from the ice.
Send my servant" said Mon
sieur, in elegant French. and the
boy, having bowed with great out
ward Difference, left him to brood
over his many wrongs.
1t was Jules advice which had
sent him off on a fools errand to
Chicago, that city of an almost in
conceivable repugnance to a Pa
risian of taste. He had travelled In
cognito, unattended, with the COM
mon herd. He had beeen subject
to all the discomforts democracy
ever invented to harass a harmless
aristocrat. He had not been able
to sleep in the train, and, when he
had once more reached the st.
Regulus, at half past eight in the
morning, he had to turn ON his own
hot bath and get into bed without
help-because Jules could not be
found. The recapitulation of these
and a number of other fermenting
grievances much inflamed Mon
sieur. And. even now. no one came
hurrying to his assistance. He rang
second time.
He was still absent-mindedly
pressing the button on the wall be-
hind him when the red-headed
youth reappeared, with a further
supply of ice water.
"Phwat's eatin' yez?" he demand
ed, his words not at all in accord
with his attitude of polite attention.
but safe in the knowledge that
Monsieur had no understanding of
Irish-American.
Are We stuck to tn wire, or thry-
in to bore hole through tn wall.
We frog -eatin' Frinchman?"
Holy name of a dog" cried the
object of his apostrophe in fervent
Gallo. Remove me these poison
GUS pitchers swiftly. Is it that you
think l have a stomach OF. leather,
rascal and fool! It is chocolate I
ask for. and Jules, my servant.
Send Jules Chevrel to me-. Thou
sand thunders! Was there ever
such Ounce. Where is Jules?
Send me Jules!"
"Awright," said the red-headed
boy, bowling still more deeply.
Quit yelpin', an kape yer wool on.
I'll dig out Jool, since it's him ye're
afther. Why didn't we say so be-
fore"
He once more withdrew. closing
the door delicately behind him. and
Monsieur threw himself back on his
pillows with great air OF exhaus-
ton. But when Jules Chevrel did
at length arrive, short, thick-set
man. close cropped after the
French fashion, carrying a cup of
chocolate in one unsteady hand,
and in the other a morning paper,
his shifty eyes, bloodshot and bill
ious. his employer had still enough
energy left to berate him roundly.
"You were drunk again last night.
Jules" he complained in conclusion
of a long TRADE to which the other
had listened indifferently.
~ was SOBER Jules contradicted
insolently.
Have the goodness to hand me
my boots,' Monsieur begged, get
ting half out of bed in his rage
over such futile untruth,
You don't want boots on your
bare feet" Jules objected. You
aren't going to battle in your boots.
What do you want your boots
for?"
II want them to kick you down
stairs with, you scoundrel!" cried
Monsieur. but Jules merely darted
glance of contempt at him and
went on with his own occupations
unmoved. He would have a card or
two to produce from his sleeve ere
he should be kicked down stairs.
and. in any case, the threat was a
threadbare metaphor.
Monsieur subsidized presently. tn.
king without objection the cup
which was handed to him in place
of the boots he had asked for, But
he did not altogether forego his