The Green Forest tribune., 1909-09-17

"Ah, Is that so? and the king smiled He had but that day re- ceived a letter from fair cousin, then residing at Ostend, in which she had said:
 We royalties of the blood are at discount here. All the world wor- ships at the shrine of La Reine dos. tend. the wife of that good republican savant, Mons. Brusse." And the rec tor went on in piquant description of the reign of Mime. la Baronne de Brusse.
 Come, comet" said the king. Dine aboard my yacht tonight. Nay, come and join me for a short yachting cruise I know we could be great friends you and l."
 T thank your majesty" said the late plain Mons Brusse, who a year before would frankly have told the monarch that he did not approve of the use of national funds for the sup port of private yachts, even for his majesty. But a sudden fear crept into the heart of Mons. le Baron de Brusse. Your majesty is not going to Etretat?" he asked.
 "No-oh, mol" was the terse an swer. But Ostend, certainly"
 Then an aide-de-camp transmitted orders immediately that state room be prepared aboard the royal va ht for his excellency. Dr. the Baron de Brusse, K. G. Nj. G., K. I. E., K. c. G. D., and all the other letters attached to the barons four-and- twenty orders of knighthood.
 But his majesty wrote in his own handwriting a letter to his fair cousin, in which she alone was apprised of the day on which the royal yacht should come to anchor in the port of Ostend. And for that night his ma jesty requested the grand duchess to give dinner, asking, of course, la Reine d'Ostend, and to keep plate for him and one for one of his suite. And then the yacht weighed anchor and stood out toward the Skager Rack. A week or so, and the sharp sun and wind turned his majesty and his guest shade darker with a healthy tan, as the two men fished together from the same small boat. Laughter came spontaneously. Everything was rose- colored, because the king found it re- freshing to see things through the newly opened eyes of the savant.
 And then the anchor dropped gently into the chalky mud that forms the bottom of the harbor of Ostend The Casino was crowded. On tke balcony were the kings cousin and Mme de Brusse, both clad in marvellous gowns. Each had her binoculars to her eyes when the anchor splashed into the wa ter. The broad, stalwart figure of the king, in yachting uniform, could be seen on the bridge of the yacht, but beside him lowered a more massive figure
 If it were possible! It looks most like my Pierre Antoine" said the baronne. Then she laughed gayly, that sweet, silvery chime of notes which had caught Ostend by the heart because of its sweetness, its purity, it's truth. Imagine my good republican Pierre Antoine on a kings yacht!"
 The guests were assembled in me grand duchess drawing-room when his majesty and his aide-de-camp arrived. Behind them rose the powerful figure of the ex-republican, Mons. Brusse. Mime. la Reine d'Ostend, as every one called her, was standing, gowned in creation of the softest pinks and blues and greenS-a riot of color re- tiected again from the coronet that graced her shapely head and from the ropes of diamonds that bound her slen. der, unbroken throat.
 She raised her eyes as she rose from her low curtsey, to behold the vividly blushing face of Pierre An. toine Brusse, clad in his uniform of one of the Immortals of France. be- dizzened with the ribbons and stars of a dozen orders. And then she laughed again, against all the rules of court etiquette, shattering the tradi- tions of thousand years. But the silvery peal rang out clear over the drawing-room, and into the heart of every one who heard it eternal youth seemed to spring for moment. The king stepped forward.
 Your majesty of Ostend," he said, may I present my friend, his excel lency the Baron de Brusse?" And his eyes sparkled. A daintily gloved hand was held out, and de Brusse knelt with a grace odd in a backbone stiff for many years with republicanism Your majesty," he said, and he add ed so low that none heard but one. and my sweetheart!"
 q think we had better dub Mons. de Brusse The Prince Consort,'" said his majesty.
 "Ah, my Pierre," exclaimed la Bar onne as they sat on the balcony of her villa, you do not think me too frivolous?"
 "No, my Valerie" he answered; flor all my life I have envied the light-hearted butterflies their pleas. ure."
 Then" she cried, i've will frivol on into our graves"
 "Yes, my Valerie" he answered back, and caught her to him. Togeth. CT their laughter rang out through the night air, his melodious bass echoing her silvery peals.
 Joe Miller's Intention. "But I can't see," said the friend to old Joe Miller, after the latter had shown him the manuscript of his Jest Book, why you ever took the ir,on tO o1l al tob D