Little Falls herald. [volume] (Little Falls, Morrison County, Minn.) 1889-1950, 1909-08-13
o. UhCER1 AN Mind
~ MARY s. ELLIOTT.

BY MARY s.. ELLIOTT.
copyright. 1909. by American Press Assoc
citation.
Nine Tourget and her daughter Ce-
Gle were eating supper III their pretty
cottage when there came a knock at
the front door.
.'Cecile.' said the mother, Ego and
see who is there
Cecile opened the door and revealed
the figure Of stranger standing with
his back to the cottage. The girl wait
ed for him to turn, but since he did
not she coughed to attract his atten-s
ton. This failing, she said, Monsieur,
what can do for you?" Since he still
paid no attention to her. thinking him
to be deaf, she touched him on the
shoulder. Then he turned and looked
her in the face. He was Of small
stature, and his countenance was intel
lectual He looked at the girl with a
puzzled expression, but did not speak.
The girl repeated her question.
Il don't know" said the stranger at
last.
"Well, come in 1t is beginning to
rain''
He entered the house and sat down
by the fireplace. peering into the fire
as one in a dream.
Nine. Tourget looked at him inn
patiently and was about to say some
thing irritable when Cecile threw her
deprecatory glance. Then the latter
said to the stranger:
"Have you supped, monsieur?'
The man, as if awakened from a
dream. glanced up at her, smiled
faintly-the girl thought it very
pleasant smile-turned his big eyes up
on the supper, arose and took a seat
by the table. Cecile served him, and
he ate with the same preoccupied or.
rather, somnabulistic air he had main
tanned since his arrival. When he had
finished Nine. Tourget questioned him.
"From where do you Gomez"
81 started from B. this morning"
From B.? On foot?"
Eyes. No. believe had horse.''
"You believe you had horsey'
A puzzled look passed over the stran-
gers face Then he arose and, going to
the freside. fell into the same dreamy
condition as before. Cecile, reckoning
her mother to follow her, left the
room.
81 wonder If he is Ill orr the girl
began.
"He is either mental imbecile or is
shamming in order to secure food and
lodging. He may stay till morning,
but no longer. We are too poor to
take care of mental wrecks"
He is no impostor, mamma. am
tally weak. We must keep him till we
! can find out who he is and can turn.
him over to his friends"
During the evening the mother sat
by table knitting, the stranger on
one side of the fire, Cecile on the.
| other. Now and again he would turn
his glance from the flames and look
at Cecile. who, by the way, was very
comely. At 9 o'clock Nine. Tourget
| asked him II he would like to go to
bed. "Not yet" was his reply. 'I'm
thinking and haven't got through"
Cecile gave her mother a glance that
she would look after the poor man,
and Nine. Tourget went to bed. The
| stranger sat for an hour peering into
the fire, occasionally stirring the
GOALS with poker: Then suddenly he
seemed to return to normal con-
| ditfen. Cecile noticed the change and
expected an explanation. Turning to
her, he said:
you're a nice girl. Would you like
to marry me?'
Up to this time Cecile had hoped
that after all the stranger might be OF
healthy mental condition. Now she
gave that up. He must certainly be
insane. She realized the necessity Of
getting him to bed quietly. To humor
him she said: IF
II will consider your proposition and
give you an answer in the morning
that is. if you will 60 to bed
She arose, the stranger followed her,
and she conducted him to his room.
The next morning Cecile, looking
from her bedroom window, saw the
stranger walking in the yard. His
abstraction seemed to have left him.
At least it was not so pronounced.
At breakfast he was new man.
though his memory was evidently
badly impaired. He remembered to
have started from B. the morning
before on horseback, but could not re-
call what had become Of his horse.
Cecile, with palpitating heart. won
dered If he would remember having
proposed to her. Since his remarkable
recovery she secretly hoped that he
would. He manifested no disposition
to proceed on his journey and during
the morning sat by the fireplace with
something Of his previous abstraction,
but now he spent part Of his time
in making drawings in pencil on the
backs Of old letters he took from his
pocket Cecile spied upon them, but
could make nothing out Of them. They
were neither ffpuras nor lan6scanas