The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1910-01-24

send out by the smiling walters of the Cote d'or that night! Madame Casserole lured back the long absent smile to it's place above the encored chin: Monsieur Casserole again hovered over his guests with the hope that all well, this time certain of his replies.
 Dupree took mouthful of an omelet, and felt it melting into liquid delight His face grew suddenly sad. Margaret Gates happy again over her beloved escargots, always quick to catch his moods it.
 What is it, Billy" she asked.
 Nothing" he answered, with a sigh. "I was just thinking-When, oh, when you going to surrender? Or must give up both you and my The little Gates girl looked at him, great ten derness in her eyes,
 "If you wish,'' she whispered, "a week from to- An! there was joy in the Cafe Cote dor the night the apron of Bertrand de Bouillon came back, and on the nights that followed Word spread among the old patrons that the odd indispositon Adolphe the great chef was at an end, and they focked back in droves, crowding the tables and waiting by the cage of Madame for seats.
 Across the street, in the Cafe Glacial, the lights again shone unused silver and vacant chairs. cursed like one of the 1 Villains in the shows for which Dupree painted the scenery.
 The little Gates girl and the artist were mar Cote dor the largest table reserved for their wedding supper, to which only Masters, Hargrave and Betty Martin were invited.
 At length the other diners ended their dreams and paid their bills and only the five remained. Madame Casserole came out of her cage and
  Monsieur closed the door on the last jovial guest and also came toward them smiling. Never, it seemed had there been happier moment in the Cafe Cote dor.
 And then a terrible thing happened.
 The door opened and he came in, that rogue Lefourbe, unsavory keeper of an impossible cafe Under his arm he carried something of cloth. -Un- seeing he passed the diners and their hosts, and, pushing open the swinging doors walked straight into the kingdom of Adolphe.
 With one accord Monsieur and Madame, terror on their faces,. followed. Dupree motioned to the OWd md will i'm 1Qadi hQ na kitchen.
 Lefourbe was holding toward Adolphe an apron, and the latter stood as man in dream listening to the rascal's words.
 "One night as wandered in side street, the wind swept this in my path Lefourbe lied blithely .'l picked it up Then thought it only an apron But today did learn that it is the apron of the great Bertrand de Bouillon. But today did the name of the owner reach me. Me, am very sorry. hastened here with it. An, that have caused inconveniencei"
 He gazed about him sneeringly.
 Not for worlds would have caused inconvenf ence."
 He took in his hand the restored apron of the mas ter, and turned Monsieur Casserole.
 Terror written in every line of Casserole's face Lefourbe laughed to see it. the Code d'Or, piteousy flor the good of our cafe did it. For the good of all of us. Morbleu! must do it, or"
 .'For week." roared Adophe and his face was terrible to see without the apron of Bertrand de Bouillon have cooked, and that which have cooked has been such as might have won the praise of his gift alone, not gaining hourly from his be- loved the strength to cook for his glory and that Sf This have dS1e have Without the apron of inspiration. Non, with an apron, oh, so base, forced on you by enemies. A' the painter the sculptor"
 "Mapeste! So be it." cried Adolphe.
 The door of the great stove was open; within the red coals glowed savagely. Before anyone A 0f mty so great, Adolphe had thrown into the nrs the gift of the master, Bertrand de Bouillon. Int waited such food from the hand of such a chef They swirled about it madly. Tn second the apron of genius was but a mass of glowing ashes
 Mon Dieu! what is this you have done?' shreked Monsieur Casserole. "You have ruined us all, you fool! Where is my cafe now now In In Gone Sangbleu!"
 He fell to a stool and covered his face with hi hands Vainly he sought to shut out that horribl' picture of the end of his glory. He knew now tha his final week of success had been given him onl! serole, tears streaming down the fat cheeks th' smile had been wont to adorn.
 Ruined usi" sobbed Monsieur. For ten year the Cafe Cote d'Or-
 He paused, for he had the terrible look or the face of Adolphe
 "Eggs!" screamed the might chef.
 An assistant brought them.
 'The skillet!"
 Ips1sor,. It also was forthcoming.
 Monsieur Casserole himself tremblingly put lC lI Adolphe's hands.
 Then they stood back, scarcely daring to breathe waiting with open mouths and swiftly beatint hearts the making of that omelet Never befor an omelet prepared by sterner chef, or for greater stake.
 And now it lay, steaming, on a plate. Foam1 and soft it looked-but ah, could 1t be so, witl the apron of the great Bertrand
 "Taste!'' roared Adolphe. in an awful voice pointing his monster fork at little Mrs. Dupree.
 They pushed her forward She had been th' one selected for the ordeal-why, no one coulC say, but it for her to carry it through.
 Tremblingly she inserted fork into the ho mass. Tremblingy she raised morsel to he lips. It disappeared. Monsieur Casserole grasp ed the edge of the table till his hands went white Madame leaned forward fatty, in imminent dange of tipping.
 '"The taste?" Adolphe's voice still terrfbl to hear.
 The little bride closed her eyes.
 'Of heaven" she whispered p God be praised!" cried Monsieur Casserole.
 'De Bouiilon! Bahi" blasphemed Adolohe.
 "Le Diable!" muttered Lefourbe.
 And Madame Casserole was smiling through he tears.
 Thus was the bugbear of the apron of Bertran de Bouillon forever banished from the Cafe Cot