The Washington herald., 1920-09-13
By O. HENRY

through his cleaning spcctacIrs
as the sun draws water. He took
David inside to his study and sat
him down upon a little island beat
upon by a sea Of books.
Monsieur Brl had a conscience.
He hinChed not even al a mass of
manuscript the thickness Of
finger length and rolled TO an in
corrizible curve. He broke the
back OF the roll against his knee
and began to read. He sliChtod
nothing; he bored into the Iumn
as a worm into a nut, seeking for
a kernel
How many sheep have you.
Monsieur MiEnot?"
Three hundred and nine. when
] counted them yesterday. The
flock has had in fortune. To that
number it has decreased from
$50"
Il have read all your verses"
continued Monsieur Bril-. his cvas
wandering about his sea OF books
as II he Conned the horizon for a
sail. Look yondcr- through that
window. Monsieur MiEnot: tell me
what you see in that tree"
q see a crow" said David.
looking.
There is a bird" said Non
sieUr Bril-, that shall assist me
where ] am disposed 10 shirk a
duty. You know that bird. Mon
sieur MiEnot; ho- is the phiIus0-
pher OF the air. He is happy
through submission TO his iur
None so merry or fulI-CrsW,d as
hc with his whimsical oyr and
r"llickinE step The fields ,r.r1
him what he desires. Hr never
Ericves that his plumar &c i~ not
gay. like the orioles And t-u
have heard Monsieur NI-nuI. ruo
notes that nature has E.1,n nrm7
Is the nightingale any happier,
do you think ."
David rose to his I,ct The
crow Cawed harEhIy from his
tree.
I thank you. Monsieur Ell-"
he said slowly There was NOT.
then. one nightingale note among
all those croakse"
Il could not have missed t'"
said Monsieur Bril- with d sI=n
Il read every word Live ,.u-
poetry. man: do not try 10 write
il any more"
4 thank you" said IA, 10.
again. And now I will bc going
back to my sheep"
n YOU would dine with mo"
said the man Of books. and over
look the smart OF it, ] will give
you reasons at length"
No" said the poet. Il must be
back in tho fields cawinE at my
sheep"
Back along tho road to Vcrnoy
he trudEcd with his poems under
his arm. When he reached his
village he turned into the shop
OF ono ZicElcr. a jew out Of Ar
mCnia, who sold anything that
came 10 his hand
Friend" said David. wolves
from the forest hsrsss my sheen
on the hills. must purchase
firearms to protect them. wnat
have you7"
a bad day. this. for me. friend
MiEnot." said ZeigIer. spreading
his hands, for ] perceive that
must sel' you a weapon that will
not fetch a tenth OF its value.
Only last week I bought from a
Peddler wagon full OF goods that
hC procured at a sale by commits
Sionaire Of the crown. The sale
was OF the chateau and belong
inEs OF a great lord know not
his titlc-vho has been banishcd
for conspiracy against the king
There are some choice firearms in
the lot. This pistoI-oh. a wea-
pom fit for a princc,-it shall be
only forty francs to you. friend
MiEnot-if I lost ten by the sale.
But perhaps an srouebuse-"
This will do" asid David.
throwing the money on the
counter. is il charged"
Il will charge it," said Zsicler.
And for ten francs more. add
store Of powder and ball.
r David laid his pistol under his
coat and walked to his cottage.
-Yvonne was not there. OF late
she had taken to Eadding much
among the neiEhbors.
The song OF the crow!" said
the poet.
and closed the door. So quiet was
the village that a score OF people
heard the roar Of the great pistol.
i"tH HVSNsu tliiNliSi. anu VI AhS
stairs where the smoke, issuing,
drew their notice.
The men laid the body OF the
poet upon his bed, swkwsrdly
arranging il 20 conceal the torn
plumage OF the poor black crow.
The women chartered in a luxury
of jealous pity. Some OF them
ran TO tell YVonne.
NJ. Pspineau. whose nose had
brought him there among the first
picked up the weapon and ran his
eyc over It's silver mountinr-s
with a mingled air Of connolsseur-
ship and grief.
The arms" he explained, aside.
to the cure, 'snd crest Of Mon
seigneur, the Marquis de Besuper-
sys"