Year: 1879




| At G5, NJ. Isdore Tisson. Professor of
History at the University of Montpelier,
had still one great passion and one dear
friend. lie was a collector of rare books,
and loved to be called a bibliophile. His
friends name was Colonel Cassmir Coste.
Nj. Tisson had been widower so years.
| His two daughters-who, after their moth
er's death. had been educated by an old
aunt of q very religious turn Of mind
were both married. One of them was set
tied at Mines, the other at Lunel. They
were highly proper and highly respected
ladies', who punctually performed all their
duties without "a murmur and without any
pleasure. They paid their father frequent
but short and formal visits, and never
stopped night in Montpelier. so that
they in no way interfered with the quiet
routine of the Professors life.
| Colonel Coste was bachelor. Isidore
Tisson and Casimir Coste, whose parents
had been next-deor neighbors, had begun
to play together when they were only five
years old. They had been to the same
school, and had parted for the first time
when they were seventeen. Tisson then
went to the University of Toulouse, while
Coste was sent to the Military College OF
st. Cyr. They did not meet again for
forty years, and by that time they had
completely forgotten each other. During
this long interval M. Tisson had published
several learned works. and had obtained
the chair of Professor of History in his
native town. Coste had fought the Be-
douins in Algeria and the Russians at
Sebastopol, and had been obliged to re-
tire from active servive in consequence Of
severe wound received at the storming
of Fort Malakotf He was a Lieutenant
Colonel and an officer of the Legion of
Honor. On leaving the hospital, the lone
ly, weary man returned to his native town,
which he had not visited since the days of
his youth. But he had often felt strange
longing to spend there in quiet the evening
of his restless life, and now he hoped to
do so.


He found Montpelier but little altered
during the long years of his absence, and
soon recognized in one of its narrow
streets the very house in which his parents
had lived. and where he was born. 1t so
chanced that small apartment was to be
let there. lie hired it. furnished it simply,
and established himself there at once. Be
hind the house was large garden; and the
Colonel as favored tenant, obtained per-
mission of the landlord to walk in it when
he chose.


One evening in September, as Coste
was passing up and down the gravel
walk in this garden, smoking his short
pipe and thinking of Africa, the Crimea,
and friends that were dead or lost, he
heard himself called in IA fashion that
startled him


..Casimir! Casimir!''


For nearly forty years no one had called
him by that name. His superiors and his
soldiers during that time had addressed
him successfully as Lieutenant, Captain,
Major and Colonel his brother officers as
Coste He had lost his father and mother
many years ago, and had never had any
brothers or sisters. He might well nigh
have forgotten that he had a Christian
name. and now some one was calling him
by it!


"Casimir! Casimir! -


lie turned round and saw at window
of the first floor of the house next to his
own a middle-aged gentleman, who was
smiling and nodding to him in the most
friendly manner For a moment the Col
onel remained motionless. Then with an
oath, which it was his habit to utter when
ever he wanted to express joy, anger, as
tonishment, or, in short, any sudden emo





"Isdore! Is it possible p''


A few minutes later the Professor was
in the garden with his friend. He told
him that he had returned that very morn
ing from trip which he had taken during
the vacation, and had only just learned
that Colonel Coste, native of Mont
peller, had come to live next door.


Il at once thought it must be you, and
would have called upon you to ascertain
if my conjecture was correct, but l saw
YOU in the garden and recognized you at
once. You are not bit altered
The Colonel upon this laughed so loudly
that the sparrows in the trees flew away
in alright WELL" he said, II think
that's Just little exaggeratiOn. When |
accompanied you to the diligence that took
YOU to Toulouse You were handsome,
slender lad. with soft down on your
upper lip and profusion of dark curly
locks Now YOU can boast of very re-
spectacle circumference, and your dark
halr has turned gray. | was then mere
boy. with bright eyes. sound teeth, active
legs and IL magnificent head OF hair which
used to part sometimes on the right,
sometimes on the left side, not being sure
which way was most becoming. Now |
require spectacles to read. | munich like
rabbit, because have lost my back teeth;
walk lame, because the Russians sent a
bullet into nv right leg, and | have so
little hair left that the natural parting OF
it reaches nearly from one ear to another.
Frankly, cannot think am very like the
Casimir you knew


"Still l recognized you at once. l
would have known you among thousands.
and would have said That's my old friend
and school fellow. Casimir Coste.'"


well and did |, l should like to know,
hesitate as to your name ?'


Then the two old gentlemen shook hands
for the twentieth time, and laughed. while
their eyes grew moist. Both talked at
the same time, so that neither understood
what the other was saying. until at last
they came to regular questioning.


Are you marriedp"


No: and youP"


II have been widower many years"


.'Childrenp"