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VOICES OF THE BELLS.
I heard the bolls at dawn of day,
Beyond the hills, far blue,
“The world is fair,” they seemed to say,
“And everywhere the flowers of May
Are blossoming for 3-011.'’
Blithe bells of morn! My pulses thrill,
For in my heart I hear them still.
I heard the bells above 1113' head
Clang out at noon again;
And “Work, work, work!" they harshly said,
“The dewy hours of morn have fled,
Toil on, O sons of men!”
Discordant bells, that sorely fret
The weary soul with cares beset.
I heard the bells at eventide
The vesper hour chime low;
The da3 r was done, and side by side
The wean- toilers far and wide
All homeward seemed to go.
Sweet vesper bells, your tone is best,
Morn fled, toil done, and God confessed.
—Gussie Packard Du Bois, in Current.
DENIS.
A STORY FROM THE FRENCH.
Monsieur Marambot opened the letter
his servant Denis brought him, and
smiled.
Denis, who had been in his employ for
twenty years—a little, jolly, thickset
man, who was constantly referred to,
through model all the country round, as the
very of a valet—queried:
‘ ‘Monsieur is happy? Monsieur has re¬
ceived some good news?”
Monsieur Marambot was not rich. He
was a bachelor, and had been a village
druggist for many years. He now lived
on the small revenue made with great dif¬
ficulty by selling medicines to the coun¬
try people. He answered:
“Yes, my boy. Old Malois does not
want to go into court, and to-morrow I
will get my money. Five thousand francs
will help an old bachelor along pretty
well.”
And M. Marambot rubbed his hands
together. He was a man of rather re¬
incapable signed character, not particularly joval—
fort, and of anything like sustained ef¬
affairs. quite indiff rent about his own
living He might by taking easily advantage have made of the a better death
of certain fellow-druggists, who had
stores well-situated iu large centres, to
take one of the vacant businesses and so
assure himself of a lucrative custom. But
the trouble of moving, and the thought
of all the other things he would have to
do, always prevented it, and after think¬
ing over the matter for a day or two, he
would merely say:
“Ah: bah! Nexttime I’ll really think
about it. One loses nothing by waiting,
anyhow. Perhaps I’ll get a still better
chance.”
Denis, on the contrary, was always
urging his master to attempt something.
Naturally energetic, he would declare:
“Oh! as for me, if I just had the cap¬
ital to start with, I would have made a
fortune. Only a thousand francs, and
Fd mike my way soon enough.”
M. Marambot smiled without replying,
went into his little garden, and walked
up and down with his hands behind him,
in a re
Denis, all day long, sang ballads and
country songs, as if he were in an un
common ty good humor. He even showed
unusual activity; for he cleaned all the
window panes in the house, singing at
the top of his voice while he wiped the
gl ass Astonished - _
at his zeal, M. Marambot
said to him several times, with a smile:
“If you keep on working like that,
my boy, you will have nothing to do to
morrow.
Next morning, about nine o'clock, the
postmaster handed Denis four letters for
his master, one of which was very heavy,
M. Marambot at once locked himself up
in his room, and remained there until
late in the afternoon. He then entrust
ed his servant with four letters for the
post. One or them was addressed to M.
Malois; it was, no doubt, an acknow 1 -
edgement of money received.
Denis asked his master no questions;
he seemed to be that day as melancholy
and sullen as lie had been merry the
evening before.
Night came. 31 . Marambot went to
bed at his usual hour, and slept.
He was awakened by a singular noise.
Hesat up at once in his bed and listened,
J 5 ut all at once his bedroom door opened,
and Denis appeared on the scene,holding
a candle in one hand and a kitchen-knife
ip the other; his eyes wild and fixed; his
Bps compressed as if under the influence
of some terrible emotion, and his face $0
pale that he looked like a gho-t. stricken
Monsieur Marambot, at first
dumb with astonishment, concluded that
Denis was walking in his sle<y), and he
got up to intercept him, when Denis
suddenly blew- out the light and made a
rush for the bed. Ilis master instinct¬
ively put out his hands to save himself
from the shock of the encounter, which
Hung him upon his back, and then lie
tried to seize the hands of the domestic,
who seemed to have become demented,
and who was striking at him with all his
might, knife struck him
The first blow- of the
in the shoulder; the second blow he re¬
ceived in his forehead, the third in his
chest. He struggled frantically, putting
out his hands in the dark, and kicking
out with his feet, shouting:
“Denis! Denis!—are you mad? Den¬
is! What are you doing? Denis!”
But Denis, panting with his efforts,
still kept striking, became more and
more furious; sometimes a kick or a
blow would fling him back, but he al
w-ays rushed on again, wildly. Monsieur
Marambot received two more w-ounds—
one in the leg and one in the abdomen.
But a sudden thought came to him, aud
he screamed out:
“Stop, Denis, stop! I have not yet
got my money!” striking.
The man at once stopped him
Monsieur Marambot could hear
panting in the dark. .r
«•
M. Marambot spoke again: Malois
“I have not yet got a cent. M.
has gone back on his word; the case i*8
going before the courts; that is why
you took those letters to the post. You
had better read the letters lying on mv
desk.”
And, with a supreme effort, he man¬
aged to get hold of the matches on the
table and to strike a light. blood. Jets of
He was covered with
it had spattered the wall. The sheets,
the bed-curtains—everything was red.
Denis, also bloody from head to foot,
was standing in the middle of the room.
When he saw all this, Monsieur Mar¬
ambot thought it was all over with him,
and became unconscious.
He came to himself again at daylight.
It took him some little time to collect liis
senses—to "understand—to remember.
But suddenly the recollection of the at¬
tempt and the sensation of his wounds
came to him, and so intense a fear took
possession of him that he shut his eyes
so as not to see anything. At the end of
a few minutes his terror calmed, and he
began to think. He had not died from
the blows—therefore he had some chance
of living. He felt weak—very weak,
but had no violent pain, though he felt a
soreness at various points of his body,
as of severe pinching. He also felt very
chilly, and wet, and compressed, bandages. as if he
had been tightly swathed with
He thought the humidity must be blood,
and a shudder passed through him at the
thought of all that red fluid which had
issued from his own veins in such quan
tity as to wet his bed. The idea of liav
ing to see that awful sight again, his com
pletely upset him, and he shut eyes
as tightly as he could, as if afraid they
might open in spite of him.
What had become of Denis? He must
have run away.
But what was he, now
going to do? To get up, — and call for
help? Why. if he were to make the
least movement, all his wounds would
certainly break open again, and he would
die fromloss of blood.
All of a sudden he heard his bedroom
pushed open. His heart almost stopped,
That was certainly Denis coming back
to finish him. He tried to hold his
breath so that the murderer would think
he was really dead—that the job was
thoroughly done.
He felt the sheet his pulled off—then felt
someone feeling abdomen. A sharp
pain near hi- hip made him start. Now
he felt somebody washing his wound—
very gently—with cold water. There
fore, the crime must have been discov
ered, and they were attending to his
wounds; he was being nursed. A wild
joy came on him; but through a linger
ing show sense of prudence, he tried not to
that he was conscious, and he half
opened one eye, only one, with ever so
many precautions. Denis beside
He recognized standing
him—Denis himself! Good Lord! He
shuts his eyes again forthwith.
Denis! What on earth was he doing?
What did he want? What frightful pro
ject was he now endeavoring to accom
plish? he doing? Why, he
What was wa»
washing him simply to hide all traces of
the crime. And now, perhaps, he would
bury him ten feet deep in the garden, so
that nobody could ever find him. Or
else, piace perhaps, where the in the cellar under -wine the
bottles of choice
were kept.
And M. Marambot began to tremble so
much that every limb shook.
He thought: “It is all up with me—
all up with me!” He shut his eye not
to see the last blow- of the knife coming.
It did not come. Denis was now lifting
him, and binding his wounds with som •
linen. Then he begin to bind the wound
in the leg, very carefully, as he had
learned to do when his master was a
druggist. could doubt
There be no more in the
mind of auy one who knew the business.
The servant, after having tried to kill
him, was now- trying to save him.
Then, in this a dying voice, practical M. Marambot counsel:
gave him piece of
“The done washing and dressing ought diluted to
be w ith carbolic acid and
with soap and water.”
Denis answered:
“That’s what I’m doing, monsieur.”
M. Marambot opened blood both his eyes. either
There was no trace of now,
in the bed or on the wall, or in the room
or upon the person of the assassin, The
wounded man was lying upon clean white
sheets.
The two men looked at one another.
Finally M. Marambot said, very gently:
ii You have committed a crime.”
Denis replied: make reparation for it,
i i I am trying to promise de¬
monsieur. If you not to
nounce me, I will continue to serve you
as faithfully as in the past.”
Well, it was not the most propitious
time to argue with his servant. M. Mar¬
ambot, as he closed liis eyes again artic¬
ulated:
“I swear to you that I will never de¬
nounce you.” He passed
Denis saved his master.
whole nights and days without sleep,
never leaving the patient’s room a medi¬ mo¬
ment—preparing lotions, mixing
cines, giving doses, feeling his master’s
pulse, counting it anxiously—managing
the ease with the sklil of a professional
nurse and the devotion of a son.
Every minute or two he would asked:
“Well, monsieur, how do you feel now ?”
Monsieur Marambot would reply, fee¬
bly: “A little better, my boy, thank you.”
And often, when the wounded man
►woke in the night, be would see his
curse weeping silently, as he sat in his
arm-chair by the bed, and wiping his
eyes. his had old druggist
Never in life the
l^en so well cared for—so much petted
and caressed. At first lie said to him¬
self, “Just so soon as I get well, I’ll
get rid of the rascal.” But when he was
fully convalescent he day kept putting day. off the
man’s dismissal from to
He thought to himself that no (4her
person would ever show' him so much at¬
tention or bestow upon him so much
care. He had a hold on the man now—
could control him by fear—and even he
told him that he had made a will and de
posited it with a notary, in which will
was a statement denouncing Denis in case
should occur.
This precaution seemed to assure him
against auy further attempt on his life;
and then he began to ask himself whether
it would not be better to keep the man
anyhow, as he could thus keep a better
watch over his future actio n s
He found it as impossible to makeup
his mind about this matter, as he had
found it formerly impossible to decide
whether to open a drug enough store or not.
“Well, there’s time to think
about that,” he would say to himself.
Meanwhile Denis continued to show
himself to be a perfect domestic. M.
Marambot got well. He kept Denis.
But one morning, just as he had fin
ished breakfast, he suddenly heart 1 a
great noise in the kitchen. He ran
thither, and saw Denis struggling in the
grasp of two gendarmes.
One of the officers began to take notes
in a note-book.
As soon as he saw his master, the ser
vant sobbed out:
“You denounced me monsieur!—after
all your promises! That is not right.
You broke your word of honor. M. Ma
rambot!—that was not right!—that was
not right?*’ Marambot,utterly astounded,
Monsieur
and greatly pained at being suspected,
lifted up his hand, and said:
“I swear to you, before God, my boy,
that I never denounced you. I have not
even got the faintest idea how these police
men ever heard of the attempt to murder
me tM 1
The one who was taking notes, gave a
start:
“What! you say he tried to murder
you, M. Marambot?”
More and more confused, the druggist
answered:
him—never “Why, yes—but I never denounced
said a word about it—I swear
I never said a word—He served me very
well ever since. ”
The officer severely replied:
i . I note down your statement. Justice
will take full cognizance of this new fact,
which was not known to us before, Mon¬
sieur Marambot. I was simply ordered to
arrest your servant for stealing two ducks
from Monsieur Duhamel; we have wit¬
nesses to prove th - theft. Sorry, Monsieur
Marambot; I shall testify to what you
have just said.”
Then turning to the gendarmes, ho
said:
“Takehim along,”
They took Denis along.
The attorney for the defendant entered
a plea charges of insanity—using the two differ¬
ent to make a case for his client.
He ducks proved clearly that the performed theft of the
two must have been in
the same mental condition which caused
the eight knife-stabs to have been in¬
flicted upon M. Marambot. lie made a
very tine analysis of all the different which,
phases of this mental aberration, yield
lie felt sure, he said, would to a
few week’s judicious medical treatment
in a good private asylum. He spoke de¬ en¬
thusiastically of the continuous self
votion of this honest servant—the un¬
ceasing care lie had bestowed upon the
employer he had wounded in a moment
of mental aberration.
Monsieur the Marambot, painfully of that im¬
pressed by awful rise recollection his
night, felt the tears to it—spread eyes.
The shrewd lawyer noticed
out his arms witli a great gesture, waved
the long black sleeves of his robe like
bats’ wings, and vociferated in a sonorous
tone :
41 Look! look! look! gentlemen of the
jury!—look at those tears! What more
need I now say in behalf of my client ?
What argument, what discourse, what rea¬
soning could weigh against the ev idence
of those tears of his own master ? Those
tears plead louder than 1113' voice—they
plead louder than the voice of the law—
they cry out for pardon for the madness
of a moment! They impolore; they ab¬
solve; they bless!”
He held his peace, and sat down.
Turning to Marambot, whose testi¬
mony had been all in favor of Denis, the
Judge asked:
“But in any event, sir—even admit¬
ting that you believe understand this man to be in¬
sane—I cannot your reason
for keeping him in your employ. Ho
was, under all circumstances, dangerous.”
Marambot replied, wiping his eyes;
“What else could I do, your Honor?—
it is so hard to find servants nowadays.
I might have found worse.”
Denis was acquitted and sent to an
insane asylum, at his master’s expense.—
Nnn Orleans Times-Democrat.
* Buying A Suit of ( lollies.
Fogg was going to buy a new suit, and
Mrs. F. very kindly offered to accompany
him. Arrived at the store a salesman
approached with his business smirk. “I
want a suit of clothes,” said Fogg nb
ruptly. Mrs. F.—“Something not replied too
expensive, you know.’’ “Yes'rn"
the salesman, turning his attention to the
lady and utterly ignoring Fog«_ r . M:s. F.
(examining cloth)—“Do you think this
—“Admirably! will match his complexion?'' Couldn’t suit it Sale-mi better.’’ ni
Mrs. F. — “Do you think so? IIow fortu
nate. I’m sure But won't this fade?"
Salesman—“Not a particle. I wore one
like it five years, and it didn't change
color in the lea-t.” Mrs. F.—“And will
it wash?” Salesman—“Perfectly." Mrs.
F.—“Well, you may cut off a sample,
What else have you?” The same cate
chistn is repeated half a score of times.
and the Foggsretire; Mrs. F. radiant, as
one should be who has done a great
work, and Fogg, looking sour, sad and
discontented. Mrs. F. (on the street)—
“Now, David, I ll take these home and
wash’em out. so s to be sure the colors
are fast, and then I II take them over to
Mrs. Brown's and see what she says.
She's a great judge, you know, And if
she likes them, and aunt Kate thinks
they'll be becoming, and Mrs. Black says
they aren’t too young for you, we will
come again and decide.''— Boston Tran
script.
Pleasant for Duniley.
“Come up to the house, Dumley," said
lobinson, “and take dinner with me.
“Will Mrs. Kobinson expect me?”
“No, that's the beauty of it. Her
mother is paying us a long visit, and I
want to make the old lady mad .’—Neut
York Sun.