'"'" i a 1 1 i in m
over, rendy to pny for the land nt on-
in hard coin. In this way the fair man
quesitn of Froidfond wn nwnllowc4
down by M. Grnndot, who, to tho nmazo
ment of Saumur, paid for it in readj
money. Tlio news of this trnnsactior
traveled far and wide; it readied Or
leans, it wns spoken of at Nantes.
The Riser's
By UONRQ DB BALZAC
Daughter'
HI
o
chapter i.
In some towns there are houses more
Depressing to the night thanttlie dimmest
Holster, tlio moHt melancholy ruiiiK or
Ihe dreariest stretch of sandy waste, Por-
llllpR Hllcll llOIIHGH IIH tllOHO COIIlhillO tltO
charactorlHtlcH of nil tlu three, and to
the dumb silence of tlio inonaHtory I hoy
unite tin; gauntncHH of the ruin mid (lie
Irld desolation of the waste. There Ih
Mm particular Iiouhc front in Snuiiinr
Milch possesses all these melancholy
fharacterlstics, standing at tlio end of a
Keep street. It wns a venerable relic
tf n byuoiio ago, l)iiilt for the men and
Women of an older and Himplcr world,
Troin which our modern Franco Ih far
ther and farther removed day by day.
n a gloomy reeoHH a doorway in dimly
Hslhle, the door of M. Grandot's Iiouhc.
M. Orimdet enjoyed a certain reputa
tion in Satitnur. There were Ktlll old
people In exlHtonce who could remember
jormer tlmcH and called M. (irandct
lGoodnian Grandet," but there were no)
many of them left, and they were rap
Idly disappearing year by year. In ,1781)
fjrnndet wnR a nuiHtcr cooper, In a very
pood way of business, who could read
tmd write nnd caHt accounts. When the
French Republic confronted IiiiuIh in the
IllHtrlct and proceeded to Hell them by
huction, tho cooper wh forty yearn or
tige, and had just married tho daughter
f a wealthy timber merchant. Ah Gran
Bet possessed at that moment IiIh wifo'H
flowry iih well iih Home coiiHlderable
hmount of ready money of IiIh own, ho
ncqlilred Homo of the bent vlueland in
the ueighborhooil, an old abbey and a
few littlo farniH, for an old Hong. In tho
ilayH of tho Consulate ho becamo Mayor,
did prudently In IiIh public capacity and
did very well for himself. Times chang
ed, the empire wuh established and he
became Monsieur Grandet. lie had a
fair claim to the Cross of the Legion
of Honor nnd he received It in 8()tl.
By tills timo M. Ornndet was liriy
Rovcn years old, and his wife about thlr-,ty-six.
Tho ono child of the marriage
was n dnughter, a littlo girl ten years
of ago. In this year he succeeded to
three fortunes. Mine, Ornndet's mother
find her father hooii followed her; the
third in order wuh M. Grandot's grand
mother on tho mother's side. M. Gran
det received a new distinction ho paid
more taxes than any one elso in tlio coun
try around. IIo now cultivated a hun
dred acres of vineyard. In a good year
they would yield seven or eight hundred
puncheons. He had thirteen littlo farms,
nu old abbey mid a hundred and twenty
noven aercH of grazing land, in which
three thousand poplars, planted In 171)11,
wore growing tnller and larger every
year. Finally ho owned tho house in
Which ho lived.
In these vislblo wnys IiIh prosperity
had increased. As to his capital, there
wero only two people in a position to
make a guess at its probable amount.
Dno of these was the notary, M. Cruchot,
who transacted all the necessary busi
ness whenever M. Grandet made an in
vestment, and tho other was M. des
Grussins, the wealthiest banker in the
town, who did Grandet many good of
fices which wero unknown to Siinntur.
There was no one In Snuniur who did not
fully believe the report which told how.
hi a secret hiding place, M. Grandet
had a hoard of louls, and how every
night ho went to look at It and gave
himself up to the inexpressible delight
vf gazing at the huge heap of gold.
In mutters iinauclal M. Grandet might
bo described as combining the character
istics of tlio Bengal tiger and the boa
tonstrietor. lie could lie low and wait,
trouchlng, watching for his prey, anil
inke his spring unerringly at last; then
iho jaws of his purse would unclose, a
torrent of coin would be swallowed down,
nd, as in the ensu of tlio gorged reptile,
Ihoro would bo a period of inaction. Like
ihe serpent, moreover, he was cold, apa
thetic, methodical, keeping to his own
Mysterious times and seasons.
M. Grnndot never bought either meat
Ir bread, Part of his rents were paid
pi kind, and every week his tenants
Drought in poultry, eggs, butter and
ts'licat sutUclent for tlio needs of his
lousehold. Moreover, ho owned a mill,
I ml tho miller, besides paying rent, came
ver to fetch a certain quantity of corn
tud brought him back both the bran and
tho Hour. Big Nation, tho ono muld-sor-rant,
baked all tho bread once a week.
Others of the tenants wero market gar
Jeners, and M. Grandet had arranged
that these were to keep him supplied
with fresh vegetables. Of fruit there
mis no lack. Indeed, ho sold n good deal
If it in the niarkot. Firewood was gath
irod from his own hedges or taken from
lid stumps of trees that grow by tho
tides of bis Holds. Ills tenants chopped
bp the wo. j, carted it into tlio town and
Obligingly stacked his fagots for him, ro-
lolvlng in return his thanks. So he
loldom had occasion to spend money. Ills
inly known Items of expenditure were
tor sittings in tlio church for his wife
Ind dnughter, their dress, Napon's wages,
renewals of tho linings of Nanon's sauce
pans, repairs about tlio house, candles,
fates and taxes, and tho necessary out
inys of money for improvements. Ho
kad recently acquired six hundred acres
f woodland, nnd had induced n keeper
belonging to a neighbor to attend to it,
tronilsing to repay tho man for his trou
bio. After tliis purchnso hnd boon made,
tame appenred on tlio urnnucts' table.
Grnndot's manners wero distinctly
homely. IIo did not say very much. He
expressed his ideas as n rule In brief,
lontcntioiis phrases, uttered in n low
rolco. Ho had other peculiarities. Ho
habitually drowned his ideas in a Hood
if words more or less incoherent; his
lingular 'hinptitudo for reasoning logical
ly was usually sot down to a defective
education, but this, like IiIh unwelcome
lluency, tho trick of Htammerlng and va
rious other mauneriHins, wuh assumed,
and for reasons which, in the course of
the Htory, will be made sulllclcntly clear.
lie never paid visits, never dined away
from home, nor asked any one to dinner.
IIIh movements wero almost noiseless.
Mo seemed to carry out IiIh principles of
economy in everything to make no use
less sound, to bo chary of spending even
physical energy, ills respect for the
rights of ownership was so habitual that
he never displaced nor disturbed any
thing belonging to another. And yet In
spite of the low tones of his voice, in
spite of IiIh discretion and enutious bear
ing, the cooper's real character showed
Itself in ills language and manners, and
this was more especially the caso In his
own house, where ho was less on his
guard than olso where.
As to Grandot's exterior, ho was n
broad, square-shouldered, thick-set man,
about five feet high. Ho hnd a bullct
shaped head a suu-burnod faco, scarred
with the smallpox, and a nnrrow chin.
Ho possessed a set of white teeth, eyes
witli an expression of stony avidity in
them, a deeply furrowed lirow on which
there were prominences not lacking in
slgnlllcance, hyir fast turning gray. On
IiIh nose, which was broad and blunt nt
tho tip, wbh a variegated wen; gossip
alllrnied, not without some appearance
of truth, that spite and rnncor was tho
causo of this affection. There was a
dangerous cunning about this face, al
though tho man, indeed, was honest ac
cording to tlio letter of tho law; it was
a selfish faco; thero wero but two things
in tho world for which its owner cared
the delights of hoarding wealth, in the
first place, and, in tho second, the only
being who counted for anything in his
estimation his dnughter Eugenic, his
only child.
A few townspeople, six in all. had the
right of entry to Grandct's house and
society. First among these in order
of importnnco was M. Cruchot's nephew.
Ever since his appointment as president
of tlio court of first instance, this young
man had added the appellation "do Bon
fons" to his original name; in time lie
hoped that the Bonfons would efface the
Cruchot, and was at no little pains to
compass this end. Already he styles
himself C. do Bonfons. Tho magistrate
was about 'M years of nge, and the own
er of the estate of Bonfons. In Addition
to this he had prospects; ho would suc
ceed some day to the property of his
uncle the notary, and there was yet an
other uncle besides, the Abbe Cruchot
of Toms; both relatives were commonly
reported to be men of substance. The
three C'ruehots, with a goodly number
of kinsfolk, connected, too, by marriage
with a score of other houses, formed a
sort of party in the town, but. they had
their rivals.
Mine, des Grassins, tlio mother of n
son '2',) years of age. came assiduously
to take a hand nt cards with Mine. Gran
det, hoping to marry her own dear
Adolphe to Mademoiselle Eugenie. She
had a powerful ally in her husband tho
banker, who had secretly rendered the
old miser many n service. The thrco
des Grassins had likewise their host of
adherents, their cousins and trusty aux
iliaries. The Abbo, well supported by his broth
er the notary, closely disputed the ground
with the banker's wife: they meant to
carry off the wealthy heiress for their
nephew tho president. The struggle be
tween the two parties for the prize of
the hand of Eugenie Grandet was an
open secret; all Saumur watched it with
the keenest interest. Some solved the
problem by saying Hint M. Grandet
would give bis daughter to neither. The
old cooper, said they, was consumed with
an ambition to have a peer of France
for a son-in-law, and he was on the look
out for one who. for the consideration of
an income of three hundred thousand
livres, would find nil the past, present
and future barrels of the Grandets no
obstacle to a match.
Those whose memories went farther
bad- said that the Grandets wero too
prudent to let all that property go out
of the family. Mile. Fugenie Grandet,
of Saumur, would be married one of
these days to the son of the other M.
Grandet, of Paris, a rich wholesale wine
merchant. To these both Crucholins and
Grasslnlstes wero wont to reply as fol
lows "In the first place, the brothers have
not met twice in thirty yonrs. Then M.
Grandet, of Paris, is nmbitious for that
sou of Ills. He himself Is Mayor of his
division, a deputy, a colonel of the Na
tional Guard, and n judge of tho Tri
bunal of Commerce. He does not own
any relationship with the Grandets of
Sauinui and is seeking to connect him
self with one of Napoleon's dukes."
In the beginning of the year 1811 the
Crucliotlns gained a signnl victory over
the Grassinistes. The young Marquis
do Froidfond being compelled to realize
his capital, the estate of Froidfond, cele
brated for its park and its linndsomo cha
teau, was for sale; together with its do
pendent farms, rivers, fish ponds nnd for
ests; altogether It was worth three mill
ion francs. M. Cruchot, President Cru
chot, and tho Abbo Cruchot, by uniting
their forces, had managed to prevent a
proposed division into small lots. Tho
notary mndo nn uncommonly good bar
gain for his client, representing to tho
young marquis that tho purchase money
of the small lots could only be collected
after ondloss trouble and expense, and
that ho would havo to sue a large pro
portion of tho purchasers for It; while
hero was M. Grnndot, a mnn whoso
credit stood high, and who was, more
CHAPTER TI.
It wns in the middle of November, Id
the year 1811), twilight wns coming on,
and big Nation was lighting a fire in tin
pnrlor for tho first time. It wns n
festival day in the caictidnr of the Crtt
cliotitiH and GrnssinisteH, wherefore tlio
six antagonists were preparing to set
forth for n contest In which each sida
meant to outdo the other In proofs of
friendship. The Grandets' pnrlor was
to be the scene of action. That morning
Mine, and Mile. Grandet, duly attended
by Nation, had repaired to the parish
church. All Saumur had seen them go,
and every one hnd been put In mind of
tho fact that it was Eugenie's birthday.
Mr. Cruchot, the Abbo Cruchot, nnd
M. C. do Bonfons, therefore, having cal
culated the hour when dinner would bo
over, were enger to bo first In the field,
nnd to nrrivo before the GrnssinisteH to
congratulate Mile. Grandet. All three
carried huge bunches of llowcrs gathered
In their little garden plots, but the stalks
of the magistrate's bouquet wore ingeti-.
lously bound round by a white sntin rib
bon with n tinsel fringe nt the ends.
In tho morning M. Grandet hnd gone
to Eugenie's room before she had left
her bed, and had solemnly presented hoi
with a rare gold coin. It was her father's
wont to surprise her in this way twico
every year. Mine. Grandet usually gave
her daughter a winter nnd a summer
dress, according to circuinstnnccs. Tin
two drosRes and two gold coins, which
she received on her father's birthday and
on New Year's Day, altogether nmounted
to nn nnniial Income of nonrly a hundred
crowns; Grandet loved to watch tlio
money accumulating in her hands. 11a
did not pnrt with his money; lie felt thnt
It was only like taking it out of one box
and putting it Into another.
Eugenie wore her new dress at dinner,
and looked prettier than usual in it; hot
father was in high good humor.
"Let us have a fire," he cried, "as It
is Eugenie's birthday! It will be a good
omen!
"Manieinoiselle will bo mnrriod within
the year, that's certain," said big Na
tion, as sho removed the remnins of n
goose.
"There is no one Hint I know of in
Snuinur who would do for Eugenie,"
said Mine. Grandet, with a timid glanco
at her husband, a glance that revealed
how completely her busbnnd's tyranny
hail btoken the poor woman's spirit.
Grandet looked at his daughter, nnd
said merrily, "We must really begin to
think about her; the little girl Is li.'J yenrs
old to-day.
Neither Eugenie nor Iter mother Raid
a word, but they exchanged glances;
they understood each other. After tho
dinner, when the question of Eugenie's
marriage had been raised for the first
time, Nation, went up to M. Grandet's
room to fetch a bottle of black currant
cordial, and very nearly lost her footing
on tho staircase as she came down.
"Great stupid! Are you going to take
to tumbling nbout?" inquired her mas
tor.
"It's nil along of the step, sir; it
gnvo way. Tho staircase isn't safe.
"She is quite right," snld Mine. Grnn
det. "You ought to hnve had It mended
long ago. Eugenie all but sprained her
foot on it yesterday."
"Here," said Grandet, who saw that
Nation looked very palo, "as to-day is
Eugenio's birthday, and you hnve nenrly
fallen downstairs, take a drop of black
currant cordial; that will put you right
again."
"I deserve it, too, upon my word," snid
Nnnon. "Many a ono would have brok
en the bottle in my place; I should havo
broken by elbow first, holding it up to
save it."
"Poor Nnnon'." muttered Grandet,
pouring out the black currant cordial for
her.
"Did you hurt yourself?" asked Eu
genie, looking at her in concern.
"No, 1 managed to break the fall; I
came down on my side."
"Well." said Grandet, "as to-day is
Eugenie's birthday I will mend your step
for you. Somehow, you women folk
cannot manage to put your foot down
in the corner, where it is still solid and
safe."
Grandet took up the candle, left tho
three women without any other illumi
nation in the room than the bright danc
ing firelight, and went to the bakehouse,
where tools, nails and odd pieces of
wood were kept.
"Do you want any help?" Nnnon call
ed to him, when the first blow sounded
on the staircase.
"No. no! I am an old hand at it," an
swered the cooper.
At this very moment, while Grnndot
wns doing the repairs himself to his
worm-eaten stairense, and whistling with
all his might as memories of his young
days came up in his mind, tho three Cm
chots knocked at the house door.
"Oh, It's you, Is it, M. Cruchot?"
asked Nnnon, as she took a look through
the small square grating, opening tho
door, and the glow of tho firelight shono
on the three Crucliots, who were groping
in the archway. "Oh! you hnve como to
help ua keep her birthday," Nnnon snid,
ns tlio scent of flowers reached her.
"Excuso mo a moment, gentlemen,"
cried Grnndot, who recognized tlio voices
of his ncqunlntnnces; "I am your very
hutnblo servnnt! There Is no pride about
mo; I am patching up n broken stair hero
myself."
"Go on, go on, M. Grnndot! Tho chnr
coal burner Is mayor in his own house,"
said tho mngistrato soutontionsly. No
body saw tlio allusion, and ho had his
laugh all to himself. Mine, nnd Mile.
Grandet roso to greet them. Tho magis
trate took advantage of tho darkness to
speak to JSugcnie.
(To bo continued.)
Should WIvch He Mrcntl winner V
Soiikj weeks ago the newspapers dis
cussed somewhat profusely the ques
tion whether a Chicago bnnk clerk
ought to marry on loss than $1,000 n
year. It was not dltilcult to see thnt
Iho main question wns how much work
the bank clerk's bride would be will
ing to do, or be capable of doing. A
kindred question litis been discussed
more recently by Prof. Simon N. Pat
ton, of the University of Pennsylvania,
who argues that the social problem of
thousands of married couples would
bo solved were the wife to continue n
wngo-earner during the early period of
marriage. When two young people
who are earning $10 or $12 u week
nplece marry, Dr. Patten would huve
both of them continue to bo wage
earnors until the busband'H Income
increases to $'20 a week. Then, he
thinks, it is bettor tbut the wife should
give herself up to the home, and that
both should live on the husband's In
come. It is desirable, thinks Dr. Pat
ten, that persons of Hinall wage-earn-lug
capacity should be married, pro
vided both continue wage-earners. Dr.
Glddlngs, of Columbia University,
Beems to have kindred leanings, for
though he feels It to bo desirable that
after marriage tho wife be relieved as
far ns possible from a money-earning
occupation and have plenty of time
to maintain tlio homo, he points out
that the middle-class Frenchman's
wife is usually a shopkeeper or man
ages a restaurant, and that there Is
no better family life anywhere than In
(lie middle classes of France. In this
country he finds that the wife of a
foreigner Is nearly always a bread
winner, but that American women
have no tendency to become wage
earners Independent of their husbands.
The American prejudice against
wage-earning by married women ap
pears in the effort occasionally made
to make tho employment of teachers
in the public schools terminate with
marriage. But thousands of Ameri
can married women do earn wages,
thousands more would gladly do so if
they could, and other thousands would
be happier and better off If they did.
The prejudice against It seems disad
vantageous. American men, its a rule,
prefer to support their wives If they
can. If an American married woman
works for pay, it Is either because it
gives her pleusuro or because her bus
band's Income Is lnsutilclont. She does
not do It as a matter of course. How
long sho can keep It up depends upon
what the work Is, and upon other cir
cumstances. If she has children, that,
of course, interferes with her wage
earning, if It does not stop It alto
gether, and general acceptance of a
custom which would restrict or discour
age child bearing Is not to the public
advantage. Marriage tends, and should
tend, to withdraw women from wngo
enrnlng, but It need not stop it per se
nnd abruptly. To make marriage a
bar to future wage-earning by a wom
an operates in restriction of marriage,
and that is at least as much against
public policy as restriction of child
bearing. Harper's Weekly.
Cheerful Mothertj.
Thero are many conscientious fa
thers and mothers who make their
children miserable by taking youthful
foibles too seriously. It Is an Innate
propensity of a child possessed of av
erage good lioulth and spirits to make
older people laugh with him; not at
him, but at the tilings that seem amus
ing to his own sense. And tho mother
who has the blithe and ready humor
to enter Into his fun becomes the most
fascinating companion.
Ho heeds her rebukes and bends to
her correction without ill feeling,
while sternness would arouse bis pride
and Ire, for he Is assured that she is
ready to sharo all his innoeetyt pranks,
nnd that her disapproval bus no foun
dation in impatience or injustice.
And when the day arrives that
"childish things are put away," and
the grown men and women look back
ward to their early home, with what
a throb of plensure they say, when
tilings happen: "Mother would ap
preciate this; she had tho quickest
sense of humor of any woman you
ever saw!" And underneath these
light words is the thought, "How hap
py that dear mother made me, and
how I love her!" Minneapolis Trib
une. "Woman and literature.
Thero is at least a difference of opin
ion in regard to the alleged distaste of
women for severe and systematic rend
ing. Ono critic in tho National Review
asserts that neither for pleasure nor
on principle do they study books which
would cultivate their minds and give
them broad and stable views of life.
Another makes the comforting stato
Enent that tho good, or, as they are
?alled, the "solid," books taken by
women from tho English circulating li
onirics are in the proportion of two
to flvt a very creditable avernco. M.
tiniest Quentln Buucbart has shown
us, in "Les Fommes Bibliophiles," that
ninny rare nnd beautiful volumes wera
for two centuries collected and trens.
tired by French ladles, from Margaret
of ViiIoIb to Marie Antoinette. How
far the pleasures of a collector tnergo
Into the pleasures of a student Is nl
ways a delicate point to decide, but
Mr. Andrew Lang Is of the oplnlor.
that some of these ladies loved their
libraries even to the reading point.
"Books and art," he says, with happy
tolerance, "were probably more to
Mine, de Pompadour's liking than tho
diversions by which she beguiled tho
tedium of Louis XV.; and many a
time she would rather have been quiet
with her plays and novels than en
gaged In conscientiously conducted but
distasteful revels." La Ducbcsso do
Montpensler "La Grande Mademoi
selle" liked only serious and scholarly
books. The frivolous ones, sho used
to say, wearied and illagued her. La
Grande Mademoiselle was by no means
the wisest of women; but the choice
does credit to her taste for amuse
ment. The romances of her ago were
a shade less diverting than mathemat
ics. Harper's Bazar.
Tel 11 ii k Troubles
Is nobody, then, to confide a trouble
to anyone else? And are we never ttt
be sympathetic to those who are un
happy, gentle to unruly children, grac
ious to the awkward, kind to the un
couth? What folly to suppose so! A
trouble that one never confides is a
trouble that grows, says The Delinea
tor. Get rid of It before it swamps
you completely. Throw it overboard.
Refuse to let It remain, undermining
your nature or poisoning the very well
springs of your character. But when
you wish to discuss it, discuss it only
with those who are strong enough to
help you. If Instead of counsel you
make what you call sympathy the ob
ject of your search, you will find that
the desire for this sympathy grows by
what It feeds upon. It Is like an In
temperance, and will end by destroying
your moral system. Examine yourself,
therefore, and see whether It be not
true that instead of sympathy, you
have really been searching after con
dolence. Sympathy is helpful. It is
understanding. In it are included both
knowledge and a power to compre
hend and set straight in the path
again. Condolence Is another affair.
It soothes, but it does not bustalu. It
may wot with tears and warm with
caresses, seem very precious, very
sweet, but courage Is never quickened,
by it nor is hope reborn. Seek under
standing, then, not condolence. Go to
bo helped in your trouble, not extolled
in your martyrdom; go to be guided
through your dilemma, not to be flat
tered for your patience; go to havo
your eyes opened, opened about your
self, not to have them blinded by what
ill-judged affection, out of the fulness,
of a loving heart, may have to offer
you in condolence. Seek the lielnfut
friend as you would the wise doctor.
not the quack. Philadelphia Evening
bulletin.
The Ti IhIh of a Too-Tall Girl.
Her tragedy was ridiculous that
was the worst of it. Anyone recog
nizing it must laugh. Agatha herself
laughed forlornly, perhaps, and even
with wot cheeks at times but sho
never forgot its absurdity. If the fato
that bad forced the length of a vounc
glant upon hor had given her a giant's
spirits as well, it would have been
easier. But into her long frame had
been thrust the heart of a little wom
an, all that was gay and caressing
and dependent, that bad been laughed
back in vain since the days when they
began to call her Jumbo and to admon
ish her that sho was too big for "that."
"That" was everything her instincts
prompted. So poor Agatha learned to
laugh and to go through life looking
on looking down, rather; for thero
were few men who did not wince and
hastily find her a chair when they
wero left standing by her side. As a
rule she was even quicker at finding
the chair, than they wore poor
Agatha, to whom "just as high as my
heart" was the sweetest description
of a sweetheart ever penned! Juliet
Wilbor Tompkins, in Lipplncott's Mag.
a .inc.
3'ad for Smart Glrln.
The smart girls of to-day have a now
way of greeting you. it is quite In ac
cord with their picturesque, charming
ly feminine, quaint gowns. They never
think of shaking hands with you In
their own homos In tho conventional
old-time way. They greet you with
both hands, nnd their manner of put
ting their little hands into yours as
sures you a hearty welcome.
The superstitious girl has a substi
tute for tho lucky penny, and by the
way, it's tho eye of the poacock-fenther
which heretofore has been associated
only with ill luck. In pluco of hor
lucky penny sho carries a peacock's
eye mounted In glass. Woman's Homo
Companion.
lv
0