MOUSETTE.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2401, 16 January 1909, Page 12 (Supplement)

MOUSETTE.

(From tlie French.) Mousette is the name I have always called her by, and how often have 1 pronounced if with affectionate gratitude when 1 recall that it is to Mousette that .1 owe all my happiness.

You want her picture? But, perhaps,, I can not- make you see her as I do, for. loving her, I doubtless see beauty and merit in her which you, being indifferent, would fail to observe. I will try to describe her, however.

Well, she is rather large, but well built. Her nose is straight and well set, her mouth opens on the widest teeth, her eyes are extremely soit, with a glance that is frank and honest, and her feet are very small —a sure sign of race. Probably all this does not constitute for you'-anything exceptional. But ! look at -Mousette across charming memories and gratitude. and to me- she. is perfect in every way.

Mousette has one fault. "Who, lor that matter, bus not? This fault is in contrast to her usual character, which is gentle and affectionate. To be brief, Mousette is occasionally taken with a sudden caprice—she refuses absolutely to do what is asked of her and sets up a resistance that- is quiet and passive, and which prayers, orders and threats fail to conquer. Then, as suddenly as it came, the caprice passes and Mousette becomes herself again. J see. that 1 have neglected to mention that Mousette is a. donkey. Perhaps it seem strange that I should owe my life’s happiness to a donkey, but I will tell you how it was. I shall have to go buck and introduce my Aunt Ursule. She was a woman whose passion in life was getting people married. Whenever she met an unattached man or woman, she gave herself and them no peace till he saw them bouud matrimonially for life.

Being twenty-five und unmarried, I had been an object of distress to my aunt for some time. All; her efforts had failed so far, but that only made her more determined to land me, and finally she resorted to methods which should have been beneath, her. There ivas a ghTythe daughter of an old friend, whom Aunt Ursule told me frankly I might as well make up my mind to marry. If I refused she would stop my generous allowance. If I accepted she would double it. This meant business and I was dismayed. I was just beginning to practice law and my fees did not more tlian buy my neckties, Well, Aunt Ursule represented Mdle. Natalie as being exquisitely beautiful land as I was entirely heart free, I consented, provided-she accepted me, to marry 'her.

So I was sent with a letter of introduction to Switzerland, where Mile. Natalie was spending the summer.

Oh, Aunt Ursule! And you said she was exquisitely beautiful! Perhaps she might have appealed to some taste, with her six feet of height and her beetling brows and her fiery glance. I knew at once that she was

aware of tho object of my visit. ' No secret could be kept from Iliac powerful personality. tSho looked mo comprehensively over and I imagined her saying, “So you have eomo to marry me? Well, we shall see.” Every day revealed more to mo the character of my possible future nvife. She lacked all sweetness and grace; her temper and her haughty egotism repelled me. She appropriated me and wo mado excursions every day to points of "interest. I was on tho point of-running away time and again; but 1 had promised my aunt and I cherished tho hope that she would herself break up the understandingr But as the. days passed I began to see in her signs that showed her -approval and hope faded.

Of course, you are wondering where Mousette comes in. Patience!

There was in the hotel, a young girl, quiet, modest, who remained constantly with her invalid mother. She seemed to know nobody and in a lit of unusual generosity Natalie invited her one day to join us in one of our excursions. Glad of the opportunity for a change the young girl accepted.

. As we had planned to make a somewhat arduous ascent, it was decided tbit they should ride. So we set forth, I oif foot, Natalie on a pony and the young girl. Mile. Cecile Landret, on a donkey. And now at last Mousette outers! Wo made the ascent without incident, but on the return Mousette wa-> suddenly seized with one of those caprices I mentioned. In a very steep place she planted her four feet firmly together, lowered, her head and declined resolutely to stir. Natalie rode on *md I walked unconsciously by her side, when \%o heard a cry : “Wait! I can’t make my donkey go.” I saw that Mile. Cecile was in a dangerous position, as the path was narrow and the precipice fell sheer at its edge. “Sit still and /-’ll come ‘and help you,” I called. “You shall do nothing of the sort, said Natalie, angrily, "1 will not be left alone.”

I paused in surprise, “The path is perfectly sate all the rest- of the wav. You do not need me and I must help Mile. Cecile, who is in real danger.” “If you go to her everything will be over between us,” she cried, furiously. “T will never speak to you again.” My pulse leaped at the throat. Quietly 1 bowed to her, then uin along the path to where the donkey still stood imperturbably waiting. I helped the young girl to dismount, and then tried to make the donkey go. But my efforts were in vain and Cecile and 1 were obliged to wait patiently until the mood passed. This took a long time, and Natalie had had time to finish her journey tiloiie and Cecile and I, too, became acquainted. I wrote a twelve-page letter to my aunt, telling her that Mile. Natalie had not only refused me, but bad sworn never to speak to. me again. J also said that I had fallen desperately in love with a beautiful' and charming girl and even at tlie risk of her angei intended to try to win her. Then I began to make love to Cecile. My aunt answered simply. “I don’t object in the least if she is a nice girl who suits you. I only wanted you married and settled for lifeTwo months later I married Cecile and bought Mousette.