The Argosy — page 64: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

A Night in a Monastery. 51 actually kissed me in spite of the dust and dirt of a sixteen hours’ journey. I was made le bien-venu. “fT could not make it out,” H. kept repeating every few moments, In a vague, abstracted, soliloquizing manner, not saying much for the balance of his mind. ‘Could not make it out. Thought some of you at home must be ill.” And I believe he did not quite make it out all the time I remained : for he persisted during the whole of that visit in producing from his capacious cellar, Chambertin at a guinea a bottle: in spite of all the powerful but hypocritical arguments I felt it my duty to advance against so mad and ruinous a proceeding. Gradually we settled down ; and, hungry as a hunter, I fell-to with a good will upon the savoury things before me, Chambertin included. But it was hard work to satisfy my own hunger and at the same time their thirst for home news. All went well, nevertheless, until a small voice from a distant chamber smote upon our ears. ‘Ventre affamé n’a point d’oreilles,” says a French proverb. That proverb is a delusion. “Ah ha!” said M., her eyes sae up with the glow of maternal pride. “ Madémoiselte i 1s awaking.” In a moment or two a small vision of beauty trotted into the room, her cheeks flushed with sleep ; opened great big hazel eyes at the rufhanly looking stranger, and ran to mamma for protection. But ere long she made firm friends: and when a ball, and a doll, and a beauti- ful white curly dog with a long tail, that barked, and showed his red rag of a tongue, and went upon wheels, had made successive inroads upon her tender heart and lively fancy, she went clean over to the enemy ; ready and willing at a moment’s notice to desert home, and mamma and papa, and come over to England with the said ruffian. ‘“*See how delicate and thin she is,” said M. in a pitiable voice. “For months and months we despaired of her life; day and night, night and day, we were in attendance upon her: and now she has to be fed thrice daily upon raw meat.” I fancy a half-stifled sigh rushed up the chimney away into the clouds at sight of the cherub. So time rolls on, thought I, somewhat sentimentally, bringing its chances and changes. Yesterday, boys and girls at home; life a long unbroken chain ot happiness, though we knew not then ow happy. ‘To-day, men and women: scattered, mar- ried and given in marriage: olive branches springing up around: the old home left, the old nest by some deserted. And, oh, sirs! never again in after life can any nest be quite the same ; any notes be quite so sweet as the mother’s gentle tones ; any eyes be quite so true; any influence be so abiding. Passion springs up in the heart of man, and love for woman, which is strong and pure and sweet too, or ought to be; which, too, has its influence in after life for weal cr woe. But far COnmiclooolkKks (SO)