Democratic Sentinel, Volume 21, Number 3, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 22 January 1897 — THE HELMET. [ARTICLE]

THE HELMET.

“But, uncle, I love my cousin.” “Get out.”’ “Give her to me!” “Don’t bother me!” “It will be my death!” “Nonsense! You’ll console yourself with some other girl.” “Pray ” My unue, whose back had been toward me, whirled around, his face was red to bursting, and brought his closed fist down upon the counter with a heavy thump. “Never!” he cried; "nevier! Do yon hear what I say 7” And as 1 looked at him beseechingly and with joined hands he went on: “A pretty husband you look like! Without a sou and dreaming of going into housekeeping! A nice mess I should .i;ake of it by giving you my daughterl It’s no use your insisting. You know that when I have said ‘No’ nothing under the sun can make me say ‘Yes!’ ” I ceased to make any further appeal. I knew my uncle —about as headstrong an old fellow as could be found In a lay’s search. 1 contented myself with giving vent to a deep sigh, and then •' em on with the furbishing of a big luuble-lianded sword, rusty from point to hilt. This memorable conversation took ;i*aci\ in fact, in the shop of my maerual uncle, a well-known dealer in annuities and objets d’art, 53 Rue des ’.laquettes, at the sign of the “Maltese Toss"—a perfect museum of euriosiles. The walls were hung with Marseilles and old Rouen china, facing ancient cuirasses, sabers and muskets and plcTire frames; below these were arranged > ; d cabinets, coffers of all sorts and -tatties of saints, one-armed or one■gged for the most part and dilapidat’d as to their gilding; then, here and i here. In glass cast's, hermetically closed and locked, there were kuiekkn&cks a iulinite variety—lachrymatories, tiny .rns, rings, precious stones, fragments »r marble, bracelets, crosses, neek-lai-es. medals and miniature Ivory gtatleltes, the yellow tints of which In the Min took momentarily a deshllke transparency.

Time out of mind the shop had belonged to the Coduberts. It pussed regularly from father to son, and my unde—his neighbors said —could not but be the possessor of a nice little fortune. Ile.d in esteem by all, a municipal councillor, impressed by the Importance and gravity of his office, short, fat, highly choleric and headstrong, but at bottom not in the least degree an unkind sort of man—such was my uncle Oorubert, my only living male relative, who as soon as I left school had elevated me tc i he dignity of chief and only clerk and shopman of the “Maltese Cross.” But my uncle was not only a dealer in antiquities and a municipal eouuellr. lie was yet more, and above all, ;ie father of my cousin Rose, with •.’horn I was naturally in love. To come back to the point at which I Tigressed Without paying any attention to the ghs which exhaled from my bosom , 'bile sconring tbe rust from my loug, wo-handed sword, my uncle, magni.viug glass in hand, was engaged In the examination of a lot of med&ls which ne had purchased that morntng. Sudlenly lie raised his head; 5 o’clock was striking. “The council!” he cried.

When my uncle pronounced that august word It made a mouthful; for a pin he would have saluted It bareheaded. But this time, after a moment’s ••onslderation, he tapped his forehead and added. In a tone of supreme relief; “No, the sitting does not take place before to-morrow—and I am forgetting that I have to go to the railway station to get the consignment of which 1 was advised this morning.” Rising from his seat and lying down his glass, he called out: “Rose, give me my cane and hat!” Then, turning toward me, he added, in a lower tone and speaking very quickly:

“As to you—don’t forget our converaatlon. If you think you can make me say ‘l'es,’ try It!—but don't think you’ll succeed. Meanwhile, not a word to Rose, or, by St. Barthelemy, my patron of happy memory, I’ll Instantly kick you out of doors!” At thnt moment Rose appeared with my uncle’s cane and hat, which she handed to him. He kissed lor ou the forehead; then, giving mo a last but eloquent look, hurried from the shop. I went on scouring my double-handed •word. Rose came quietly toward me. “What Is the matter with my father?" she asked. “He seems to be angry with yon.” I looked at her—her eyes were so black, her look so kind, her mouth so rosy and her teeth so white that I told her all—my love, my suit to her father ■od his rough refusal. 1 could not help i t- -after all, It was his fault He was f aot there; I determined to brave his an- I ger. Besides, there is nobody like timid persons for displaying courage under certain circumstances. My cousin said nothing; she only held down her eyes—while her cheeks were as red as those of cherries In May. 1 checked myself. “Are you angry with me?” I asked tremblingly. “Are you angry with me, Rose?” She held out to me her hand. On that, my heart seething with audacity, my head on Are, I cried: "Rose—l swear it! I will be your husband I” And as she shook her head and looked at me sadly I added: “Oh, I well know that my uncle is self-will-ed, but I will be more self-willed still; and, since he must be forced to say ‘Yes,’ I will force him to say it.” “But how?” asked Rose. Ah! how? That was exactly the difficulty. But, no matter; I would find a way to surmount It At that moment a heavy stop resounded in the street. Instinctively we moved away from each other; 1 returned to my double-handed sword and Rose, to keep herself In countenance, set to dusting with a comer of her apron a little statuette in Its faded fed velvet ease. My uncle entered. Surprised at finding us together, he stopped short and looked sharply from one to the other. We each of us went on rubbing without raising our heads. “Here, take this,” said my uncle, handing me a bulky parcel from under his ana. “A splendid purchase, you'll