Indianapolis Times, Volume 35, Number 247, Indianapolis, Marion County, 23 February 1923 — Page 8

8

Alice of Old Vincennes By Maurice Thompson COPYRIGHT, 1908, BY ALICE LEE THOMPSON

Begin here ALICE wan a child of the American wilderness, a duaghter of old Vincennes on the Wabash In the trying days of the ear.y seventies. Famous among the landmarks of Vincennes for many years was an old cherry tree on the Roussillon estate. Under lie curiously gnarled branches, at the time this story is written, may be seen the boyish and pleasure loving Alice teasing JEON, a little hunchback, by holding a cluster oi the luscious cherries higher than he can reach. She is interrupted by FATHER BERET, a Catholic priest from the church near by. familiarly known by the native Indians as Father Blackrcbe. Go on with the story , ,"W "ry T ELL.,*’ said the priest, \ V / evidently trying hard to y y exchange his laugh for a look of regretful resignation, “you will have your own way, my child, and—” “Then you will have pies galore and no end of claret!” she interrupted, at the same time ■ ——— stepping to the I? C-'< withe-tied and H • of the yard and . opening it. “Come ,n > >' ou dear, good !>; jZ Father, before the rain shall begin, %fk. and sit with me ;£* Y on the gallery lx (the creole word ryf for veranda) till Vs the storm is over.” i- JMMH3 Father Beret seemed not loath ' j 0 en ter, albeit he offered a we ale MAURICE protest against deTHOMPSON laying some task he had in hand. Alice reached forth and pulled him In. then reclosed the queer little gate and pegged it. She caressingly passed her arm through his and looked Into his weather-stained old face with childlike affection. There was not a photographer’s camera to be had In those days; but what If a tourist with one in hand could have been there to take a snapshot at the priest and the maiden ns they walked arm in arm to that squat little varenda! The picture today would be worth its weight in a firstwater diamond. It would Include the cabin, the cherry tree, a glimpse of the raw. wild background and a sharp portrait group of Pere Beret, Alice and Jean the hunchback. To compare it with a photograph of the same spot now would give a perfect Impression of the historic atmosphere, color and conditions which cannot be set in words. But we must not belittle the power of verbal description. What if a thoroughly trained newspaper reporter had been given the freedom of old Vincennes on the Wabash during the first week of June. 1778, and we now had his printed story! What a supplement to the photographer's pie tures! Well, we have neither photo graphs nor graphic report: yet there they are before us. the gowned and straw capped priest, the fresh-fßced, coarsely-clad and vigorous girl, the grotesque little hunchback, all just as real as life itself. Each of us can see them, even with closed eyes. Led by that wonderful guide. Imagination, we step back a century and more to look over a scene at once strangely attractive and unspeakably forlorn. What was it that d r ew people away from the old countries, from the cities, the villages and the vineyards of beautiful France, for example, to dwell in the wilderness, amid wild beasts and wilder savage Indians, with a rude cabin for a home and the exposures and hardships of pioneer life for their dally experience? Men like Gaspard Roussillon are of a distinct stamp. Take him as he was. Born in France, on the banks of the Rhone near Avignon, he came as a youth to Canada, whence he drifted on the tide of adventure this way and that, until at last he found himself, with a wife, at Post Vincennes, that lonely picket of religion and trade, which was to become the center of civilizing energy for the great North-

■western territory. M. Roussillon, had no children of his own; so his kind heart opened freely to two fatherless and motherless waifs. These were Alice Roussillon, and the hunchback. Jean. Xhe former was 12 years old, when he adopted her, a child of Protestant parents, while Jean had been taken, when a mere babe, after bis parents had been killed and scalped by Indians. Madame Roussillon, a professed Invalid, whose appetite never failed and whose motherly kindness expressed Itself most often through strains of monotonous falsetto scolding, was a woman of little education and no refinement; while her husband clung tenaciously to his love of books, especially to the romances most In vogue when he took leave of France. M. Roussillon had been. In a way, Alice's teacher, though not greatly Inclined to abet Father Beret In his kindly efforts to make a Catholic of the girl, and most treacherously disposed toward the good priest In the matter of his well-meant attempts to prevent her from reading and re-rjad-TO DARKEN HAIR APPLY SAGE TEA Look Young! Bring Back Its Natural Color, Gloss and Attractiveness Common garden sage brewed into a heavy tea with sulphur added, will turn gray, streaked and faded hair beautifully darii and luxuriant. Just a few applications will prove a revelation if your hair Is fading, streaked or gray. Mixing the Sage Tea ar.d Sulphur recipe at home, though, Is troublesome. An easier way 13 to get a bottle of Wyeth’s Sage and Sulphur Compound at any drug store all ready for use. This is the old-time recipe improved by the addition of Other Ingredients. "While wispy, gray, faded hair Is not elnful, we all desire to retain our youthful appearance and attractiveness. By darkening your hair with Wyeth’s Sage and Sulphur Compound no one can tell, because It does it so naturally, so evenly. You just dampen a sponge or soft brush with it tend draw this through your hair, taking one small strand at a time; by morning all gray hairs have disappeared. and, after another application or two, your hair becomes beautifully dark, glossy, soft and luxuriant. —Advertisement.

ing the aforesaid romances. But for many weeks past Gaspard Roussillon had been absent. from home, looKing after his trading schemes with the Indians; and Pere Beret acting on the suggestion of the proverb about the absent cat and the pjaying mouse, had formed an allianace offensive and defensive With Mrae. Roussillon, In which it was strictly stipulated that ail novels and romances were to be forcibly taken and securely hidden away from Mademoiselle Alice; which, to the best of Mine. Roussillon’s ability, had accordingly been done. Now, while the wind strengthened and the softly booming summer shower came on apace, the heavy cloud lifting as it advanced and show ing under it the dark gray sheet of the rain, Pere Beret and Alice sat under the clapboard roof behind the vines of the veranda and discussed what was generally uppermost in the priest's mind upon such occasions, the good of Alice’s immortal soul—a subject not absorbingly interesting to her at any time. It was a standing grief to the good cld priest, this strange perversity of the gis in the matter of religious duty, as he saw it. True she had a faithful guardian in Gaspard Roussillon; but. much as he had done to aid the church's work in general, for he was always vigorous and liberal, he could not be looked upon as a very good Catholic; and of course his in t’uence was not effective in the right direction. But then Pere Beret saw no reason why, In due time and with patient work, aided by Mme. Roussillon and notwithstanding Gaspard’s treachery, he might not safely lead Alice, whom he loved as a dear child, into the arms of the Holy Church, to serve which faithfully, at all hazards and In all places, was his highest aim. “Ah, my child," he was saying, “you are a sweet, good girl, after all, much better than you make yourself out to be. Tour duty will control you! you will do it nobly at last, my child." “True enough. Father Beret, true enough!” she responded, laughing, “your perception is most excellent, which I will prove to you immediately.” She rose while speaking and went Into the house. “I’ll return in a minute or two.” she called back from a region which Pere Beret well knew was that of the pantry; “don’t get impatient and go away!” Pere Beret laughed softly at the preposterous suggestion that he would even dream of going out in the rain, which was now roaring heavily on the loose board roof, and miss a cut of cherry pie—a cherry pie of Alice's making! And the Roussillon claret, too, was always excellent. "Ah, child,” he thought, “your old father is not going away.” She presently returned, hearing on a wooden tray a ruby-stained pie and a short, stout bottle flanked by two glasses. “Os course I’m better than I sometimes appear to be,” she said, almost humbly, but with mischief still in her voice and eyes, “and I shall get to be very good when I have grown old. The sweetness of my present nature is in this pie.” She set the tray on a three-legged stool which she pushed close to him.

“There now,” she said, “let the rain come, you’ll be happy, rain or shine, while the pie and wine last. I’ll be bound.’’ Pere Beret fell to eating right heartily, meantime handing Jean a liberal piece of the luscious pie. "It is good, my daughter, very good, indeed,’’ the priest remarked with his mouth full. “Madame Roussillon has not neglected your culinary education.” Alice filled a glass for him. It was Bordeaux and very fragrant. The bouqet reminded him of his sunny boyhood in France, of his journey up to Paris and of hla careless, Joybrimmed youth in the gay city. How far away, how misty, yet how thrill Ingly sweet it all was! He sat with half closed eyes awhile, sipping and dreaming. The rain lasted nearly tVo hours; but the sun was out again when Pere Beret took leave of his young friend. They had been having another goodnatured quarrel over the novels, and Madame Roussillon had come out on the veranda to Join In. “I’ve hidden every book of them,” said Madame, a stout and swarthy woman whose pearl-white teeth were her only mark of beauty. Her voice Indicated great stubbordnness. "Good, good, you have done your very duty, Madame.” said Pere Beret, with immense approval in his charming voice. "But, Father, you said awhile ago that I should have my own way about this,” Alice spoke up with spirit; ‘and on the strength of that remark of yours I gave you the pie and wine. You’ve eaten my pie and swigged the wine, and now—” Pere Beret put on his straw cap, adjusting It carefully over the shin ing dome out of which had come so many thoughts of wisdom, kindness and human sympathy. This done, he gently laid a hand on Alice’s bright crown of hair and said: “Bless you. my child. I will pray to the Prince of Peace for you as long as I live, and I will never cease to beg the Holy Virgin to Intercede foi you and lead you to the Holy Church.” He turned and went away; but when he was no farther than the gate, Alice called out: “O Father Beret, I forgot to show you something!” “You know that Madame Roussilon has hidden all the novels from me.” She was fumbling to get something out of the loose front of her dresss. “Well, just take a glance at this, will you?” and she showed him a little leather-bound volume, much cracked along the hinges of the* beck. It was Manon Lescaut, that dreadful romance by the famous Abbe Prevolt. Pere Beret frowned and went his way shaking his head; but before ho reached his little hut near the churcn he was laughing in spite of himself. “She’s not so bad, not so bad,” he thought aloud, “It's only her young, ndependent spirit taking the bit for a wild run. In her sweet soul she is as food as she Is pure.” CHAPTER II 4 LTHOUGH Father Beret was for many years a missionary' on the Wabash, most of the time at Vincennes, the fact that no mention of him can be found In the records is not stranger than many other things connected with the old

DOINGS OF THE DUFFS-

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THEM DAYS IS GONE FOREVER—

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town's history. He was, like nearly all the men of his calling*ln that day, a self-effacing and modest hero, apparently quite unaware that he deserved attention. He and Father Gibault. whose name is so beautifully and nobly connected with the stirring achievements of Col. George Rogers Clark, were close friends and often companions. Probably Father Glbault himself fame will never

OUT OUR WAY—By WILLIAMS

THE OLD IIOHL TOWN—By STANLEY

fade, would have been today as obscure as Father Beret, but for the opportunity given him by Clark to fix his name in the list of heroic patriots who assisted in winning the greath Northwest from the English. Vincennes, even in the earliest days of its history, somehow kept up communication and, considering the circumstances, close relations with New Orleans. It much nearer Detroit;

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

but the Louisiana colony stood next to France in the imagination and longing of priests, voyageurs, couraurs de bols and reckless adventurei-s who had Latin blood in their veins. Father Beret first came to Vincennes from New Orleans, the voyage up the Mississippi, Ohio and Wabash, in a pirogue, lasting through a whole summer and far Into the autumn. Since his arrival the post had experienced many

Danny Is a Diplomat

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Administer This On Your Accordion

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vicissitudes, and at the time In wh cli our story opens the British go' v>rnment claimed right of dominion aver the great territory drained h„ the Wabash, and, Indeed, over a large, Indefinitely outlined part of the North American continent lying above Mexico; a claim just then being vigorously questioned, flintlock in hand, by the Anglo-American colonies. Os course the handful of French people at Vinoennes, so Afar away

FRECKLES AND niS FRIENDS—By BLOSSER

OUR BOARDING HOUSE—By AHERN

from every center of information, and wholly occupied with their trading, trapping and missionary work, were late finding out that war existed between England and her colonies. Nor did it really matter much with them, one way or another. They felt secure in their lonely situation, and so went on selling their trinkets, weapons, domestic implements, blankets and Intoxicating liquors to the Indians, whom they held bound to them with a

FRIDAY, FEB. 23, 1923

—By ALLMAN

—By AL POSEN

power never possessed by any other white dweller In the wilderness. Father Beret was probably subordinate to Father Gibault. At all events the latter appears to have had nominal charge of Vincennes, and It can scarcely be doubted that he left Father Beret on the Wabash, while he went to live and labor for a time at Ivaskaskia beyond the plains of Illinois. (To Be ContinoedJ