NOVELETTE.

Lake County Press, Issue 2512, 15 January 1914, Page 7

NOVELETTE.

THE LOTTERY TICKET. Caramba! no, he had never despaired of winning in tho lottery, though ho had never possessed a ticket. His luck was so great, you see, for Jose Bomba was a member of that largo and flourishing family of cheerful optimists. Assistant in the barber's shop of Don Simon Pesetro, in the good city of Talavera, he passed his life caressing dreams of improbable fortune and allowing himself to drift indifferently in the train of existence, but nevertheless in the firm conviction that he would one day be happy, rich in the company of his beloved Frasquita. It is useless to add that neither he nor Frasquita had a single marevedi ', between them to swell the common , fund. Both were simple employees in the house of Don Simon, who was the ■ greatest miser that the earth ever carried, and whilst Jose assisted in the . extraction of teeth and attended the patron when he went into the city to bleed a patient, Frasquita shaved and t scented the clients and curled them with her little hot tongs. Each received 200 francs a year, were cherished besides, and daily sustained themselves by a square of white bread, two sardines, and a half-a-dozen tomatoes, washed down with water at discretion. The day, even, when Jose was forced to depart as a soldier—conscripted, unfortunately—his tranquil mien was still unaltered. Frasquita wept like a thunder shower, but he consoled her, after his fashion. "Let come what may, Frasquita mia," said he, "I have the certainty that we shall one day enjoy happiness together. True, I do not know how, but what matter that ? Do not yield to chagrin, but leave thyself to be borne by events. There is certainly Someone in the heavens more powerful than we. Of what use is it, then, to give ourselves worry? If our efforts correspond with His views, our assistance will simply quicken success. If, on the contrary, they are in opposition to His projects, be certain that they will serve us nothing. Leave all, then, to the good God; have confidence, and keep up thv heart." And, still with a smile, Jose embraced Frasquita warmly and departed for four years' service in the carabiners of the Third. The young girl luckily profited by the comfortable philosophy. I repeat luckily,- because that old skinflint, her patron, seemed to make it his special business to render her life as hard : s possible. At first, through avarice, he did not replace Jose, but sought to make Fras- ' quita pull the teeth of her sex, and to ' practice Weeding on the arms of her ' contemporaries. But she was really so unskilled and awkward that Don i Simon, for the sake of his pocket, was forced to do it himself. Then, in revenge, he heaped her with insults, re- J proaches, and cavillings. Frasquita armed herself with patience, and only J when his back was turned 'wagged her thumbs" over her rosy little ears, which is the Spanish fashion of putting the finger derisively on the nose. Well, it went- on in this way for a ' long, long while, till one morning Fras- , quita came running in great haste to find the Don and to ask an advance on her wages. "Twenty francs, if you please, mon- ] "S sieur " said she: "I have urgent need ! of it." "Twenty francs, thou little spendthrift—tb,ou idle bag of bones! And, ! pray, for?" "Because, monsieur, because—of a dream I've had." "EhP A dream? Madre de Dios! And jwhat in common has thy dream with & gold sixty-real piece?" "TEis, monsieur; I dreamt that the '• winning number in the coming lottery, ; a week from Shrove Tuesday, was 5555, ! and I want to purchase it." The old scamp shrugged his shoulders, fut as he owed her a full ten months' wages, he grumblingly yielded, and Frasquita bore away her shining louis as joyfully as if she had pocketed 200,000 francs all in a lump. She was gayer still next morning; and when the annual Talavera fete arrived—for which, though, she had but a single day's leave of absence—she amused herself like a mad thing, danced like a Dervish, gorged herself with hunneloes fried in oil, roasted chestnuts and Valence filberts, and positively burned three candles before the statue of St. Roque—the most illustrious saint in the country—in order to obtain the boon of Jose's prompt retarn and the accomplishment of her own secret hopes. Shortly after this—it had been three years now that Jose Bomba had guarded the frontier of the north—the rumour suddenly spread through the burg that Simon Pesetero was going mad—a statement, as you will see, that did not rest upon a solid basis. At .Talavera they concerned themselves: only with politics. Don Simon and two or three other stubborn heads like himself were no exception to the fiery stay-at-homes. ; Well, one night the barber, who, j squared back in his arm chair, his spectacles on his nose and legs extended, communicated to his audience the details of the last pronimciamento, stopped suddenly and became very pale. "Eh? What's up, Simon? What's the matter now?" demanded his astonished colleagues. Simon recovered himself quickly. "Nothing, nothing," said he; "I'm only tired reading. Besides, there's nothing else interesting." » He got up, stretched himself lazily, j tiook a turn or two in the shop; then, ' Frasquita, as usual, taking *the air of the outer step, he went to ! the door and said to her in the softest! tones of his wheezy voice. j "My little Frasquita, thou shouldst come in and go bed. The air is fresh, and I fear that thou shalt take cold." I Everyone was. open-mouthed. In | tho memory of man no one had ever heard old Pesetero speak thus to an inferior. Frasquita herself was so ! thunderstruck, so scared, that she believed he mocked her, and she started j hastily to her chamber. She had scarcely reached the stairs, however, ■ when Don Simon called to her. "And I've been thinking Frasquita mia," said he, "that thou riseth a little too early of mornings ; at thy age ' one has need of plenty of good sleep, i Henceforth, little one, do not get up till five o'clock. It will suffice if thou . art below here by six." Whereupon Frasquita fled and Don Simon carefully folded and put in his pocket the paper he had kept in his hand, signifying thus to the guitar player and his friends that he preferred to be alone. They took the hint and departed, looking blankly at each other. To them nothing could possibly have been plainer. Don Simon Pesetero was suddenly touched in the head. > This conviction would have grown had they seen him, when alone, whip

1 out the paper again and quickly apf proach tho light. "No," said he, "I was not mistaken. It really is tho number —5555 —that has won the capital prize. Frasquita has now 200,000 francs. Two hundred thousand francs. Think of it"' And he promenaded feverishly back and forth, reflecting upon the means oi appropriating this fortune without danger to himself. He found but one, but that seemed to him good, and he descended next morning to the shop, still cheerfully smiling and rubbing his hands. . . Frasquita, all alone, was polishing the razors. "My child," said Don Simon sweetly, "sit thee besido me here and let us talk a little. It is now six years that thou hast served me faithfully, with zeal and fidelity. I have doubtless at times appeared to you a little harsh, a little brusque, but it was only to try thee. To-day it is over, the time of experiments ended " "It has been a little long, I think," hazarded Frasquita. "Perhaps; but as it is over, we'll talk of it no more. As thou seest, then, I have been able during all these six years to fully appreciate they excellent qualities. Thou art young. I, on my side, am 65, possess 80,000 francs in solid money, a sunny, well-situated and well-established shop, as thou knowest thyself, Frasquita, and I wish thee for a wife." At this blunt proposition Frasquita felt as if falling from tho sky. Certainly the prospect was not seducing, but tho fortune was beautiful. Nevertheless, she thought of Jose. "Will you give me a week to reflect?" said she. "Eight days? So be it. But on one condition: during this week thou wilt speak of it to no one; lam afraid to have thee influenced, and I wish tliee to take counsel only of thyself." "Agreed," said Frasquita. The young girl had promised to see no one for a week, but she had not promised not to write. She wrote, therefore, to Jose, who responded simply, true to his principles: "Let thyself be borne by events, Frasquita.'^ Then my faith, she said "yes." In a few days, by force of gold judiciously expended, all the formalities were complied with and tho marriage took place. All the city declared that Simon had truly gone mad, and with all the more reason, because he insisted that by contract each of them, ho to Frasquita and she to him, should first make over to the other a full and free gift of all their present goods and wealth to come. "For accidents, you know," declared Don Simon, "accidents will happen." Frasquita laughed, but, "borne by events," consented and sealed the bargain, and Don Simon, "borne by events," too, permitted them all to laugh till the eve of the wedding day and the knot well tied, when he could hold his tongue no longer. "By the way, my dear," said he, carelessly, to his new-made bride, "that lottery ticket of thine, No. 5555, I believe. What has thou done with it?" "Done with it?" returned Frasquita. "Nothing. I didn't buy it, and never intended to ; it was only a pretext. I wanted the twenty francs to spend at the Talavera fete." "What? Thou didst not buy it. Thou little liar! Thou little thief! Cheat! Trickster!" But really the details of that horrible scene had best be passed in silence. Don Simon raved, stormed, and swore, and finally fell in a fit of apoplexy, from which, as he was the only barber in Talavera, and unable to bleed himself, he was a corpse in less time than we can tell it. Jose, informed of the tragedy, quietly returned from the front as soon as Frasquita's mourning was finished, and with equal tranquility and freedom from astonishment, and still "borno by events," entered into possession of Don Simon's wife, shop, and fortune.

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