Thus vanished like a dream the romance of my life. Indeed, but for the
lurid gleam of this strange jewel, a true type and testimony of it,
I might yet grow to persuade myself it was a dream, so wondrous it
becomes to me in memory.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
THE ADVOCATE'S WEDDING-DAY.
BY CATHERINE CROWE.
Antoine de Chaulieu was the son of a poor gentleman of Normandy, with
a long genealogy, a short rent-roll, and a large family. Jacques Rollet
was the son of a brewer, who did not know who his grandfather was; but
he had a long purse, and only two children. As these youths flourished
in the early days of liberty, equality, and fraternity, and were near
neighbors, they naturally hated each other. Their enmity commenced at
school, where the delicate and refined De Chaulieu, being the only
_gentilhomme_ amongst the scholars, was the favorite of the master (who
was a bit of an aristocrat in his heart), although he was about the
worst dressed boy in the establishment, and never had a sou to spend;
whilst Jacques Rollet, sturdy and rough, with smart clothes and plenty
of money, got flogged six days in the week, ostensibly for being stupid
and not learning his lessons,--which he did not,--but in reality for
constantly quarrelling with and insulting De Chaulieu, who had not
strength to cope with him.
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