The Youth of Jefferson | Page 3

you with Belle-bouche, as you call
her."
"Philippa? No, no!" sighed Jacques; "she's too brilliant."
"For you?"
"Even for me--me, the prince of wits, and coryphæus of coxcombs: yes,
yes!"
And the melancholy Jacques sighed again, and looked around him with
the air of a man whose last hope on earth has left him.
His friend chokes down a laugh; and stretching himself in the bright
spring sunshine pouring through the window, says with a smile:
"Come, make a clean breast of it, old fellow. You were there to-day?"
"Yes, yes."
"Have a pleasant time?"
"Can't say I did."
"Were there any visitors?"
"A dozen--you understand the description of visitors."
"No; what sort?"
"Fops in embryo, and aspirants after wit-laurels."

"It is well you went--they must have been thrown in the shade. For you,
my dear Jacques, are undeniably the most perfect fop, and the greatest
wit--in your own opinion--of this pleasant village of Devilsburg."
"No, no," replied his companion with well-affected modesty; "I a fop! I
a pretender to wit? No, no, my dear Sir Asinus, you do me injustice: I
am the simplest of mortals, and a very child of innocence. But I was
speaking of Shadynook and the fairies of that domain. Never have I
seen Belinda, or rather Belle-bouche, so lovely, and I here disdainfully
repel your ridiculous calumny that she's in love with you, you great
lump of presumption and overweening self-conceit! Philippa too was a
pastoral queen--in silk and jewels--and around them they had gathered
together a troop of shepherds from the adjoining grammar-school,
called William and Mary College, of which I am an aspiring bachelor,
and you were an ornament before your religious opinions caught from
Fauquier drove you away like a truant school-boy. The shepherds were
as usual very ridiculous, and I had no opportunity to whisper so much
as a single word into my dear Belle-bouche's ear. Ah! how lovely she
looked! By heaven, I'll go to-morrow and request her to designate some
form of death for me to die--all for her sake!"
With which words the forlorn Jacques gazed languidly through the
window.
At the same moment a bell was heard ringing in the direction of the
College; and yawning first luxuriously, the young man rose.
"Lecture, by Jove!" he said.
"And you, unfortunate victim, must attend," said his companion.
"Yes. You remain here?"
"To the end."
"Still resisting?"
"To the death!"

"Very well," said Jacques, putting on his cocked hat, which was
ornamented with a magnificent feather. "I half envy you; but duty
calls--I must go."
"If you see Ned Carter, or Tom Randolph of Tuckahoe, tell them to
come round."
"To comfort you? Poor unfortunate prisoner!"
"No, most sapient Jacques: fortunately I do not need comfort as you
do."
"I want comfort?"
"Yes; there you are sighing: that 'heigho!' was dreadful."
"Scoffer!"
"No; I am your rival."
"Very well; I warn you that I intend to push the siege; take care of your
interests."
"I'm not afraid."
"I am going to see Belle-bouche again to-morrow.
"Faith, I'll be there, then."
"Good; war is opened then--the glove thrown?"
"War to the death! Good-by, publican!"
"Farewell, sinner!"
And with these words the melancholy Jacques departed.
CHAPTER II.

JACQUES SHOWS THE ADVANTAGE OF BEING LED CAPTIVE
BY A CROOK.
It was a delicious day, such a day as the month of flowers alone can
bring into the world, and all nature seemed to be rejoicing. The peach
and cherry blossoms shone like snow upon the budding trees, the oriole
shot from elm to elm, a ball of fire against a background of blue and
emerald, and from every side came the murmuring flow of streamlets,
dancing in the sun and filling the whole landscape with their joyous
music.
May reigned supreme--a tender blue-eyed maiden, treading upon a
carpet of young grass with flowers in their natural colors; and nowhere
were her smiles softer or more bright than there at Shadynook, which
looks still on the noble river flowing to the sea, and on the distant town
of Williamsburg, from which light clouds of smoke curl upward and
are lost in the far-reaching azure.
Shadynook was one of those old hip-roofed houses which the traveller
of to-day meets with so frequently, scattered throughout Virginia,
crowning every knoll and giving character to every landscape. Before
the house stretched a green lawn bounded by a low fence; and in the
rear a garden full of flowers and blossoming fruit trees made the
surrounding air faint with the odorous breath of Spring.
Over the old house, whose dormer windows were wreathed with the
mosses of age, stretched the wide arms of two noble elms; and the
whole homestead had about it an air of home comfort, and a quiet,
happy repose, which made many a wayfarer from far