Our hero still glories in the sunshine, and takes his ease stretched out before his own doorway.
HISTORY OF THE HOSTS OF THE TERRACE—Continued.
The Duchess was by nature a person born to be plump and healthy; to eat her food with the appetite of a country clown, and to enjoy drinking and dining with a savage relish. But she crushed and curbed these tendencies before the world, gratifying them only in secret. In token of her exalted station she professed sensitiveness and delicacy. She was frightened by the fall of a leaf, the flight of a bird or insect, and above all, by her own bulky shadow.
Before folk she uttered nothing but plaintive, feeble cries, reserving the full blast of her lungs for the ears of the Duke. The purest air was too heavy for this ethereal Owl, who detested the sun—the God of paupers, as she termed it—Her husband, astonished at the fine carriage, grace, and society-refinement of his poor barn-Owlet, exhausted his resources in efforts to keep pace with her. Alas! his highest flights left him far behind, so far, indeed, that his faithful spouse bemoaned and bescreeched her fate in being wedded to a person so hideously vulgar.
The Duchess eloped with a Kite, and no one pitied the Duke, for the fall brought by pride never begets pity.
As a finishing blow the lady left a perfumed note for her husband on the spot where they performed their moonlight duets on the terrace. It ran as follows:—
“THE DUKE,—It is part of my destiny to be misunderstood, I shall not therefore attempt to explain to you the motive for my departure,
“(Signed) THE DUCHESS OF THE TERRACE.”
The Duke stood petrified for some moments, after which, seized with a fit of despair, he rushed down to the edge of a dark pool, to ascertain whether the water would inspire him with courage to drown himself. First, he cautiously dipped his beak into the pool to feel its temperature, just as the moon stole out from behind a cloud, and he beheld his image on the surface. His mind at once grasped the frightful picture of his ruffled plumage, and he found sweet solace in arranging his toilet. The notion crossed his mind that the Duchess might repent, if she knew her Lord had died dressed in a style becoming his station.