The Free lance.
Published Monthly during the College Year by the Students of
The Pennsylvania State College,
Vol. XI.
Low, distant thunder in the west;
Swift-flying clouds in sombre drest;
A faint, vague feeling of unrest —
A rift across the murky sky,
Which shows the eager, watching eye,
The blue of heaven’s canopy—
Sunshine again.
Jacques Roulet was very poor, for he was a young and strug
gling author, and such are not often blessed with untold wealth.
But he was earnest and ambitious, and had splendid talents —
talents which had already begun to show a bright future in pros
pect for their owner. Yet just now Jacques was exceedingly
despondent. His worldly possessions amounted to but ten francs,
and that, he knew, would keep him but a short time—a week at
the most. After that he knew not what might be his fortune.
Of course, he had always a last resort, for the deep Seine ran close
by. Even now, as he sat at the single window in his attic
chamber, he could hear its soft murmuring, and the temptation
was strong upon him to yield to its enticing song, to throw him
self into its ever ready arms, and thus to end all his troubles.
But a stronger spirit Within held him back. Why should he give
up the battle of life? To do so would be to show cowardice, and
if there was any one thing which Jacques Roulet thoroughly de
spised it was ,a coward. No, he would not doit. On the other
hand he would persevere, he would rise, he would make for him-
JUNE, 1897.
FICKU3 JUNE.
And then the rain.
THE EAST CHAPTER.
No. 3.