One night in 1801 a little girl about one year old was deposited on the steps of the foundling hospital at Brest. She was dressed with much finery and a note attached to her skirts told that her name was Solange and that she would be reclaimed by her father, says an exchange. The claim was never made, however, and in due time the child was transferred to the orphan asylum to be educated. As she grew up she developed a most extraordinary beauty; but her intellect appeared to be very weak and she suffered from frequent nervous fits. When she was twelve years old she was sent out into the streets to sell flowers, and her beauty and her modesty attracted many people’s good will; but she grew weaker and weaker, and at last she died, or at least it was thought so. According to French custom, she was buried in an open basket, and, as it was winter and the soil was frozen, she was laid into the grave covered only with a thin layer of sand. During the night she awoke, and, pushing the sand away, crept out from the grave. Not exactly understanding what had taken place, she was not so very much frightened; but in crossing the glacis between the cemetery and the fortifications she was suddenly stopped by the cry: “Qui vive?” and, as she did not answer, the sentinel fired and she fell to the ground. Brought into the guardhouse, her wound was found to be very slight and she soon recovered. But her singular history an also her great beauty had made so deep an impression on a young lieutenant of the garrison–Kramer–that he determined to be her protector and sent her to one of the most fashionable educational establishments in Paris. During the next few years Kramer was much tossed about by the war; but when in 1818 he returned to Paris he found Solange a full-grown woman, not only beautiful but accomplished and spirited, with no more trace of intellectual weakness or nervous fits. He married her and for several years the couple lived happily in Paris.
A pretty story, though odd.
What’s odd about this story is the complete lack of detail — not even an attribution to another periodical. It’s not likely that the Ann Arborite editor knew Kramer and Solange personally, is it? Too bad “Kramer” and “Solange” are very common names on the web (and often appear on the same page). Is this a known story, or perhaps it is from a novel? If you know, please tell.