The examiner. [volume] (Louisville, Ky.) 1847-1849, 1849-07-21

4 taught him. said Richard. The lii
tie fellow, did me service one day, and
returned it by doing him another
"A fine service truly said Calinette.
III this child is ruined, Richard, we shall
have you TO thank for il. Teach him to
read! Did any one ever hear such folly!
Perhaps you have taught him to write rool
Alas. can't do that myself, mistress!
replied Richard.
That's fortunate, I'm sure; and should
like to know what good will learning ever
do him.?
That's not the question, wife, said La
Rance: certainly, if could, | should
ike TO have him instructed; but poverty is
sad thing
'Oh, indeed il u.s. said Pierre, with q
deep sigh. Then taking courage, he ad.
dsd, However. father, il you would
Send you too school, suppose you
meant interrupted his father. You know
| have not the means; can't afford to feed
idle mouths.
Here is your supper, said his mother,
giving him basin OF soup and bit oil
brown bread.
May have my book?' asked Pierre,
taking his supper with one hand, and OK.
tending the other towards his father.
The latter handed it to him, and asked,
who wrote this boolS!'
Jean de Roly,' replied Pierre.
who was that priests? asked his mother,
as she continued to help the soup.
He was one Of the most eloquent orators
OF the last century, mother, replied the
child. He was chancellor and archdeacon
of the church Of Notre Dame in Paris
He knew how to read and write too ad-
ded Pierre, with a sigh; so that in l46l,
when parliament sent a remonstrance to
Louis XI., it was he who composed it,
Afterwards in 1888, the clergy of Paris
sent him to the assembly of the States
General at Tours, where he spoke Of the
suppression of abuses. Charles VIII, the
son Of Louis Al, and the father of our pre-
sent king, Louis XII, was so much pleased
with him, that be appointed him his slmon-
er, and kept him st court
There. there--that will do, cried Cali
nette.
You see now was the means Of teach
ing all that to the little fellow said Rich.
ard proudly
Fine things, I'm sure, to teach him! Go
to bed, Master Wiseacre,' added she, Civ.
ing her son. slight push.-'go and look
for your Jean Jolyr
Jean de Roly, mother and / can't 20
look for him, because he died twenty.sx
years ago.
But for that, suppose you'd go TO him,
and all the grand people in Paris; and
you, iorsooth, the son of charcoal burner
in Picardy!'
MY father certainly burns charcoal,
said Pierre in low Tone and yet he has
gentle blood in his veins.
And you think yourself gentleman, |
SUPPOSED said bis mother.
Oh cried the boy, Il care not for rank
or wealth; all | want is to gain knowl.
edge
We'll, 90 to bed, and dream that you
have it, and il will be all the same
thing
Goodnight, mother; goodnight, father;
goodnight, Richsrd;' said Pierre, and went
to sleep in the stable, among bis sheep.
The next morning. when Pierre prepared
as usual TO take out his flock for the day,
he paused on the threshold Of his fathers
cottage, and turning back, said, Kiss me,
mother
What for, childY replied Cslinette.
old LouisOn says replied Pierre, that
we never know when We may die. If you
were never TO see me egein'---
What strange ideas the boy has! said
his mother, giving him a hearty kiss
There, Pierrot lis time for you to CO.
An hour afterwards, Pierre. having led
his flock 10 their accustomed pasture, COM
mended him to the care OF his faithful dog,
and turned his STEPS toward the Paris road.
Something in his heart reproaehed him for
leaving his parents, and told him that an
enterprise commenced against their wishes
could not prosper; but the boy tried to sti.
fe the uneasy feeling, and walked on, car.
ying stick and a bundle containing
change Of clothes, few books, and the
provision given him by old Louison.
He had not gone far when be saw Rich.
ard coming toward him.
Where are you goingP asked The man.
4 can't tell you, Richard; fer il they
ssk you at home, want you to be able to
,ay you do not know
i guess it, child-you're going to leave
u.s. and the old servants voice faltered as
he spoke.
Richard, said the child, bursting into
ears, dear Richard, don't betray me-
/ Oh taught me to read; that was like OPEN
ng the gate OF beautiful garden, and now
want to enter and taste the fruit. am
,oing to Paris
Without your fathers permission?'
Yes; you know if ! bad asked him, he
would have refused. l shall never forget
ou, Richard; and when am learned and
He could say no more; but
sshing away the tears that blinded him, |
vas some distance on his way before Rich
nd turned slowly toward home.
That evening there was sad consterna.
ion in the farmhouse when the sheep re-
urned under the sole escort Of Loulou the |
log.
Pierre! PierTe!---where is PierreP re-
ounded ON all sides. aHa
Richard alone sat silently in a corner
'raying God to protect the little traveller.
After much fatigue, Pierre La Rance at