The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1868-04-19
eyes, yes. viii be there Good bye for the

AOu arc lOIScVbtuS SOUT SuOutet
Aaastase to the old cure, who, in his excite
neat, was going away without it. +" Here arr
thirty sers.v -
The old man looked ut the coin rendered;
and said:
"Keep it; it is for YOU
"Al1 for me-" exclaimed Anastase, dumb
doundered by sucli unusual generosity.
But the old cure, taking his way quietly
toward the Rue Ln Bouloi, muttered to himsel.
20! when one is happy, it is easy to do good"
J. At the time we are writing about steam ali
| not transport travellers and merchandise from
one part OF France to another with Il pidity
| which may be very advantageous to merchan-
disc, but is certainly not favorahl" to travellers
we mean ti:vecl. Who wish 10 ything
! The much vaunted progress OF modern times
dep ives us OF "a taOusaitl pleasures, to procure
WHIT, after all, is very dubious satii'iaction.
! Quitting Pals then, by the nine o'clock dill
gencc to EvreuX, the care, Blondeau, and his
friend the painter, Horace did not Arrive at
fleuIy till i,ilf pas: seven ihr mex: morning.
Fleury is Il ]i1tle Viltcr The high road from
Rouen to Paris. l. iss,'iat ;sl al the foot OF Il
slope, on the ri.:,t bank of the AndeHc. The
other side of the valley j. nce preci pit ,ns, and
the road HAS to ;5t-i'notni tJe ascriir III zg1aSs.
F'ain the s.lnmict he river >: escnts char. iln
scene, winding a> it does amid the ga dens int
oici,, DIS S.ccn meadows, any 'lEown iaiiow,
f.uIed by hills cultivated to hen We tops.
Come, INV deaf t.''au,:," /s,,l thc cure, de-
lighted at iinding hn,sc! i',c', ::.'n, I'll two
minutes shall De at home
Aud the and the yOl.-i:: man walked
along the main street, which indeed the
only one, as i'll III Other +. ench villages, The
fist returning the ll"tat ioIs of the peas::n:!y,
the :econd euioy in" wia the eve of an ItsG huts
built o. mud dried I'll the SUM- with licien clad
matches, and Little gardens in front. In less
than two minutes they had reached the Place."
where was the church, aud the l'ieshytery, OF,
as should say, the pnrSolase, aud the
Scotch, the maose, adjoineG it,
The cure knocked vt the door, which was ut
once opened by Mademoiselle Marguerite, the
worthy pastors old servant.
monsieur 1e Cure! how fortunater'
Yes, ma bonnie, IL is and do not come
Matlemoselie Marguerite looked mt Horace.
Ho.ace looked at Mademoiselle Marguerite.
She was little, thin, wrinkled old woman,
but the expression of her face seemed to reflect
the good nature of the cure.
Since you bring him, monsieur is welcome"
said Marguerite, dropping rustic curtesy. Is
monsieur going to stop at our hOuseV
AS long as ne likes, ma bonnie. And now
4set us some breakfast, for Monsieur Horace
and are hungry"
:'Ah! monsienrs name is Horacev
-. Yes. ma bonnie, and Horace will be n f, lend
OF yours, hope, as he is already the friend Of
your ni:,S,er.'
And SO saying, the artist offered his hand to
the old bonne, which she at once seized upon,
declaring that she loved him already, siuce he
loved her master; and bidding him be seated,
she started off 10 contoc; {, monster omeiet.
For now twenty yeats" said Inc cure, when
marguerite was gone, "s.e ma, Been almost
my only society. Her simple vel sal ion, my
bi eviary, few roses in my garden7,there,
1eaI The window ara my only resources.
x
instyuct and cnlighien those who will listen to
me. 1 comfort t3osc who ;lie j i suffering or
aficiion. prepare hem 10 inccU their C;:cn
to- tor when they shah ne; and t.-us my own
life ,ldes Oh to lis term"
Like ,ilat Of Il good cnd holy man." OBJ
service! HORACE
like that of uau who believes and who
loyrs," Interrupted il,e cure.
~ Breakfast oynr. The cure proposed that
Horace should select in lis small house II room
Vi iici he could adapt into studio, but Horace
took nc old mars
"Eelorc we do any thing for Tie church," he
observed, suppose VIC pay 1T llt,le viS!:
You have been so long away, l am sure I it will
be Il pleasure 10 you, aud shall see where my
picture is to be placed"
Thanks! thahhs! my dear freud you are
light. Let us go ut once TO my poor chu,c
The poorchurch! Th" old cure spoke the truth |
The walls were cracked. ad the steeple was
tumhling dowu. The very stones beneath the
porch we're broken, and in blacc%wauting With
iii were w!,itcwashed walls. wooden benches,
bapt'smal font of plaster, pulpit OF deal, and
an altar like Il sepu1chre, wit II great crucihN
il brass. Yet was this village chnicl. as IL
existed in 1885, the home of fciveuU pi:tyer and
of mild resignation. The cemetery stretched
out behind the church, ovrrshadowed by 4 lew
aged liuden trees. 1t was supposed to be en- |
closed by few broken rotten pal'nGs, but it
was i'll reality opel to all kinds OF in,rusions,
even to the poultry, dogs and pigs OF The vii.
lagc, and according 30 the touehin" eS ?ressionS
of the old curea his dca: dead could not be ~
peace" -
Horace, young Ill lu Pa isiiiu tnd an artist |
in otierNybtds, 1ne v no was touched With thu /
great vice OF all capitals, the s?ii it of shepn-
cism-becane pensive and even melancholy. lie
walked away from the dilapida.ed house OF
God by the side of the cure, musing in silence.
But as they turned into the street, they came
upon scout young peasant, whom the cure al |
once accosted:
"Ah, is that you, Vignon. We'll, are you
getting wiser-in "a better frame of mind, my !
friendW
Vignop, Instead of replying, cast IL jealous
glance ut Horace. There is nothing French |
peasant abhors much superiority, except |
in an old man. Eignon was one of those dis
cOntented dispositions who could not even
tolerate it in old age.
why, Monsieur lie Cure, to that" he at
last replied, 81 think have always been wise
aud L don't why You should always ser