The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1868-12-27

MORNING STAR AND CATHOLIC MESSENGER.
NEW ORLEANS. sUNDAr. DECEMBER27. 1868.
Continued from First Page)
neighborhood.. Persons crowded around his
cage every day, as they formerly did to the
dinner of the king. At first his visitors were most
other, relating his numerous tricks then came
little girls, bringing him dainties and calling
to him with their sweet voices, and the old
bachelor on the third story also came to see
Spring, and would always stop to relate the
history of his dead canary. Good Father
Mark! how he enjoyed his pets triumph.
bird H tst he wished to h@ ai was
understood and retained. The bullfnch forgot
his woodland songs to carol the air whistIed
by his master. Such, at length became the
celebrity of Spring, that Mark thought he
ought not to leave him any longer in his poor
cage; he must have dwelling worthy of his
visitors.
Our worthy tailor, therefore, ransacking
every corner of his money-drawer, started out
one fine day with every penny he possessed,
and soon returned in triumph with the prettiest
It was made of bars of wire delicately turned,
ornamented with glass beads and silver fl
agree porcelain managers and crystal trOughs !;
the Emperor could have desired no better.
The door of this tiny palace was opened, and
its future occupant was introduced. But alas!
home, Spring flew Eere and there With Wit "s AN
angry air, striking himself against the bars
and endervoring to escape from his beautiful
prison.
"This home sickness will pass away after
awhile" said Mark to himself; tomorrow we
shall hear him singing his Tie Dean of joy"
But the following day and several Others
passed, and not a chirp was heard. The eXiled
bird remained on his perch silent and sad. In
vain his master increased his allowance of cake
grass S wee ss i Tsh
down, feathers rufied, and dull, languid eyes,
appeared pining away. Mark could stand it no
produced the old cage still hung with the
withered chick-weed. On seeing it, the prison.
q aroused himself; he raised his wings and
of the bars he suddenly uttered lively cry.
HIS love for life seemed to have returned; with
familiar scenes he recalled his forgotten songs.
His voice was never SO well modulated or so
sonorous; it filed the little chamber of the
tailor Singing one after another of his old
airs, he seemed to exhaust his melodies in the
fullness of his joy. Wiser than many men, he
mad refused opulence in order to insure q
peaceful life and an humble asylum in his own
language he sung those beautiful words of
Virgil:
roof where he was born, and beholds the rpen-
ing harvests of his patrimonial estate"
Sweet bird, thy wisdom often recurs to my
mind to enlighten and strengthen me- All!
that thou couldst impart 10 every one thy love
simplicity ant. Vie necessity OF mqderat ion
Why is not thy joyous chant as it mounts to
heaven, understood by every passer by. 1t
seems to say: Contine your desires within the
limits OF your possessions; it is moderation in
our wishes that make us rich; man ,rants but
hfts e, mere Ielo'r, ard that Htite not long That it
spoken to my mind. But hear his songs no
more lie Is gone, never to Ieturii.
For some months past Father Marks work
was d'minlshing; and at length he wac with
out any. The poor tailor was obliged to accept
Journeywork at some distance from his home.
He went to work at daybreak and did not
turn until evening; so that Spring could see
him but seldom. The bird was probably grow
ing sad, for day met Mark under the
staircase with the cage in his hand. 1 salutcd
Spring and congratulated my friend on having
so Joyous a companion who supplied to him the
place of a family and of society.
AT one time you might have saidso," replied
he ne: While worked at my needle day after
enjoyed sweeter music than the greatest prin-
ccs. But now all is changed! Since 1 have
been going out to work, 1 leave early and
when 1 see him. 1t is only on Sunday that we
can enjoy each others society. This cannot
continue, Monsieur. Spring is becoming sad
at being LETT so much alone and to tell the
truth, it is not the life for singing bird he
needs some one to listen to his songs aud to
respond to them; SO 1 have made great
resolution, free my bullfinchw
At these words his voice was husky with
emotion, and he left me abruptly.
Poor Father Mark, may God remember his
self-devotion! If it is true that a cup of cold
water 81 ven to the poor will be rewarded in
the kingdom of heaven, hope this sacrifice,
made even for the happiness of a bird, may be
remembered in favor of my good neighbor.
The CATHOLIC WORLD, For January.-The
New York Publication House.
We subjoin the contents of this excellent
Magazine: Calico Galilei Out of the Depths
have cried unto Thee, o Lord The General
Convention of the Protestant Episcopal Church;
Christmas: The Invasion; The Unity of Sci
entifc and Revealed Truth The Story of Mar
eel; Professionalism Failure; The Evening
Primrose Herimore-Brandon Letter Apos-