The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1868-04-19
NUMBER II.


in a village presbytery, and ior what ito
paint an taltar-pieee for what was after all, TIE
village church, where Poupilliers parents were
He might be Indifferent to the rites of tn.
church. and entertain little IN, respect for it's
venerable pastor; but would he, the only rich
man of the place, stand by and see what might
| justly be termed his ancestral fame cruuble to
ruin, the steeple tOppling over, and the Gene
terry Palings waste away, for want of q few
| bricks aud little mortar, or u few boards
nailed together! by dint of such arguments
strollipgat times into POupillier's own house and
Workshop, and latterly over u glass of fragrant
that he at length grumbled out compliance
tapAtl having once humbled himself to SO Unusual
an extent, he set to work with a WILL became
| interested in his task, more satisfied with him
SELF and as "a sequence, with those around him,
| and at length came to feel that it was more
comforting to be ON good terms with the
Church, the cure, the world, and himself. than
live in sullen and morose hostility with all and
everything.
If anybody more ;lstOnislletl at the
changes that were taking place in his little
ministry, it was the wOi thy cure himself. He
had heard one day Il sob in his church he had
| sought ous the afflicted; it was the hetrothed
OF IiSnon !; he led her 10 the confessional. and,
relieving her to the best of his ability OF the
burdens on her conscience, won back IL lost
shcep to the fold. But al his heart was glad
dened by such Il change, what was his surprise
when, one fine d.iv, OH Marguerite announced
that Maitre Pon?:llier wished 10 speak to him,
and after some ~cO:lversiIiO of u most unusu-
ally sympathetic character, declared that he
was about to repair the church, and build q
wall around his cemetery at his own expense.
1t must be admitted that the simple and single
hearted old man was SO astOunded that he be-
leVed in q miraculous interpretation of the
Virgin-if not of Providence itself. whole
legion Of angels must, in his estimation have
fallen down upon the house of the mason, to
convert SO Obdurate q parsonage.
A month had elapsed since Horace had been
settled at Fleury-wOrking~ assidiuously in his
rustic garret--when pest-chase arrived ono
4hSA mn k:.,k
brea kfast. servant in livery stepped out
with an object of considerable dimensions, care
FULLY wrapped up in paper.
"For Monsieur Horace, madame" said the
servant to the cures ancient domestic who
had fastened to the window, at the unaccus-
toned sound of wheels.
All! know what it is" said Horace tn his
host; "it is my frame that they are bringine.D
"What, in post-chaise Z" exclaimed the cure
Horace contented himself with smiling. Mar
guerite had, in the mean time, fastened upon
the man servant.
He would take a little refreshmentw
Flo, thank your
. "Only glass of cider 7"
"No, thank you "
Who is your master 7"
"MOnsieur Horace"
" And how long have you been with hint"
lnterpolated the cure, who had Just come up,
whilst Horace carried the frame up stairs
q. "Three years"
The cure and his old servant looked at one
another and shutldered. There was some un-
mystery in all this What it Mon
sieur Horace was not, after all, the poor water
lmbibing artist that he had represented him
self to be! The thought WAS overwhelming.
The painful perplexity was, however, quickly :
relieved by the well-known voice OF Horace
himself, shouting from the top of he stairs:
FEATHER! good Marguerite! you can come
and see the picture now; it is finished, and it
is framed.o
The old man and his ancient servant got up
the staircase as they best could, and there in
reality was the picture awaiting their inspec-
tion, turned to the light in it's splendid frame
IF gold. They looked, and beth uttered an
of joy, surprise, admiration, and
gratitude, at the same moment. There was
The most ravishng portrait of Mary that can
be imagined, holding her divine child in her
iTms and kneeing her feet were two saints,
)ne OF whom was the living picture of the old
cure of Fleury. Marguerite invOluntarily went
On her knees and began to pray; as to the old
sure, tears of joy rolled down his cheeks.
" Ah.' he said, when he had sufficiently re-
covered his composure to be able to speak. 81
understand now the miraculous convcrs i OF
VignOn, the repentance of his betr, g.let.. the
of Monsieur Poupillicr. AID tAu re-
pairs of the church. see it all; under God. tits
he work of the same glorious hand that painted
his adorable Virgin and that portrait OF the
'oor old cure, placed there i'll paradise before
lis timer
There were high rejoicings in Fleury sur
,Andelle following dar.-FI4e church lf.tt
,een restored, the picture was to be inaugu-
ated on the altar, n marriage ceremony was
% be performed, the holy sacrament given to
he f;lithful-nOr, to the infinite delight of the
worthy cure, was there one that suspicious
lay who showed himself unworthy of its recep-
ion. That altar, simple IN il was. was after
Ill, a loftier structure than the humble table
lot higher than II stool-at which our saviour
md his disciples most probably partooK OF
heir last supper on the slopes of Olivet; and
was decorated by noble work of art, painted
especially for its exaltation. And if ever,
rea'ler, you feel curious to zee that picture and
% know the name of the young artist who i'm
nured himself for a month in that rural village
n order to paint it, you can go to Fleury sur
'Andelle. The picture is still there, although
5he worthy pastor has long ago gone with his
faithful attendant to his long home. Its fame
las attracted many visitors, and the church is
~ longer in n dilapidated condition it has
indeed, reason to bless the memory of "A name
,eebi ated FROM father to Son for now nigh two