The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1870-06-25
Selected story.
The Little Wooden Shoe.



Jacques was fisherman-a lucky one, too. |
He had a little house, all his own, and Jeanne, |
who had been for seven years his wife, and |
Ange, the jOlleSt little scamp that ever lOmp- |
ed a iisherman's cottage. But these are uot |
all his treasures. He has besides, store of
nets and boat called the Fine-Aneuille. The |
sea was never yet too rough for either. For
it never stormed until the Fine-Anguille had
come with her crew, snug and dry to her moor
ing. The captain Of this frigate was Jacques;
the mate-and what a mate he was WAS Fa-
nor, a Newfoundland, peer and prince of dogs
Everybody knew the Fine Anguille. Every
body knew Fanor. And well was it for many
OF them that they did. They had made his
acquaintance under memorable circumstan-
ces. For, when Fanor looked from his kennel
at night along the dark coast, he coulu see the
glow of manya firesi1e which would long
have been dark and cherries il he had not
rescued from the waves the strong arms that
earned its fuel. Many mother felt something
queer in her throat and in the corners of her
ewes when she saw the great shaggy brute, and
thouoht of a certain little head that might
long ago have been pillowed in the sea-weeds.
But when the feast of our Lady of Larmor
came ali! then Fanor was in his glory. Did
he walk in the procession? OF course he did
Did he know what was the proper thing for
respectable dog to do and where his right place
was, after the banners? "Ahw said JACQUES.
"He's Christian. He's no dog; he is almost
man."
After Jacques, and -Anguile, and the
sea, Ange was the dearest friend of this dog.
Fanor paid the most delicate attentions to this
little fellow. He kept back his strength and
refrained from those bosterous leaps; he gave
Ange thousand tender caresses with his
great cold nose and with his paw; and, when
he licked his hands, he scarcely moistened
them. 1t was plain that he was in love with
this baby. AS for Jeanne, she loved nothing
in the world besides Jacques and Anoe and
The dog.
For you and me, and the thoughtless or
busy world, what grand sight to watch the
sea in September! so deep, SO dark, it falls and
rises with ever-increasing majesty. There is
menace in its ceaseless roll, its beauty is ter
rbly grand, and from the shore we admire its
strength and its immensely. But how differ
emily it appears to the poor fishers wife! For
her there is nothing to admire in the ocean.
For her it is only source OF anxiety and
dread. How gloomy to her is the evening as
1t settles over this ever tossing plain; how her
heart starts at the vague threats of the wind
This blue and white-crested mass is perhaps
shroud. Is there no moaning save that which
the lstless water makes? And, when the ho-
rizon lowers, is the wild call of the sea- bird
the only strange cry that can be heard? And,
as the wind sweeps from the stormy Offing, we
perhaps think it beautiful. But to the fishers
wife it is dreadful. She fears for him who tolls
in the abyss. What can a little shell like Fine
Anguie and man and dog do against the
ocean?
We may say, Chow beautiful But she
cries, "Holy Virgin! the sea is too high
Sweet Jesus! ii blows too, too hard'
One day Jeanne was with Ange on the
beach and Jacques was preparing Fine-An-
guile for fishing. Jeanne sat, knitting, by the
waters side. Ange had kicked off one of his
little wooden shoes, and with his ROSY little
foot was playing in the water. He laughed.
he shouted, he splashed the little waves that
ran softly upon the sand All, what fine fun
he was having.
1t was evening. The setting sun bathed the
entire coast in purple, and the water, still and
peaceful, reflected this scene of spIendor
Anse had tied string to his little shoe and
had thrown it out upon the water.
Mamma" said he "look! see my Fine
Anguille In minute l am going to make a
storm"
Aud he splashed away with his bare foot
The little shoe tossed from one side to an
other; finally it filed with water. Jeanne
looked up and said, Naughty boy! Put on
your shoe. Quick"
just then somebody touched her shoulder
1t was stranger from Paris, perhaps. This
seemed probable from the naughty air which
people from the city always have, and also
from his cold, harsh look and his pale counte-
nance.
81 want boat" said the strange nerson
to go out into the offing" Jacques approach
ed. !" If you like, sir, l am ready. Here, Fa-
norw
"What! take that brute along with us {?
Horrid cur! He is filthy and smells of old
fish. can't bear him for companion"
81 will not go without my dog" said JAG
ques.
Gomez said the stranger. . this beast is
OF no Use. will give you louis to leave the
dog" Jacques looked at his wife hesitatingly
Jeanne was pale. The stranger tossed the
louis in his hand.
Just then Angie cried, My shoe has gone to
the bottomW And Jeanne said, "Don't 90
without the dog"
Soon the Fine-Anguille left the shore, and,
breaking through the rosy water, disappeared
in the distance, like a faint cloud.
Jeanne turned again towards the house, car
rying her child, whose little foot hung bare
over her dress.
When she reached the heights, she turned to
scan the horizon. She saw thick gray band
stretched along it. Seized with anxious fore
bodings, she paused.
"Will it be fair?" she asked of Father Lu-
cas-, the cow-herd. "What sort of a NIGHT will
they have over by the Thunder Rocks and The
White Maze, and in the offing?"
Father Lucas, in turn. scanned the horizon
Fine AnSuie is good sea- boatr' sad he.
and passed on with his cows.
1T is the wind" thought Jeanne. as Ance
by an unconscious movement covered his foot
with her apron. at is the wind! God be
meiciful to us!' Then she entered the house.
1T len oc:ock gusts began to blow. The
waves moaned piteously. JEANNE could not
sleep. But neither the moaning of wind nor
wave could disturb Ange as he lay wrapped
snugly in his cradle. His mother struck
light. One is not so much frightened when
one can see clearly. Then it seems as if one
could do anything; but what can one do
against the wind?
1.-THE wind! my God the wind" cried
Jeanne. But at any rate Fanor is with
himp
Then, as everything creaked and moaned
around her, she fell into a slight slumber,
She saw The great sea with its frightfll CULTS,
its white yawning mouth and threatening
rocks, and its deceitful shoals. She saw her
child on the beach splashing the water with
bis naked foot She saw the little wooden
shoe which had been shipwrecked Then she
heard the voice of Ange murmuring, 'rIl
make stOrmw
Jeanne trembled.
Then, as the roof of the cottage moved
and creaked, she remembered how the waves
had entered the little SHOE
All at once she rose up and took Ange fast
asleep, in her arms. 1t was raining hard and
the wind blue strongly. She lit lantern;
sudden gust put it out and she was left in the
darkness. But the surf made so much roise
that it served as guide. She reached the
beach in safety.
."Ange! o Ange! if Fine Auguille has per-
ished!'
The bellrey Of Lamor stood black in the
somore night, and the sea dashed its white
loan at the very steps of the chulch
Jeanne seated a.,
wrapping Anse in her cloak, waited with
longing eyes, counting every wave.
Slowly the day broke, and the storm abated
as the sun lose 1t sbone first on the fortress
of Port Louis, then along The rest of the
coast; and Jeanne saw the little wooden shoe
broken among the pebbles Broken! and
yet so light! 1t ought to have hoatedn
Then Jeanne saw the Fine Anguille. Her
sail was rent and tattered. Her broken mast
hung hall in the water. An that could be
hoped was that she might come in with the
tlde, ana mat jacques would be abe TO avoid
Jne rocks. PERKINS, thny etilI rrceo,,al ii.