Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1871-06-07
UNCLE MAURICE.
Translated From the French of souvestre, by Fan
ME s. Worden

To-day I remember uncle Maurice.
Every time | need to be assisted in
well-doing, / turn my thoughts toward
him; | see him with his sweet express
sion, half smiling, shalt tender; [ hear
his voice always even and caressing as
a breath of summer. His remembrance
guards my life and hghtens it. He
has been a saint and a martyr here be-
low. Others have shown the way to
heaven he has pointed out the paths
of earth
Save the angels, charged with keep
ing watch over unknown devotions and
hidden virtues, who remember uncle
Maurice, perhaps [ only have retain
ed his name, and yet L recollect his
history. Well I may write it, not for
others but for myself They say that
at the sight of Apollo the body straight
ems itself, and assumes a more dignifi-
ed attitude. At the remembrance of a
beautiful life, the soul should be ele-
waited and ennobled.
A ray of sunlight brightens the small
table at which I write The breeze
brings me the odor of mignonettee, and
the swallows fly back and forth, with
j W.
The story of my uncle Maurice will
have its place right here, among the
light and the perfumes.
1t is with destinies as with the day
dawns. Some radiating a thousand
lights; others are buried in sombre
clouds. That OF my uncle Maurice
was of the latter class. He came into
this world so puny, that it was believ-
ed he was condemned to die, but in
spite of these predictions, which could
almost be called hopes, he continued
to live, suffering and deformed.
Deprived of all grace, he was equally
deprived of all enjoyment. Oppressed
by the cause of his feebleness, rallied at
for his ugliness, the little hunchback
opened his arms to the world in vain
the world passed by pointing at him
the fingers of scorn.
However, his mother remained to
him, and it was to her that the
child confided the aspirations of re-
pulsed heart
Happy in this refuge, he attained
the age of manhood. His education
could have opened to him all occupa-
tIons he became a receiver of tolls at
one of the small toll gates which
guarded the entrance to his native city
Enclosed III this habitation of a few
feet, he had no other amusement be-
tween his writing and his calculations.
than reading, ard the visits of his
mother On beautiful summer days
she brought her work to the door of
his cabin, and sat there under the
shade of some wild vines which Maur-
ice had planted Although she was
silent, her presence was a pleasure to
the haunchback He heard the click
of her long knitting needles; he per-
celved the gentle and sad profile which
reminded him of so many trials cour-
ageously supported; he could from
time to time, rest caressing hand
upon the bent shoulders and exchange
a smile.
But this consolation was soon to be
taken from him. The old mother fell
i'll, and it was necessary, at the end of
some days, to renounce all hope
Maurice, distracted at the idea of
separation which would leave him
alone In the world, abandoned himself
to a sorrow without measure.
On his knees near the bed of the dy-
ing woman, he called her most tender
names, clasped her in his arms as
though he could hold the life In her.
His mother forced herself to return his
caresses; but her hands were cold,
her voice already departed. She could
only press her lips to her sons fore
head, sigh, and close her eyes for ever.
They wished to take Maurice away,
bnt he resisted, and leaning his head
4hn4 ~
"Dead, cried he, " Dead, you who
never left me, you the only one in the
world who loved mel Dead, you,
my mother What then remains to
me here below2
A faint voice replied" God"
Maurice rose terrified Was it the
last breath of his dead mother, or his
own conscience which had replied?
He did not try to know; but he com
pretended the response and accepted
it.
1t was then that l became acquainted
with him. [ went to see him frequent
ly at his little toll house He took
part in my childish sports; told me
his most beautiful stories; and per-
mitted ue to pick his flowers. Depriv-
ed of all graces which attract, he was
indulgent to those who came to
him. Without offering himself he
was always ready to welcome. Aband-
oned, disdained, he submitted to all
with a gentle patience and on the
cross of his life, where he was insulted
by his tormentors, he replied like
Christ, Father, forgive them, they
know not what they do"
No other workman showed so much
problty, zeal and intelligence but
those who would have valued his ser
vices were repulsed by his deformity.
Deprived OF protectors he saw all his
rights dlsregarded. Others. whose
appearance was more agreeable, were
preferred to him, and in leaving to