The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1871-06-10


with 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
probity, 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 disregarded. Others, whose
appearance was more agreeable, were
preferred to him, and in leaving to
/! him the humble employment by which
he lived his employers seemed to con-
fer favor, and to require his thanks.
| He lived in an old house in the fau-
| Dough, where some workmen lodged,
| as poor as he, but less abandoned.
Only one of his neighbors lived with
out family, in small garnet, into
which the wind and rain penetrated.
This was young girl, pale and 81
| lent; without beauty, and whose only
Recommendation was her resigned
misery.
| She was never known to address a
word to any woman; no song enlvened
her garnet. developed in gloomy
| despondency, as in sort of shroud,
she worked without ardor and without
recreation. Her languer touched Maui
rice He tried to speak to her. She
replied with gentleness, but briefly.
1t was plain that her silence and her
solitude were dearer to her than the
watchful friendliness of the little
hunchback. He saw this and became
dumb.
! But Toinett's needle scarcely support
| ed her Soon there was no work, and
she was idle. Maurice learned that
the young girl needed everything, and
| that the tradesmen refused to give her
credit. He went to them Immediate Y,
and agreed to pay them secretly for
whatever they gave to Toirette.
Things went on thus for several
months. The scarcity of work con-
tinued for the young seamstress, who
was now quite frightened at the debts
she had contracted with the tradesmen.
She tried to explain to them, and in
this explanation all was discovered.
Her first movement was to run to
| Uncle Maurice, and thank him on her
knees. Her habitual GOODNESS had
given place to an inexpressible tender
ness it seemed as though gratitude
had melted the ice of this chilled
heart
Delivered from the embarrassment
of the secret, the little hunchback
could give more efficacy to his kind
ness. Teinette became to him a sister
over whose wants he had the right to
watch. Since the death of his mother
this was the first time he had given
any one place in his life. The young
girl received his kindness with a re-
served sensibility. All Maurice's eff
forts were unavailing to d1ssipate hen
deep sadness She seemed touched by
his goodness and told him so, some
times, with effusion but here her
confidence ended Maurice could not
read this closed heart. In truth, he
tried but little, for the happiness of
having friend, he accepted Tolnette,
such as her long trials had made her;
he loved her thus, and wished for not
ing else than to retain her companion
| ship.
Insensibly this idea filled his soul
until it effaced all else. The young
girl was alone in the world like him
self habit had softened to her the ug-
illness of the little hunchback; she
seemed to regard him with compass
tomato affection. What more could he
| expect Until then the hope of accept
ing a companion had been repulsed by
Maurice as dream; but chance seem
ed to have made it reality. After
considerable hcoitati,n Lu- decided o.
| cIaaly To hnr {n acly hnr TO no hic 70
It was evening, the little hunchback
with much emotion, proceeded to the
garnet of the seamstress. When he
reached it, he seemed to hear strange
voice which pronounced the name OF
the young girl He opened the door
quickly, and perceived Tionette, who,
weeping, leaned upon the shoulder OF
a young man, wearing the costume OF
a sailor.
At the sight of my uncle she Olsen
gagged herself, and running to him
cried
''Ah come, come, it is he whom |
believed to be dead it is Julien, my
betrothed"
Maurice staggered back. OF all she
had said, he had comprehended but
one word
1t seemed to him that the earth gave
way, and that his heart was going to
break; but the same voice he had
heard at the death bed of his mother,
rang newly in his ear, and he straight
ened himself terminated. GOD remain
ed with him always.
He accompanied the newly married
couple on their wedding trip, when
they departed and after having wish
ed them all the JOY which he had been
refused to him, he returned, resigned
to the old house in the faubourg.
1t was here that he ended his life,
abandoned by then. but not, as he said,
by his Father III heaven Everywhere
he was sensible Of His presence. He
took the place of all that he had lost.
He died with smile on his face,
like an exile who has embarked for his
native land.
God, who had been his consolation
in Indulgence, in infirmity. in injustice
and in isolation, had made death g
happiness and benefaction to him.
GEORGE STINsoN d Cove take
pleasure IN giving prominence te