The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1872-04-21
JUVENILE COLUMN.
FATHER MARKS BULLFINcH.-A FRENCH
STORY.

| FATHER MARKS BULLFINCH.-A FRENCH
| STORY.
Some writer's like to undertake to writ,
the history of great nations or of celebra
ian dynasties, and relate what Cyrus
Alexander, or Cesar has done. being .
biographer Of moro modest pretepsions
have only to tell the story ofmy neighbor's
bulldnch mean Primrose, for this pretty
name was gwen him because his songe
flowers, and sunshine of spring.
Yesterday he was under my balcony.
hung up in poor tailor's window, for he
was Father Marks pride aud delight.
"Ihis is my child" said the old workman,
pointing to the bird with one of those
smiles which brings tears to our minds.
Mark had another child once, daughter,
now lying in the cemetery. 1 heard her
Coffin nailed down, I saw Father Mark fol-
lowing her to the grave in deep mourning.
and bareheaded. Aud after that saw him
take his old place upon his board at the
window, between two pots of withered
gill; flowers.
He was always the same, always hard at
work, and always courteous. If I met him
on the stairs, be would draw on one side:
hope you are quite we'll, sir Pray take
care of the stairs; they have just been
waxed." Or, I" You had better take your
umbrella, sir, it is going to be wet"
and peals of merry laughter in that desc
late room. One morning was at my win
dow looking down into the court, when I
saw Father Mark going downstairs with
his dry loaf under his arm. He was on his
way to the greengrocers to buy his usual
twopenny- worth Of cheese for breakfast.
A poor little boy was standing under the
archway holding tattered nest in his
hand. He had sold the three best young
birds, and only one nursing remained. so
featherless and sickly that every one who
had looked at it said cit is going to die. /"
Father Mark looked at it among the rest,
and whatever the ragged nest and feather.
saw the price Of his breakfast slip into the |
boys hand, and the poor old man disap-
peared with his prize. Some days vent
by; and I thought no more of the bird, |
when one morning, as was leaning on the |
heard faint chirping, but so
There was Father Mark at his window,
making a birds-nest with one hand, and
feeding the bird with the other. At sight
Of me, he apologised for not taking his cap
off.
"But is that the same bird I saw the
other day Z" l asked, in astonishment.
"It is indeed God bless itw replied
the tailor. "I do hope now that he will
i've"
And live he did, growing every day more
md more lively, 50 that by degrees his
songs seemed to cheer up the whole house.
Father Mark became both friend and sing
ng master to Primrose, who tapped his
wings as soon as he heard his voice, and
hen flew to tue bars and put his head
trough them.
In fact, the bultinch had become the lion
# the neighborhood, and every day lockers
N succeeded one another beside hia cage,
ust as formerly visitors used to crowd to
zee the king at dinner. First it would be
he schoolboys, who told one another all
lind of tales Of his exploits; then would
ome little girls, bringing him some dainty
lit, and speaking to him in their centlest
onesj at last the old hermit on the third
oor, who never failed to stop to tell the
ale of his dead canary bird. The good {
Id man exulted in Primrose, and we'll he
hight, for each day as it passed some fresh
rogress was made. Everything he wished ;
he bird to learn he learned and remember
d. He forgot his own woodland song to
thistle the airs his master whistled, and he
nally became so great q parsonage that
ather Mark thought he ought to get him
such distinguished visitors. The tailor
len began to rummage all his drawers and
,llect all his stray money, even to the v
ery last cent. Soon afterwards Father
ark came home with the most magnificent
lge ever saw. Its wires were so fine, it t.
as 81 tIiCheO WILL grass UcauS, ana silver
agree, 30 furnished with china seed boxes
i'd crystal fountains, that the Emperor of
hina himself could wish for nothing bet \
r. !
The great gates of the palace were open
and the bird was introduced to his new
Yelling. But what a disappointment! In
cad of showing any delight at his new
srters, Primrose fitted here and there
til fright, knocked himself against the
re-, and tried all he could to get out
ain.
1T is only the first change" said Father
ark "to-morrow he will be singing for =
y" r
But not so. Neither on the morrow. nor l.
days afterwards came any rejoicing 81
1nds. The exile sat upon his perch sor-
xful and dumb, and his master piled him
tn cake and millet seed in vain. Prim-
10 looked at the dainties with half-shut
IS. Several days had passed in this way,
4 the bullfnch sat with his feathers puff
out and his eyelids half closed, as If he
re going to die. Father Mark could not
nd it any longer; he opened the doors
the Louvre, and brought it close to the =
bby old cage with its yellow pinnacles. III
1