Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1872-07-11
MARGUERITE.

Whenever I think of Paris, my heart
yearns toward the old Latin Quarter,
which as everybody knows, is the rem.
devious of students, artists and Bohe.
mans of whatever degree and class.
In it spent three of the happiest,
most indepeI dent years of my lite.
There I had the coziest. sunniest rooms
in the world, away up in the third
story, where Victor brought me every
morning delicious bowl of hot coffee
from the Generic around the corner,
where my friends, the German students,
went tramping past my room at oil
hours Of the night, home from Mabille
or the Closerie de Lilas; where my
window looked across the street into
the work-room of flock of industrious.
tidy grisettes, who chatted and laughed
all day long as merrily as if their des-
tiny was not first the streets, and then
the common fosse-poor souls! There
1 got to see somewhat of the life of
this vast Paris, so brilliant, so fascina-
ting ON the surface-such o mass of
fostering horror at the bottom. And
there, too, I saw Marguerite.
She lived on the third floor, back
she and her old rheumatic mother and
from the ealliest red of dawn till the
night was far spent, the pretty, patient
little creature worked ut her trade OF
making artificial flowers. She was q
little thing, just rounding out of he1
teens-slight, fair as one of her own
lilies, curling dark hair cropped close
to her pretty head-it was no much
less trouble, so she said-and pair OF
the love]iest, most wonderful ewes that
ever q pure soul shone out of-pellu-
cid, blue and soft-ever smiling poor
child, her life was so hard. but full OF
that divine Tenderness which Raphael
paints in the eyes of his Madonnas.
I used to hear her blithe little voice
singing at her work. She had canary.
too, which sang louder than she, but
not half so sweetly, and a pot of mig
nonette, which she tended with touch
ing faithfulness. And these were her
pets--with her old mother, her only
friends. No l0ver-that prime neces
sity of the French girl-asy yet. fancy
the garcons of the neighbor,ng cafe,
or the rough German students. could
not have been much to her taste. And
so she was alone-a little, pure white
flower in the heart of the great city,
where wicketlness is 50 much easier
than virtue. When I first came to un.
derstand this, I said in my heart, God
help poor little Marguerite
had been her neighbor eix months,
when Que night heard low tapping
at my door, and ON opening it, found
this pretty little creature there. He1
violet eyes were strained with alarm,
and her cheeks paler than the lilies, as
she told me, bravely choking back her
sobs, that Victor had said that Mon
sieur was doctor, and her mother was
very ill-bien malade-wiping her eyes:
and would ], in my great goodness,
come and see herr
OF course would, and did. I found
the poor woman suffering severely, LEI
disease having attacked the heart, and
before it was effectually relieved, Mar.
guerlte and had become great friends
and allies.
The relief was only a reprieve at best,
Another attack was imminent. and il
was not probable she could survive it.
told Marguerite this one day, my own
heart aching as I saw her whitening
cheeks.
"And then, my poor child, what will
you do9 You will be all alone then. ;
ing also9"
"Ab, Marguerite! NY studies will
soon be ended, and there is dark-eved
maiden in my own land who is WAITING
for me-"
If had any fancy-but had not
that had touched Marguerite's inno
cent heart, it died there and then. He,
delicate cheeks flushed with tender
rose.
"Oh, monsieur! You never toli
that. All, ciel! But how beautiful
that is ~
Dear heart! She made me tell he
all about our wooing, and our hoped
for wedding and 1 believe the smaJ
cottage where We expected to set NJ
housekeeping was as visible to he
minds eye as to mine.
We got on famously after the confer
ence. The old mother got better as til,
warm spring came On, ana when hat
a slight illness, Marguerite was able K
come and sit in my room, with her rose'
and vlolets and daisies about her, ant
chat as she worked. We got it all ar
ranged that L was to send for her son,
day, if she should be left alone in til,
world-and she was to set up her flow
er-making in New York.
By and by the sweet days grew lon
ger and sweeter, and not only by Mar
guerite's pot of mignonette, but by
thousand signs in earth and sky, W,
knew that the gracious summer wa
about to visit the earth with blessings
I had made winter of it, workin.
Mt my professional studies, and I wa,
tired and worn. So, ns the summc
drew nigh, entered into an alliance
with big, blon'le-haircd Teuton, VIII,
lived on the next floor, for tho purpos
Of pedestrian tour through the Der
nese Oberland. was to be gone thre
mouths. Tears came to Marguerite
eyes when told her. Nevertheless
when, on the morning of our departure