The St. Cloud journal. [volume] (St. Cloud, Minn.) 1866-1876, 1872-01-11
CHOICE PERFUMERlEs ToILET ARTlcIEs &c, At the
emima; arc there any biscuits left in

Jemim,, arc there any biscuits left in
your bag ~ =. -
:" l investigate, and End half a, one.
and 9 great many dusty crumbs,
upon which my sister pounccs as a kit.
ten upon ball Of worsted. ! 3 !
= ~ could not, oonsciontiously, say
the chlldren's grace, .rhank God for
my good diuner,'' she says, shaking
her head. "Jemim., let IS 90 outs
ut is only eight o'clock, and the
pardon does not begin till nine"
1Never mind /; there is, at all events,
more to see 10 the town than there is
here, and I shall be moro likely to for
get that fifteen hours must clapse be-
tore I see food again"
So VIC 20 and pass through the
courtyard, and out into the cheerful,
warming streets. The pro>p,ot Of
having years sins wiped off seems
pleasant, for all faces look gay. The
town is througed with exquisitcly-
'tarchea, clean lace caps, sticking out
half mile behind their owners heads
-tbronged with broad felt hats, and
loose embroidered waistcoats, trimmed
with chains of silver buttons. They
are like peasants in a melodrama-
real bcnighted pcasants-who have not
yet begun to tell themselves that they
are quite as good as their betters, and
that there is no reason why they
should not wear hats and bonnets OF
exactly the same shape sad fabric.
But even here Innovation is laying her
ugly hand. Even Brittany is setting
forth on the road that leads to chin.
nsy.pots'hats and shooting coats ; even
here the ancient Breton costume, in
its purity, is tho exception; the old
world trunk.ho.e of yesterday Is ceding
to the new-world trousers of to-day.
We stroll slowly up through the
ehattering crowd, among long-haired,
lank men, and laughing, weather.beat-
euwomen. On most Breton faces is
written, "Life to US is arduous." No
one is drunk, and no one is swearing.
CHOW can they be happy, then ?"
would be the thought of an English
Nottingham i; but they are, or at
Toast, they look So
"The church IS already lit, though
It is yet day-I,ttlo points of yellow
light, Pickering feebly in the broad,
white light Of the summer evening.
We mount the steps-mount them
singerly, lest We should tread on the
outspread legs of tho crowded worship.
pers, crowded as swarmed bees, upon
tho steps, and in the porch, before an
image there. We enter the church
censers are swinging slowly; the fra
grant hush Of . holy gloom is spread
between the dim, high arches gloon
that the thousand little yellow lights
are fighting against. Grown men,
With swart heads bent, and dotted hats
in their rough hands; women; listle,
prin children in caps like their moth
ers, and petticoats down to their little
heels, all arc Frustrated before each
gaudy shrine, sending up their simple
souls in prayer to Gods great mother.
Not to her alone, however. As
-thickly as about the crowned and soep-
tered virgin the people press around
brass head, with glass window in its
chest, and its nose blackened by the
salutatlons Of many past years and gen.
erations. Standing a few PAGES of,
l AN watching tall youth who, with
long, thick hair hanging straight and
black about his harsh, melancholy face,
is stopping to kiss the uncouth, brazen
features, when an English voice sounds
low and laughing in my ear:
Fl: "Worse than the popc's toe, is not
is?" give al angry start. Devo-
ton is as catching as mumps. With
out any feeling Of tho ridiculous, l
could have f,lloyed the Breton boys
example, and kissed the blackeocd
nose. Paul Le Mesuricr is beside ms,
aod, beyond him, hecllcss Of the pray
ing Brctops, staring with all his blue
eyes at Lenore, stands fair, handsome
youth, leaning against pillar.
us it wicked TO Introduce people IN
church ?" asks Paul, soto voce. II
cannot hclr it ii it is: l have had no
peace slnc:. Scrope, let nc introduce
you to Mis-, Her.ick.
(To BE CoNrIxUED.)
LOOKING UP