Los Angeles daily herald. [volume] (Los Angeles [Calif.]) 1873-1876, 1874-03-22
Toms FooIishness.

The little newcomer, who was man,
ed Marie, was the fifth daughter come
to veX the paternal committee of ways
and means. AS matrimony is the
chief end of q French girls existence,
it was no wonder that poor monsieur
received the congratulations of his
friends with his heart wrong side out.
But little Marie throve in spite of
the frowns, and at sixteen had devel-
oped into fine, handsome and brave
girl, so that her father was wont to
stroke her long brown hair, and say,
''True, you are a girl, Marie, but you
have all the qualities of man. That
| is great comfort s. Hlu t.ai I.aG
At this time Marie had two lovers
one old, rich, and whose suit her
| father favored; the other, young and
not rich, whom Marie loved, and mar
ried without the blessing of her father.
Her husband had just completed
| medical education. He was tall and
handsome, and his name Pierre Mar
| querat. A week after their marriage
Pierre found himself nearly penniless,
and the young husband and wife soon
after babe goodbye to France to seek
a home and fortune in America. They
landed in New York, beginning the
work of home-making with empty
hands, but strong hearts full of love.
Pierre gradually won place for him.
self and his profession, which, added
| to Marie's excellent management, fur
nished them with all the real COM
forts of home. But every year or two
brought baby, and there were seven,
all boys. "Ah if my father could
only see my seven boys, he would
adore me, and quite forgive me for be-
ing girl myself" Marie would proud
ly say.
When the youngest was three years
old almost the entire family was
stricken down with fever. From days
and nights of watching, Pierre, who
was less strong than Marie, became
prostrate-from fatigue, his physician
said; but he would be quite well after
q little rest In two hours he was
dead, and the eldest son lay dying.
From that day Marie was broken
hearted. She had loved her husba I'd
with the whole force and strength of
her intense nature. From the day she
married him until he lay dead at her
side no other man had seemed to her
so large-souled, SO noble-hearted, so
devoted and true. She did not weep
her grief was too deep for that. Her
heart, if she had one, was stone.
Nothing moved her. All sorrows fell
so far short of her own as to seem not
worthy the name of sorrow. She was
still so young, barely thirty-three, and
she already had drunk to the very
dregs the sweetest and saddest of life's
wine. For her woman's heart there
was nothing left. For her mothers
heart there were six boys and for her
brains and her hands the care and
support of them. She had her home,
but no income now. What could she
do? Teach French and take few
boarders. So a few weeks' time saw
the happy, bright-eyed, vivacious
Marie changed into pale, sad, black
robed woman, with her handsome
boys gathered about her like constel-
lation, and half dozen gentlemen to
sit at her table and learn French.
Most of them were professional men,
while one or two were her own cOun-
trymen. The first to come was Tom
Sigismond, partner in a downtown
tea house, and the pet OF bachelor
coterie, many of whom had been class
mates in college, and led the usual
life of well-to-do city fellows who
have no membranes" Some one
in the firm was wanted who under
stood French, and why not learn, it
| himself? A Franco-American friend
gave him Madame Marquerat's adj
dress. The artlessness of madame's
broken English, and the sweetness of
her broken-hearted face, made the
formal business matter a foregOne
conclusion. And SO it happened that
being the first by day on the carpet,
Tom was given the late Doctors place
at table, if che would be so good as to
carve.n Carving was as new and UNI
tried business as speaking French.
But he was q fellow to do anything
for q woman except marry her. He
would carve if he amputated his
hands in the operation. And then
| those six distracting boys, with their
interminable French chatter, with
their maman, maman, maman,"
kissing her, hugging her, rubbing
| their heads against her, overwhelm-
ing her with their devotion, and try
ing her patience to the utmost How
could he ever expect to learn all their
pretty French names, much less abide
in the midst of such a bedlam ?urv +
And so each and all of the gentlemen
thought, but had their wonderings an
swered by the nameless graces Of the
widowed madame. Day by day only
enhanced their admiration and aston
| ished them with her capabilities.
From morning until evening neither
her hands nor her feet seemed to find
rest. There were always the boys to
be sent to school, the market, her
French pulls, her household to super
intend; and yet she seemed always
courteous and ready to talk, but SO
very, very sad. pa s..'0 ~
One day Gustave, the third boy, was
brought in from the street with the
blood streaming from q wound in his
head. 1t had been nearly year since
Pierre had died, and until now Marie
had thought she had no heart. But
the sight of her bleeding child showed
her that she had, and she gave way to
a flood of tears. After that she was
quite like the impulsive, vivacious
and warm-hearted Marie of old. She
was a Frenchwoman in q thousand
ingenious ways-sO rich in tact, in eX-
pediency, in helpfulness; but had it
not been for all those boys, one might
never have known what a character
she had. One day it was teaching
Pierre never to lie; another, Louis the
beauty of usefulness; another, courte-
Gus manners to Colet, generosity to
Claude, or patience to Paul. Shewas
certainly the most wonderful mother
these men had ever seen; and neither
had they forgotten their own. The
sight of her and her boys day after day
developed their own fatherly instincts
and longings for home and fireside
and madame of their own. But