Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1874-04-23

Or, Two l.iailr Wooden kl,oc~-Thc Rel.
3iam prnsnnt Girl nnsi tho Great PARIS
inn Artist.
Condensed from Oui,la's Last Work.

SOu Afu1Sss
Condensed, from oui,,as Last Work.
Antoine Macs, 'an old man who got
his mengro living by tilling tho garden
plot about his hut and selling flowers
i'll tho city Squares" going into Brus-
sells tor his days trade, had seen gray
bundle floating among tho water lilies
i'll tho bit of water ncnr his hut, and
Ind hooked it out to land, and found I.
year-old child in it, left to drown, no
doubt, but saved by tho lilies, and
laughing glcefully Mt fate. Old Antoine
took it to his wife, and the wife, n child
less and aged soul, begged leave to
keep it, and the two poor, lonely simple
folks grew to care for the homeless,
motherless thing, and they and the
people about Ill callcd it Bebec-Only
Bebee. The old people had died, and
Bebee was left alone while she was still
child. She had still lived ON by her
self in the little hut they had loft her,
raised her flowers in tho garden, trudg-
ed into the city every morning to sell
tho fresh blossoms, led an innocent and
happy, though homely and toilsome
life, doing little acts of kindness to all
about her, and ''had grown up straight
and clean and fragrant and Joyous as
one of her own carnations" And so
she had come to her sixteenth birthday
with tho simplicity and innocence of
childhood still on her face and in her
heart. Going home on the evening
of her birthday from the stall in the city
where she had sat all day selling her
flowers, Partisan, artist Flamen by
name, leaning over the balcony sees
the little peasant go by below with
two white feet in two wooden shoes,
and face that had the pure and sim
pie radiance of flower" "There is
my Gretchen" he thought to himself,
and went down and followed her into
the cathedral. If he could get what
was in her face, he would get what
Shelter could not" When Bebce g
prayer of thanksgiving to the saints
for her birthday gift and her happy day
was over, and she had risen to 60, "a
mans voice not far off said, Have you q
rosebud left to sell me?' 1t was low and
sweet as became the 50 crament chapel
And there the artist, the great painter,
the man of the world spoke first to the
little peasant maiden of Brabant, and
made the first ripple on the hitherto
untroubled surface of her life. The
rosebuds are given him, because the
child will not take money in church,
and with all the artlessness of her un:
concious nature she tells the stranger
of herself and her home, as she walks
by his side along the street. The next
day, and often after, the artist comes tC
her stall, often buys her flowers, and
sometimes sits and paints near by
sometimes, at the close of day, walks
with her towards her home, and then
by and-by finds his way to her little
hut-garden and paints there, trying to
catch upon his canvas, for his great
picture Of Gretchen, the indefinable
light Of Bebee's face.
! And so the story goes on, love spring
ing up in the heart of Bebee for this
man, SO unlike any she had seen before
who seemed to her to belong to a new
world of which she had only dreamed
when she had stolen into the galleries
and gazed at the great pictures.
ITO Bebee he was sacred, unap
proachable, unquestionable; he was {
wonderful, perfect happiness, that hai
fallen into her life; he was a gift O
God, as the sun was" j" Meanwhile, h,
pondered various studies in various
stages of Gretchen, and made love Il
Bebee-made love by his eyes and
voice at least, not hurrying his pleasan
task but lowering about her softly, AM
mindful not to scare her, as the maj
will gently lower his hands over
poised butterfly that he seeks to kill
and which one single movement,
thought too quick, may scare away +
safety" And then when his sketche
are made and his playtime over le goe
back to Paris, and Bebee is left, lik
the Gretchen for whom she had bee
painted, to watch and wait with patien
and vain longing for the fulfillment q
his wretched, meaningless promise t
return before the winter, only, unlik
the Gretchen, she was left with n
sting of shame, and no sinful remen
brance to soil the purity Of her soul {
1 even of her thoughts; for "somethin
that was half weak, half noble move
4 him not to lead this child in her trui
t and ignorance into ways that when sh
l awakened from her trance would seel
to her shameful, and full of sorrow
. For he knew that Bebee was not 9
3 others are." "That he spared her {
Q he did was new virtue to himself, Il
4 which he hardly knew whether to fe
{ respect or ridicule, any way it was
8 virtue" $50 long as he did not sedut
l the body it seemed to him that
would never matter how much he Gle
p the soul, the little, honest, happ,
+ pure, frank soul, that amidst it's poverl
n and hardships was like a robins son
to the winters sum-" The long col,
: dreary winter that came and wen
: making and at night pored over Il
? books that were to make her "wist
:. and more fit for the lover for who
: she waited with such certain trust an
: hope-this is the most touching pa
: Of the story-this and the long journt
+ which she made on foot, when she ha
b seen in q newspaper thrown to her by
3 girl in town, that " the artist Flamel
Q whose Gretchen was the wonder of Il
= salon of the year, lay sick unto death
r his rooms in Paris" Twenty miles
day for seventeen days the brave lit
> creature kept on her way, growing wea
:, and weary and fainting in body b,
the steadfast, loving heart serene an
: happy in the thought of reaching hi
y and serving him in his need. When,
last, Paris is reached, with her last tv
, sous she buys two rosebuds to take
him !; and with hurried footsteps 81
,, seeks out the street and number of til
,, artists house; trembling with excit.
ment climbs the stairs of his apartment
gently pushes open the door, sayin
at is I, Bebee," and there, throug
the doorway in which she stands
catches a glimpse, not of her love-
; poor, sick and alone, and needing he,
but of Flamen, the central figure in
gay revel such as her pure mind ha
. never dreamed of. ''She stood an
saw-the rosebud in her hand. The
with great, piercing cry, she let tn
roses fall and turned and fed"
At the rivers brink she is caught an
held by the strong hand of her peasan
lover, who had come to Paris days be
fore in search of her, and that Mi ht h
takes her back to her home. Tn
hearts of the old peasant women, he
neighbors, who had before looked some
what askance at her, were touched wit
pity at the sight of the sadly-change
Bebee, whose eyes were fearless, an
; who never spoke q word or gave
. sign of recognition. "They undresse
, her and laid her down in her little bet
, and opened tho shutters to the radiane
of the sum- And Bebee clay still an
silent" and the women, all but Me,
Krebs, went away to their days worl
Towards sunset Bebee raised herse
and called aloud. They ran tn he