The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1876-02-19

knitting in their industrious hands, and
where men and women both drank beer
and wine, and where smoke rolled up
from long, painted student pipes and
from quaint meerschaums. there we
heard more glorious music than have
heard in any of our opera houses.
In the afternoon the chubby German
women walked bonnetless along the
streets, to take coffee with each other,
and students, with flat caps upon their
heads, sauntered about with the inevita-
BILE pipe, and the youngest faces had
grea. seems across them. given in duels
which are so frequent, and which they
seem to delight in.
In Paul's studio were sketches of all
sorts. Groups that he had seen-stu-
dents quarreling, students at play. and
under the influence of wine. Grave old
men. and pretty, demure maidens with
braided hair. A picture of myself that
he painted then, l have yet. l will give
it to you, Rosine, one of these days,
when have gone to him.
/ lean from the window, and outside
stands the old woman that we met that
day at the church porch, telling our
fortunes. Not that she was fortune
teller, Rosine, but her witch like face
suggested the idea. and he made the
picture to suit his fancy.
Over us droop blossoming vine
branches. A rose stands in the window,
in painted china pot. Its buds are in
my hair. The blue ribbon fiutters. The
girl bushes. Yes, that was l as you
knew me, but idealized by the lover
who painted me. Poor old woman! She
never lost sight of me- She often came
to me in the same miserable garments,
and though she never asked charity, 1
always gave her great deal more then
if she had.
"You do not know how much You give
me, madam" she once said.
81 do not give you moro than you
need. | think" said l.
"Well. WE'LL" she muttered, "what
need to count the crumbs cast upon the
waters, they return all the same"
/ know the old woman's name now !:
she was called Madam Brun, and she
was French by birth. What her life
had been, l never knew. l never asked
and she never volunteered the informa-
ton. When you look at her picture,
you will not wonder that, though 7
offered her charity without being asked,
l never could intrude upon her conf
dence.
Rosine, we lived together three happy
years, my Paul and |. Never a word
that was not loving passed between us.
A baby reposed upon my breast-a boy,
with Paul's dusky eyes, with his sweet
dimpled chin, and high, white forehead.
My heart was satisfied, utterly satisfied.
And with this L had those other things
of less worth than love, that loving
hands bestow upon their treasure. Not
wish but was gratiiied.
Then, suddenly, Rosinc, as earth
quakes happen, as tornadoes come, the
storm of my life burst upon me. On the
floor of the quaint old studio Paul lay
dead, the pencil in his hand, the picture
on the easel, Just half done.
a moment before, he had laughed at
some jest of mine and | had looked
back at him, as | left the room, and
thought he never looked so handsome.
The heart that loved me so had ceased
to beat. l could not believe it for IL
long, long while. would not believe it.
| think [ was mad for a time. Can
You wonder? But that my baby, with
his fathers eyes, babe me live, / should
have killed myself / remember wax
ing one night, and saying to myself:
Zone of us is dead-which is it -
Paul, or II"
We had seemed one. Could one of us
live without the other? And for a
awhile, Rosine, there was just this one
thought, no other; then something of
which l had never dreampt before, be-
gan to dog me-poverty.
One day, Rosine. 1 understood that
/ had no money, and that without money
Summer friends depart. | shall never
forget the change in the face of the once
smiling landlord, the once soft and
courteous voice of the landlady.
Even my little maid puckered her
brow. and tossed her braided head. now
that the English lady was as poor as
herself And then. Rosine. as | sat
rocking my babe upon my knee one
morning, there came Il tap at my door,
and Madam Brun followed it.
She came forward and sat down be-
fore me, and, without Il word. drew a
paper from her pocket, and laid it on my
knee.
"What is it," l asked.
She spread it ont.
l shook my head.
81 do not understand
ooh, child, child.' said she. "Come,
then, | must tell you. 1t is now nearly
four years since You saw me sitting on
tlp stems of tba .h1rch wbara Won v.rn
married, and beings so happy, and seeing
me look SO poor and sad, gave me Law
ish gift.
''Since then, often and often, you
have remembered the poor old woman.
You have no idea how much you gave.
Well, it so happened that the old soul