Litchfield enquirer., 1877-11-22

Swift, apparently giving little credence to
 them, wrote, "'Tis the ramblinges lying rogue
 on earth" But the Dean highly valued the
 letters of his friend, and had great regard; I egea affection, for him, which heFather oddly expressed by, II do dearly love the hang dog.
 There was, indeed something sympathetic in
 their eccentric natures, even to a touch of un-
 soundness of mind, with which Peterborough
 has been credited; and in their treatment, re- l spectively, of those two devoted women, Stella l and Anastasia there were many points of re- semblahee.- .- Temple Bor. fia@ - ssss-s ! s------------ - - 2 sssz s From the 0ongsegationaast.l sa N Lost and Found. s't7 s' BY MRS. Ms. HoLLIsTRR. . .. al Mir and Mrs Arneau were emierants from France, who came to this country some years ago, and settled on the Susquehanna. They
 were quite well of, and their farm and pretty
 cottage soon showed the thrift and good taste for which the French people are noted. Bright CTS biOoTmed wherever there was room for them.
 Provence and Dion roses and immortelles helped to beautify the kale and garlic. Even 1 the unsightly barn yard fence was covered with vines and scarletrunners. Madame Arneau
 used to say, when her neighbors laughed at her for decorating her coward: "De good God
 makes His world beautiful; His leetle birds
 drap de seed on bare and ugly places. Let me
 be one leetle bit like Him, and have some blos- | SomS too"
 Soon blossom of a higher species came to gladden. the hearts of MT. and Mrs. Arneau Pierre was just beginning to talk the queerest tumble 0 French and English, and trying to | sing with his mother some of her pretty Nor | man songs, when she was summon to New Or l leans to attend upon her dying mother, who
 had lately come there from France. Mir. Ar
 neau was to stay at home, and with their good ! nurse.Rosa, take care of Pierre until she re- l turned. The parting was a sorrowful one, though they little knew what trials were be- fore them. Even Pierre's poor little heart seem- ed full of forebodings as he repeatedly called | his mother back, saying the sweetest of all | parting words-''adieu." :: :Adieu" came faint 1 ly from Mrs. Arneau's faltering lips and to Gods care the lonely child was indeed com mitted.
 MT. Arneau for time appeared to be recon ciled to his wife's absence, as his son and Rosa got on so well together. Then he became sick ! and depressed. When the War of the Rebel l lion broke out, and he received no letters from Mrs. Arneau, and felt that he could not go to
 her or she come to him, he grew more and
 more nervous, and told Rosa that he must re-
 
 house, and establishing Pierre and Rosa in her
 mothers little cottage near by with money
 enough to support his son for a year, he left
 them. Rosa .tenderly cared for the child, but
 as the months sped by and she heard nothing
 from either of his parents, she began to be
 sorely troubled. When the money was all spent, she bravely set about earning more, but
 it was slow, hard work and when her mother
 was laid up with fever, and the poor girl could
 not go out sewing, they all suffered. What to
 do with Pierre she did not know. Starvation stared them in the face, and Rosa, after many scruples, put the boy into an orphan asylum. At first she went to see him quite often; but
 after her mother died, she married and went to
 live at the West. When Rosa placed Pierre
 in the orphan house, she told the matron that
 the child's name was Peter Conrade She
 thought, unhappily, that when his parents re-
 turned, their pride would be sorely hurt at
 finding their darling the object of a public charity. She supposed, too, that she should
 be close by to tell them the story. During the
 second year of the War, Mrs. Arneau came
 back to her Susquehanna home, and found a stranger there, who told her that Mr. Arneau had been sick, had placed Pierre under Rosa's charge, and had gone to France nearly two years before; directing him to forward his rent to banker in Paris He further said that
 Rosa had married and left that part of the country, and he thought the boy must have been sent to his father in Europe. Mrs. Ar neau, heart-sick and anxious, sought for traces of Rosa, and finally found woman who told her that Pi9rre had been put into some orphan house, but which one she did not know Then the half distracted mother began her dreary work of searching through our great city asy- lums for her lost darling
 Day and night she walked the wards, listen- ing to the recitations of the children, watching them at their meals, softly treading the long aisles and bending over hundreds of little white cots; scanning with strained eyes the upturned sleeping faces. Then she read the death roll No Pierre Arneau had been buried from any one of these houses, and though she could not find his name amoung the living, she felt that he was alive, and never relaxed her efforts She called him by the old endearing names, in French and English and, with white cheeks and quivering tones, sung the merry airs of Normandy, watching for glistening eye or responsive smile but all in vain. Finally she gave up the search, and after repeated letters to her husband, sailed for France.
 When she arrived there, MT. Arneau's rela- tives had neither seen nor heard from him for two years She drew from his banker the rent for their cottage, and advertised for intelligence of her husband and child. After time even the persevering French detectives gave up, and advised her to return to America and seek her lost ones there. So the wretched woman came back, and at the New York Morgue learned that Mir. Arneau had committed suicide just after he bade his son goodbye. Utterly crush ed by the news, she had no heart left to look for Pierre After while she took up the quest again more ardently than ever, but to no pur- pose. She then accepted situation as travel ing companion and teacher to a wealthy lady and her son, and once more sailed for Europe Faithfully she performed her duties to the rich woman's child, while her heart ached for her own:
 Years passed, and cheerfulness at last came to the sorrowing mother and widow. While her employer and she were living in Berlin, a Prussian nobleman who knew Mrs Arneau's story, became attached to her, and begged her | to marry him, assuring her that he would aid | her in every way to find her boy, if she still | labored under the delusion that he was alive. l She consented, and after a few yea1s, little l ones frightened her stately Prlssian nursery; l but often, while she was betting them, another l little figure, more simply dressed, seemed to i steal to her side, dimpled arms pressed her | neck, and a voice said: ''Chante une songmore l for petit Pierre" and uneonsciously the old l Norman baby y-song burst from her lips, ending | in adieu Oh! such a long adieu as it had l been. She must see and hear the Susquehan- | na once more. The purple and fine linen op- | pressed her. Perhaps her first-born was in l rags and starving. He must be great. boy now, but where?
 Her husband had employed the best detec- 1 tives in Paris to communicate with those of | the United States. He wrote to the Consul | General and to the. minister at Washington l After long waiting, clue was discovered l News came that the lost boy was found, and was working on farm in Illinois His old | nurse Rosa, had heard from detective the l whole story of her former employers. She told the officer where she had put Pierre, and | gave his fictitious name, and there they found it recorded, with the address of the person who had taken the boy to his farm. When they | found Pierre, he was hoeing corn, quite uncon- I scious of what was in store for him. He had been kindly treated and at first he was reluc- which ha had ardnntlv IonOod for finally ind,e