The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1877-09-06
VOL. X--NO. Al

meau-InaG is, PROMISED Ine uItIe one
a ride"
"And ?" said Madame, sternly.
"And," answered the youth, gather
ing up courage, his honest, kindly eye
looking straight into hers, I" she needs a
little change; ride would not harm
her, madam"
at is a liberty objectionable. In my
country it is not known that vendor
street vendor-will intride himself on
lady's apartment. People know their
place, and"
az beg your pardon, madam. You are
right" interrupted the stranger, his
cheek flushed hotiy. "But this is
America, not Paris. Good-day."
He was gone. The place was blank
and desolate. The apples lay ON the floor.
The sunlight had faded from the window.
Fifine set up frightful cry of disap-
pointment. All! no ride, no pleasure,
no delights in prospect now.
She did not go dancing off to school
next day, singing as she went. She
came back with a headache, carrying it
gloomily up to the top floor and the
waiting mother.
Two days, three, passed. Fifine was
really ill. She chartered necessarily of
the ride and the beautiful country. She
cried to see Monsieur Jack, as she had
named her friend.
One day Madame slipped down stairs
to buy some apples. 1t was the day for
Monsieur Jacks appearance. The young
man bowed when he caught sight of this
princess from the top floor. Should he
carry the apples up stairs for her?
Little Fifne, sitting flushed and fe-
verish among heap of pillows, Lit up
radiantly at sight of the sunburnt face
and that great straw hat.
"Ahi maman," she cried, clapping
her hands, "now we shall 60 to the
countryp
But Fifne was ill. Not for day nor
a week, but for long, weary month the
little creature pined and sickened in the
upper story of the tenement-house. And
it fell out that nearly every day the
young mans steps sounded on the stair,
and Monsieur Jacks face became famil-
lar to all the neighbors as he made his
way to the topmost floor.
He petted Fifne, he chatted to her,
and charmed Madame by stepping softly
in spite of his big boots. Fifne watched
hungrily for his coming, and thus it was,
doubtless, that Madame also found her
self sometimes listening for his footstep
on the stair.
One sunny afternoon she stood smooth
ing her glossy hair in the cracked look
ing-glass. The day was hopeful one.
The air was clear, the sun shone, Fifine
was better. Madame's eyes frightened
as she stood at the glass. She adjusted
her knot of ribbon, she touched up the
white ruffle about her shapely throat.
Without, there was creaking of the
rickety stair The eyes shone brighter
in the dim little mirror. Madame stop
ped in her toilet suddenly, seeing their
expectant glitter.
"Can it be possible" ?" she said to her
self. "Have / come to this-to sewing
in a garret, to starving, to begging al
most, for Fifne, and to looking forward
every day to the visit of young man
who is an apple vendor? Is it that l
must at heart belong to the ednailLe
Paul-Professor Paul, was ever worthy
of thee?"
But when she opened the door, and
Monsieur Jack stood modestly on the
threshold, Madame's eyes did not lose
their sparkle. He brought bunch of
pinks for Fifine.
"Ahp cried Fifne, clapping her
hands, I" they came from the country,
ma chere maman! When shall ace go = oh,
,chen shall we go, mamanW
The mother looked at her tenderly,
pitifully. The child had grown so thin
with long illness.
"My little one," she said, al wish l
was back with thee in my beautiful
Paris, where we should have music and
flowers and parks, and"
You can have them all here" inter
rupted Monsieur Jack, quietly.
There were tears in Madame's eyes,
but she turned upon him hotly.
"What will you?" she said. "Shall l
take shame to myself that l was poor? !
was poor in Paris, but l named it not SO.
In my own country / have pleasant, gen.
tie life. Ny Paul is very wise, very
quiet. He will not have touch himself
with what is rude and rough. The
neighbors say he will never be rich. Il
ma pas inuente la poudre, they say, and
laugh-'he was not the inventor of gun
POWDER But we also laugh and are
happy. have my pot of flowers; have
my fete days. 1t costs but few sous to
be happy. Ahl why did we ever come
away, my petite, to be reminded that we
are beggars"
Madame caught up her white handker,
chief and wiped her eyes. There was an
awkward pause. Monsieur Jack played
with Fifne's long locks, looking down 81.
lent and reproved.
Fifne, not knowing what was the mat
ter, began to cry.
"Ah, yes," said Madame, excitedly
seeing the child's tears. "We can have
all things here, my Fifine, yet thou hast
nothing. In Paris we need not be told
that we are poor. If we know that the
last sou is being spent, we will buy some
charcoal, we will shut ourselves in the
pleasant little room with the flowers and
| the sunlight, and die decently, making
no trouble; but in America it is not so
Here it is rude and outre. People will
meddle. You can not manage youl
small scrapling of life for yourself. You
must starve and beg-and steal, if need
be, but you must live. 1t is, therefore
no fault of mine, monsieur, that my
little Fifne is i'll and pining. l can moi
advertise that I must have her helped
and / am poor! l am poor! l an
poorW
1t seemed to be relief to Madame.
mind that this well-kept secret was out
at last.
Madam" said the visitor, rising, "a
also am poor"
Excuse me, l pray you," sale
Madame, her face paling suddenly; "1
have talked much-it is weak. l asl
your pardon
"When shall we go-when shall W,
go in the country?" asked Fiine, seein,
a pause. ..
"Thou canst not go alone, little one,
said the mother, and rallying he
spirits.
"She need not go alone, madam" sug
gested Monsieur Jack, patting the chill
on the head" not if you will go witt
her."
All! what can poor people do? Wa
not Madame the wife of a professor
| opd uos NOT bar pr;Ja ,,or,, o,roof Iboro