The Cheyenne daily leader. [volume] (Cheyenne, Wyo.) 1870-1884, 1878-04-09
thy. singing as she went. She came back
with n headache, carrying it gloomily uT
10 TIA Tar, q aor and Aho Mating mother

Monsieur Jack, as she had named mel
friend.
One day Madam slipped down stairs t.
buy some apples. 1t was the day Tor Mon
sienr Lacks appearance. The young man
Lowed when he caught sight Of this prin
sess from the top floor. Should he carr,
the apples up stairs for herr -.
Little Fifne, sitting flushed and feyerisl
among a heap Of pillows, lit up radiantly At
sight of the sunburned face and the great
traw hat.
"Ahl maman," she cried, clapping heI
hands, "now we shall go in the country"
But Fifne was i'll. Not for ID day nor 4
week, but for n long, weary month, the lit
tie creature pinned and sickened in the up.
per story of the tenement house. And it
tell out that nearly every day the young
mans step sounded on the stair. and Mon
sieur Jack face became familiar to all the
neighbors as he made his way to the top.
most floor.
He petted Fifne, he chatted to her. and
charmed Madam by stepping softly in spite
of his big boots. Fifine watched hungriiy
for his coming, aud thus it was, doubtless,
shat Madam also found herself sometimes
listening for his footstep on the stair
One sunny afternoon she stood smoothing
her glossy hair in the cracked looking glass.
The day was n hopeful one. The air was
clear, the sun shone. Flint was better.
Madam's eyes frightened Us she stood at
the glass. She adjusted her knot of ribbon,
she touched up the white rufiie about her
zhapely throat. Without there was n crenk-
ing Of the rickety stair. The eyes shone
brighter in the dim little mirror. Madam
stopped in her toilet suddenly. seeing their
cNpectant glitter.
Can it be possible " she said to her.
self. "Have | come to this-to sewing in
n garret, to starving, to begging almost, for
Fifine. and to looking forward every day
to the visit Of n young man who is an apple
yender2 Ii it that I must belong to the
u~anaille Paul-Professor Paul, was ever
worthy Of thee ?"
But when she opened the door. and Mon
sieur Jack stood modestly on the threshold,
Madam's eyes did not lose their sparkle. He
brought a bunch of pinks for Fifne.
"Ahi" cried Fifine, clnpping her handA,
they came from the country, mn chere
maman When shall we go-oh, when
shall we 60, maman ?"
The mother looked at her tenderly, pitt.
fully. The child had grown 20 thin with
long illness.
my little one" she said, al wish / was
back with thee in my beautiful Paris, where
we should have music and flowers and parks,
and"
"You can have them all here, " interrupt
ed Monsieur Jnck, quietly.
There were tenrs in Madam's eyes, but
she turned upon him hotly
"What will you " she said. "Shall !
take shame to myself that 1 am poor2 j
was poor in Paris, but l named 1t not 30.
In my own country ! have pleasant, gentle
life. My Paul was 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 invento 10
poudre' she was not the inventor Of gun
powder J, they say, and laugh. But we also
laugh and are happy. l have my pot Of
flowers I have my fete days. 1t costs bat
n few sous to be happy: All why did we
ever come away, ma petite, to be reminded
that we are beggars :"
Madam caught up her white handkerchief
nd wiped her eyes. There was IN awk.
gard pause. Monsieur Jack played with
rhne's long locks. looking down, silent and
teproved.
FiRne, not knowing what was the matter,
began to cry.
"Ah, yes" said Madam, excitedly, sec.
ing the child's tears. 1--WE can lave all
things here, my Fiine, yet thou hast moth
ing. In Paris WI need not be told that we
are poor If we know that the last sou is
being spent, we will buy GONE charcoal, we
will shut ourselves in the pleasant little
rooms with the flowers and the sunlight, and
die decently, making no trouble; but il
America it is not 80. Here 1t is rude and
outre. People will NEEDLE. You cannot
manage your small crapling Of life for your.
self. You must starve and beg-and steal,
il need be, but you must live. 1t is, there
fore, no fault of mine, monsieur, that III,
little Fi6ne is i'll and pining. cannot adj
vertise that l must nave her helped and
am poor | am poorl"
IL aaarnaJ ta ha n rat;af - NJ l.nt
that this well-kept secret was out ut last
Madam" sah the visitor, rising,
also am poor
Excuse me, I pray you" said Madam
her face paling suddenly ~ have ak
too much-it is weak. J ask your pardon
when shall we go-when shall we u
In the oountry?" asked Fiine, seeing /,
pause.
Thou canst not go alone, little one
said the mother, smiling, and rallying her
spirit.
She need not go alone, Madam" suy
gested Monsieur Jack, patting the child on
the head-"not if you will 90 with her."
All! what can poor people dor Was no,
Madam the wife of a professor, and was not
her pride great therefore, Could she go on
riding with an apple-vender2
when :" repeated the invalid, impera.
lively.
And the mother driven to a corner, nm.
swered, Tomorrow"
There was q little old woman in n yellow
gown stepping quickly about a farm house
Kitchen. The yellow gown was short, re.
:Haling her blue woollen hose and sturdg
shoes. She was making fine biscuit, he,
orisk horny hands molding them deity and
quickly. She has set out a round table with
u white cloth, taking down the shinirp
!,ShcS from the old fashioned dresser.
They will coon be here l think" sLr
says, ever and anon looking from the great
after the manner of old Dutch far,u.
houses.
She comes ut presently, smiling aid
cuur;esying to n party who drive up in a
nr',, little one-horse wagon. This is my
no her" says the young man who drives the
= 1ripage He lifts down Fifne he HELPS
NJ lam to alight.
. Fifine's little fnce is shining like that of
. chcrub new fledged in Paradise. She
kisses the little old mother, and they are
'ricnds Instantly.
The sun shines down Oh hedge and
meadow, the quaint old house, the quiet
p=chard. Blissful scents float on the air.
There is corn r~ustling on the sunny slopes.
lore are blackbeuies 10 the lane. The
whole air is hazily sleepy with its freight of
puI>hinc and sweetness.
After that rare, that delicious lunch in
he old kitchen, they went wandering about
he place to the old red barn, to the pas
'urc. where two cows stood patiently and
sap lily looking through the bars. "They
,r ,ane! " said Fiine, who had once been
a y menagerie. The little old mother