The central Presbyterian. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1856-1908, 1878-02-20
.sAnd abe-wbat had she eaten 2"

"And she-wbat had she eaten p
"She had said for two days, am not
hungry"
What didst thou do when thou didst try
to wake her up"
ooh we'll, kissed her, as always do. ="
odd she breathe ?"
Jean smiled, and his smile made him look
so pretty. 81 don't know" replied he;
(" don't mothers always breathe p
Papa Bouin turned away his head, for two
large tears we're running down his cheeks
He did not answer the childs question, but
he said, in voice that trembled little:
"When thou didst kiss her, didst thou no
tice nothipg?"
eyes; she was cold, it is so cold at
hOme"
"And she shivered little, didn't she?
ooh no. She looked beautifully, beau
tifully. Her two hands, that did not move,
were crossed on her breast, and were so
white Aud her head was thrown back on
the pillow, 80 that through the opening in
her shut eyelids she seemed as if she was
looking up into heaven"
Papa Bouin thought to himself: I" have
envied the rich, who eat and drink as much
as I want; and here is one dead of hunger,
of hunger i" He called the child, who went
to him, and he put him on his knees and
said to him, gently: "Little one, thy letter
is written, and sent, and received. Take me
to thy mother"
"I will be very glad to do so. But why
are you crying?" Jean asked with astonish-
ment. III.
II am not crying" replied the old soldier,
who was smotheripg him with kisses and
covering him with tears. DO men ever
weepy But thou wilt cry, little Jean,
poor dear! Dost thou know l love thee as
though thou vert my own son ? 1t is fool
isb, perhaps, Bat, alb! I had mother
once, also; a long time ago, to be sure, but
/ seem to see her on her death-bed, where,
as she was leaving me, she said: 'Bouin, be
an honest man and o good Christian. There
was picture Of our Saviour hanging by the
side of her -bed-s little picture that only
cost two sous-which seemed to smile, and
which l loved, and whose memory has come
back to my heart again. And have been
an honest man, but as to a good Christian
ali! me-" Then he rose, still holding the
child in his arms and pressing him to his
heart, aud added, as though he were speak.
ing to some invisible person: " Behold, old
m0ther-behold and be happy. My friends
nay laugh at me if they like; but where
chou hast gone want to go too; and viii
take this little one, poor child, to you; and
he shall never leave me till then, because his
rascally little letter, which was not ever
written, has received two answers it has
given him father. and found for me 6
heart"
The poor woman, who had died from want
was never awakened on this earth. Who
was she? never knew, nor what had beer
the martyrdOm of her life.
But somewhere in Paris there is map
still young, who is an "editor," but not il
a cabin like Papa Bouin. He writes many
eloquent things, and you al know his name
But We will call him simply Jean, as in the
old days.
i Papa Bouin is now happy old man, al
ways honest, and moreover, a good Christian
i He takes great pride in the success of hi
$ little one," as he still sometimes calls hi
ilustrious adopted son, and he said, for i
was he who told me this little story: &C.
know not who is tho postman who delivers
those kind of letters but | know one thing
they always reach their address in heaven J
| Helen Stanley, IN BaldOin's Monthly.