The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1878-11-13
MISCELLANY.
LITTLE JOHNS LETTER.

One of the loveliest French poems of mod
ern times is called g La tottre an Bon Dfex ),
the letter to God. In all literature there is
nothing more simple, charming and touching
must be true, for man could never have in.
vented anything so sweet out of his own i'm.
agination. The pity was that it ever had to
be written down and printed. It is lovely in
print but, alb how wish could have seen
that baby letter, fresh from the warm concep.
ton of the child Sometimes dream of it
or, half sleeping and half waking, say it ov.
er to myself, and feel as if had been sooth-
ed by faint celestial sounds or watts of frap-
rant perfume.
Little John was six years old. There were
holes in the knees of his little troWsers. He
had long, white curls, so soft and bountiful
that they might have made curls enough for
the heads of two fine ladies' and he had a
pair of great blue wistful eyes that sometimes
smiled, though wet with childish tears. He
wore little shirt body, beautifully stitched
and fashioned, but hanging in rags a girls
worn gaiter on his right foot, and school
boys cast off shoe upon his left, both far too
big for him. Both let in water through large
holes and rips, and both were wrinkled at the
toes, because they were too long for the little
feet that wore them He was very cold and
very hungry, for it was winter evening and
he had had nothing to eat since noon the day
before. All at once poor little John made up
his mind to write letter to the Blessed Vir-
gin. don't know what you will think of it,
but Il tell tho tale as twas told to me-" But
use of pens and ink, propose to write his let
ter?
In that part of the city in which he lived
at the corner of a big street near qnay, be.
side the river, was little office belonging to
a "writer." Plenty of petitions to the Gov
eminent, plenty of memorials and recommen-
dations passed through this little counting
room. People always have business with the
Government, whether the executive by King,
Emperor or President. Above all, there was
plenty of business with the war offices. The
sons of Belona have plenty of wants and no
political preferences. The writer was a
cross old soldier--a good fellow, but he was
not by any means as well off as he should
have been, for it had been his misfortune not
to have been sufficiently hacked and mauled
to entitle him to place in the French sold
iers' asylum, the Palace of the Invalides.
His disappointment made him a little sour
sometimes. Johnnie saw him through the
dirty windows of his Office, smoking his pipe
and waiting for employment. He went in and
said
"Good evening, sir. want to write let.
ter"
g 1t will be ten CENTS" replied old Bouin
for the old fellow, whose share of glory was
perhaps one hundred thousandth part of that
of a Marshal of France, was called old Bouin.
John had no cap, and could not take it of
to make bow but he said with his best
manners, " Then can't have it. Excuse me
for troubling YOU"
He fumbled at the door TO get out, but old
Boun thought him pretty child and detain-
ed him.
" Was your father soldier, you nudge "
mas boy. There is only her and me at home !"
''Of course" said old Bouiu. 81 might
have known it And you haven't ten cents -
ooh, no haven't any cents at ALL"
Nor you mother? Well, might have
seen it. Is it letter about getting something
to eat, ell, little one ?"
Yes" answered John " that is just it,
Sc Come this way. Forward, march. A poor
fellow won't be much worse off for giving
away ten lines and a half sheet of paper"
Johnnie came forward. Old Bouin spread
out his paper, dipped his pen in ink, wrote in
his fine bold hand, Paris, January II, '57, y
and then In the next line, g To Monsieur"
Then he stopped. What's the name of your
gentleman, eh?"
g 1t isn't gentleman.
" Pshaw nonsense? It's a lady then"
Yes. No. SHE isn't lady. That isl
meaf-n
% Heavens and earth - cried Bouin
don't you know who you are going to write
to p"
i" Oh, yes, indeed, SIR" said the child,
Well. tell me, and make haste about It. Z
Little Johns face grew very red Thu
truth is. it is not agreeable to go to public
letter-writers for that kind of correspondence
But he rallied his courage aud replied,
wanted to send letter to the Blessed Vir-
gin.''
Old Bonin did not laugh. He put down hi
pen and took his pipe out of his mouth.
Midget he said very solemnly, g will
take it for granted you did not intend to pla.
a joke on an old fellow. You are too small TO
me to box your ears. By file left, march +
Take yourself off out of my room"
Little John did as he was bid, and ttirne,
UPON bis heels, / meap his own heels, Il;