The Arkansaw traveler., 1884-11-15

 fnrsivenss; hsay May Aase nmy and she o1d wesnan m the b1nck hnn6b of her rosazy thneseA hsR fnGsra unr- muring hex prayerA
 We anived skossay afler q our dsseina- ton. the aseaies q . fr~ncA phoscerapher. with whom 1 vas sliehfly acquzinsed. introduced ny companion to him, and he, aiaer ofIering her seat, addressed some question to her about her picture She looked al hi.u with wonder, and finally replied that she oniy wanted . picture of her boy. sAh!n said the pho tographez, "a little boy, very good, womans black eye. and for asswer she point<d np ,o heaven. Oh! r ex- claimed my iriend, "dead do not Ike to photograph dead bodies; but stil as monsieur bruueh, you here will make an exception when did your litsle boy diey
 .when the grapes ripen he xill have been gone year. replied the grand mother.
 But my deay,' began the photo erapher, perplessd, when l interrupted him, and tAkibg him aside told hitn the old voman's story and how she had walked 6fty miles on her old legs to pro- cure likeness of her dead erand-child
 But, my dear fellow. what can do ? l am grieved, upon my word am ; but photograph angelss
 A noise of roGping children was now heard and two boys, about s and To years old, came running into the atelies. crying at the top of their voices -Oh, papa, voici."
 Hush, children 7 said the parent, 20 away: am busy" and the happy boys disappeared laughing in the nex: room. A sudden idea struck me, and turning to the old woman, who looked visifully at the door through which the boys escaped, asked her if she had kep, any of her little boys clothes. Indeed have, monsieur - she answered. have kept everything belonging to the little deAr.s and opening a bundle she carried with her, she continued: Here vhisper) the last ever saw hum wear"
 now took the photographer aside and made him acquainted with my plan fer phosographing angels and af,es ob- taining his promise of carrying out my instructions. persuaded the grand. mother to leave her grand-son's clothing in the aielier and follow me to an inn, where left her to the care of the buxem hoste1&
 Two days aifer the phc,ographer sent for her and on her arrival handed her a picture sf sight of which the old wcma an began crying freely. e.y sc. my o-n darling boy. IL IS Slothes l spun every thread of my and his pretty curly hair-but why uo he cover hIs face SO? Won't he look al me ' she asked suddenly. looking up from the ri1tuse that represented a littie boy kneelIng in chair with his folded hands before his face
 "Oa. remarked the photographer he is saying his prayers
 "Yes, yes, l know. he IS praying for his poor old grandmere. On. my dar- ling boy.' and the great tears rolled down her wrinkled cheeks. "Gsd and our lady bless you, mess,eurs '" sad she when she grew cAlmer. "l am nov going to pray by my boys grave until follow him ;' and refusing all aid for her uip home. but pressing her newly found treasure fast to her brave old heart, Grandmere Jeanreton Jeff us.
 As to the picture, the intelligent read CTS oi the Free Pyess have of course all guessed, that the photographer dressed his oldes, boy in the poor peasant boys clothes; and who would net prac- tice such deception to see the tears tha, rolled down Crandmere Jeanneson's aged cheeks.