Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1885-06-15

neither yes nor no. / knew right well
that she would not fling herself at me.
Still Catherine consulted her mother,
who looked at me as a steady work
man, good fellow, and the marriage
was arranged. All! | had some hap
py weeks. | saw tha. Catherine did
nothing more than merely take me;
that she was not drawn towards me
but as she had good heart, | hoped
some day to succeed in making her
love me.
Of course had told all this to Phil
ippe, whom / saw every day on the
scaffolding, and when Catherine was
engaged to me wished to make them
acquainted. You can guess what
followed. Philippe was handsome
man, very lively, very good-natured,
everything l was not, and without do |
ing it on purpose, quite innocently he |
made Catherine crazy for him. Cath
crime had frank, honest heart, and |
as soon as she knew her real feelings |
she told me all. But, all the same,
] shall never forget the moment. 1t
was her birthday, and to wish her
many happy returns, | had bought a
little gold cross and ribbon that I had
put in box with some cotton. We
were alone in the back shop, and she
had just brought me my soup. | drew
the box from my pocket, opened it,
and showed her the trinket. She
burst into tears.
Pardon me, jacques she said,
'and keep it for the girl you shall
marry-I-I can never become your
wife. I love another-I love Philip
pei :"
II was mortified, Father, deeply
mortified. But what could | do since
1 loved them both? Why, only what
thought their happiness, by heaven
get them married and as Philippe
had always given himself good time,
and was short of money, I lent them
my savings to buy furniture.
Then they married and all went we'll
at first, and they had little boy to
whom l stood godfather and named
Camille, after my mother. 1t was
soon after his birth that Philippe be-
gan to grow wrong. [ was deceived
in him; he was not fit for married
| life; he loved to amuse himself and
cut work. You live in poor dis
trict Of poor people, Father; you
must know by heart this sad story
the workman who slips, bit by bit,
into idleness and drunkenness, who
goes on spree for two OF three days,
who never brings back his weeks
wages, and never goes home but to
make scenes and beat his wife when
he is broken up by drink. Well, in
less than two years Philippe had be-
come one of these unlucky dogs. At
first | tried to talk to him, and some
times he blushed for his conduct and
strove to amend. But it did not last
long, and then my remonstrance end
ed in exasperating him; and when 1
went to his house, and he noticed the
sad looks ! cast on his room, the fur
njture of which had gone to the pawn
shop, and on Catherine, thin and pale
with sorrow, he became furious. One
day he had the audacity to show some
jealousy of his wife, who is as pure
as the Virgin Mary, and to remind
me that / once was in love with her,
and to accuse me of being so still,
and the like stupid nonsense which /
am ashamed to repeat. That day we
had very nearly come to blows. I
did my duty. gave up seeing Cath
crime and my god-child, and as to
Philippe, l only mot him by accident
when we were at work on the same
scaffold.
Only, you must understand, l had
too much affection for Catherine and
the little Camille to lose sight of them
altogether. On Saturday evenings,
when I knew that Philippe had gone
with his comrades to drink his wages,
1 used to prowl about the neighbor-
hood to meet the boy. | would
make him talk, and if they were suf-
fering at home, he did not return
empty handed, you know. l believe
that this wretch Philippe knew l as
sisted his wife and shut his eyes to
it, thinking it convenient.
/ cut my tale short for it is too dis
tressing. Years passed by, Philippe
meanwhile sinking deeper and deep
er into vice; but Catherine. whom |
aided as much as l could, brought
up her son, who is now fine lad of
twenty, good and brave as she. He
is not workingman. he is schol-
ar; he has learned to draw at the
night-schools, and is now with an
architect, where he gets good wages.
And now, although the house is still
saddened by the presence of the
drunkard, things are going better,
for Camille is very good to his moth
er, and for year or two when have
met Catherine-she is much changed,
poor woman-on the arm of her son
dressed like gentleman, the sight
has warmed my heart.
But yesterday, coming out of my
dining place, met Camille, and
shaking hands with him-oh ] he is
not proud, and never blushed at my
plaster-bespattered blouse-I saw