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

and drew out bad number. This
morning [ was bent like an old man,
by a sleepless night, when 1 went to
the house we were enga ged in build
ing on the Boulevard Arago. How
ever distressed one is, one must work
all the same. Well, then, / climb up
aloft on the scaffold,-we had raised
the wall to the fourth story,-and l
begin to lay my blocks. All at once
/ feel a stroke on my shoulder. 1t is
Philippe. He worked now only when
the fancy took hlm, and had come to
do days work to get something to
drink, apparently. But the master,
who would incur a forfeit if he did
not finish the house by fixed day,
took the first corners.
1 had not seen Philippe for long
time, and could scarcely recognize
him. Burnt up by brandy, with his
beard quite gray, and with his trem-
bling hands, he was not an old man
but ruin.
WELL said 1, 'the boy has drawn
a bad number
sAnd then?' he replied, in hoarse
voice. and with an evil look, sare you
too, going to bore me with that, like
Catherine and Camille? The lad must
do like the Others. He will serve his
country. know what bothers them,
my wife and son. If [ were dead,
he would not 60. But, so much the
worse for them. | am still at my
post, and Camille is not widows
SON.
4 avadoU's son! All, Father, why
was he so unfortunate as 10 utter
those words? The evil thought came
to me at once, and never quilted me
all that morning, while | was work
ing side by side with that wretch.
I imagined that Catherine would suf-
fer when she had no longer her son to
support her and protect her, and
when she was left alone with that
wretched drunkard, who had become
a brute, wild beast, capable of any
thing. Eleven struck on a neighbor-
ing clock, and our mates went down
for breakfast We renamed the last,
Philippe and /, but as he was step
ping on to the ladder to descend in
his turn, what did he do but look at
me with a grin, aid say, with his
voice hoarse with cut-throat brandy
You see [ have my sea-legs still
Camille is long way off from being
widows son.
/ felt as if / had a rush of blood
and wrath to the brain. / seized
with both hands the rungs of the lad
der to which Philippe was clinging
crying, 'Help!' and with one shove
[ sent it tottling over.
He was killed on the spot, and peo.
pie thought it an accident. But Ca.
mile is a widows son, and will moi
need to 90 away.
This is what l have done, Father
and what 1 must tell to you and te
God. l repent my deed, and dc
most humbly ask pardon for it. Blu
l must not see Catherine in her black
dress, happy on her sons arm.
should be capable then of not regret
ting my crime. To avoid this 1 shall
emigrate to America. For penanc,
see, Father, the little gold cross
which Catherine refused when sh,
confessed to me that she was in low,
with Philippe. | have kept it alway
in memory of the only happy days
have had in my life. Take and sci
it. The money can 60 to the poor"
Did Jacques rise from his knee
absolved by Father Faber?
Certain it is, the old priest did no
sell the gold cross. He paid into th
church funds the price of it, and hun!
the trinket as an eG-UotO on the alta
of the Lady Chapel, where he Otter
goes 10 pray for the poor mason.
WINES IN THE WHITE HOUSE
Although not very fond Of socia
gatherings, the president is neverthe
less good host and connoisseur il
II