Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1885-01-24

tGive my love to grandmother and tel
her-fatheTl mother / am coming
his hands grasp the vines tighter, he
raises himself TO a sitting posture the
moon coming from behind the clouds
shines on the vine leaves IN his curly
hair, q cry rises IN his throat: "FlVe IA
belle France F'-he sinks back. his eyes
closed, and the orphan boy is gone"
And II was meme alOne-WhO muir
! dered him, complained the grandmother
when she had concluded her tale. Her
! eyes were dry, but the muscles around
/ the corners Of her mouth worked con-
| vulsively, and there was a great sob in
i her throat. 1T was all my fault, the re-
suit Of my unforgiveness; holy Mary have
mercy" and the old woman runs the
black beads Of her rosary through her
/ fingers, murmuring her prayers.
We arrived shortly after at our desti-
nation, the atelier Of a French photo
grapher, with whom / was slightly ac-
! quinted. introduced my companion
| to him, and he, offering her a seat, ad-
dressed some question to her about her
picture. She looked at him with Won
der, and finally replied that she only
wanted a picture Of her boy. "Ahi" said
the photographer, ga little boy, very
good, where is he?'' A tear dimmed the
old woman's black eye, and for an an
answer she pointed up to Heaven. "Oh!"
exclaimed my friend, dead I do not
like to photograph dead bodies; but still,
as monsieur brought you here, / viii
make an exception; when did your little
boy die?"
when the grapes ripen he viii have
been gone year" replied the grand
mother.
But, my dear, began the photographer,
perplexed, when I interrupted him, and
taking him aside told him the old
WOman's story and how she had walked
fifty miles on her old legs to procure a
likeness of her dead grandchild.
But, my dear fellow, what can / do?
1 am grieved, upon my word I am; but
what would you have me do? 1 can't
photograph angels"
A nOice of romping children was now
heard and two boys, about eight and ten
years old, came running into the atelier,
crying at the top Of their voices: "Oh,
papa, VOici Z"
"Hush, childrenT p said the parent, Ego
away; 1 am busy" and the happy boys
disappeared laughing in the next room.
a sudden idea struck me, and turning
to the old woman, who looked Wistfully
at the door through which the boys es-
capped, asked her if she had kept any
Of the little boys clothes. Indeed I
have, MOnsieur!" she answered. 81
have kept everything belonging to the
little dear" and opening a bundle she
carried with her she continued: "Here
is his best dress and cher voice sunk to a
Whisper the last I ever saw him wear"
I now took the photographer aside and
made him acquitted with my plan for
'phOtgraphing angels" and after obtain
ing his promise to carry out my instruc-
tiOns. 1 persuaded the granmOther to
leave her grandsOn's clothing in the ate
lier and follow me to an inn, where I left
her to the care Of the buxOm hostess.
1.-TWO days after the photographer sent
for her, and on her arrival handed her a
picture, at sight of which the old woman
began crying freely. "My boy! my own
every thread of my mysel-and his
pretty curly hair-but why does he cover
his face sO2 Won't he look at me2" she
asked, suddenly, looking up from the
picture that represented a little boy
kneeling in a chair with his folded hands
before his face.
"Ohp remarked the photographer,
che is saying his prayers"
eyes, yes, L know he is praying for his
poor old grandmere. Oh, my darling
boy! !" and the great tears rolled down
her Wrinkled cheeks. "GOd and our
lady bless you, messieursl' said she,
when she grew calmer. 81 am now go
ing to pray by my boys grave until
follow him." and refusing all aid for her
trip home, but pressing her newly found
treasure fast to her brave old heart, |
'Grandmere JeannetOn" left US.
AS to the picture, the intelligent read /
ers of the Free Press have of course all
guessed that the photographer dressed
his Oldest boy in the poor peasant boys /
clothes; and who would not practice
such a deception to see the tears that
rolled down Grandmere JeannetOn's
aged cheeks.