Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1889-05-29

the light fed rapidly, ana returned to
the dead cow. He touched her with
his hand assuring himself that she was
dead, and then returned to the house,
grumbling and scolding.
The hour for supper had arrived;
nobody prepared it for him; he found a
bowl and some vegetables IN a basket;
sitting on low bench, the basket be-
tween his knees, he commenced to pre-
pare his repast.
While slowly and awkwardly pairing
the potatoes he reflected on what had
passed.
With her small hands, and feet which
never found sabots small enough for
| them she was q paltry servant.
| What is necessary in household is
strong girl, with large hands and feet,
who would not bend under the weight
| of the milk cans. And then she had a
will, this Nellie One could not tell
how much without arguing with her.
If one spoke of her birth, she blushed
and her eyes famed like Goals. She
was not born to be a servant, for she
was not able to bear reproaches.
| Thus she has gone-God knows whe re!
Would it not have been better if she
had quietly prepared the soup, but she
al ways had a quick temper. Always ?.
No. When she was little, and I held
her on my knee, she called me "Papa
jacques" She had been very amiable
| then. When [ was sick she carried out
the doctors orders like little woman;
so we'll, that one day M. lie docteur him
self had caressed her head, saying that
it was she who had saved my life.
How old was she then? Perhaps Ii
or II years old 1t was then that
Jacques, having no relatives, thought of
| leaving his possessions to his little SER
want. But he said nothing to any one,
for one knows it brings i'll luck to make
a will, and Jacques did not wish to die
before his time.
| Was it after this illness that she
have been, for when the doctor praised
| her she was pale and thin. Fatigue,
without doubt, Tor she had sat up for
| many nights. Yes, she grew to be very
pretty; if the boys had taken notice of
| it, it would have annoyed jacques; but
the boys did not think of it, that was
understood An enfant trouvee,
toundling
She will never marry. for sure. Who
had come to court her? All, well, that
does not matter at present, as long as
she has gone-gone? Bah one says
one goes. but one returns for supper.
A few minutes passed. Jacques con-
| tinued to pare his potatoes, and natur-'
ally he pared enough for two; he was
sure Nellie would come back. When
he thought he had enough he listened,
thinking that be had heard the latch
move. But 40 one appeared.
"She is behind the door," said he to
himself "and fears to come in. Bah
one must have patience with the faults
of the young, and then she must be
cold"
He rose. closed his knife and put it in
his pocket-an old peasant habit-then
listened a moment.
"She will not come in by herself"
said he, II will open the door for her."
With as stealthy steps as his sabots
permitted he approached the door and
opened it. There was no one there.
He was startled as if he had seen an APP
partition; he was frightened. He went
out. His footprints coming from the
village were nearly covered with snow;
there were other traces there, but they
led to the village, not from it. They
were Melie's, recognizable by their
smallness, for since she had left no
| snow had fallen. They were clear and
deep, the heel hardly marked, like
| those of person who runs. The old
man rubbed his eyes and said aloud:
"She must be somewhere in the vii
lage."
He looked toward the houses but no
imprint was visible on that side. In
spite ofthis evidence, he said:
"It cannot be-"
The day had nearly disappeared, but
the gray sky, laden with snow, was not
yet dark. and the wilderness of the
| earth rendered the least sign visible
EOrOnffIno n ho Of ha
house, old Jacques followed the marks
of the little feet, bending low as one
who tries to find something.
Alter few yards the imprints took
| reasonable pace. Nellie had ceased to
| run, but she did not go very slowly
even then. One after the other the lit
tie footprints, formed by feet 80 little
made for supporting the heavy work of
the fields, had followed the way
through the snow to the town.
When he had gone kilometer,
flake ofsnow fell on his head and an
| other on his hand. Raising his head
and looking before him be called:
''PETITE p
It was thus he had fondly called her
when she was more toy than SER
| want; it was a term of affection which
she always responded with smile.
Petite p repeated the old man, and
then thought with confidence, "she will
understand at once that [ pardon her."
Nothing answered; he went on, follow
ing always the footsteps in the snow
which seemed to lead before him to an
unknown end. But the snow fell thick
er and faster, the sky became darker
and darker, the night had come,
the night,
| that was nothing, but the snow
| There are the footsteps, still plain,
| rapidly being covered by the fresh
snow; there was nothing now but lit
| tie dot.
| The old man walked quickly now,
bending nearly double in order to see
| better the almost effaced footsteps;
time after time he would stop and look
at the black sky and call softly, not
conidentially now but despairingly:
Petite ~
But nothing answered save the echo.
With a great effort, which made his
head ache, he followed the traces to the
main road, which he had left only two
hours ago. But there was nothing