Waterbury evening Democrat., 1889-02-28
BEBEE,,
 or, TWO LITTLE WOODEN SHOES.

Bebee smiled, reaching to spread out her linen. But she said nothing.
 "What good is it talking to theinT' she thought :'they do not know"
 Already the neighbors and friends of her infancy seemed So far, far away; creatures of distant world that she had long left; it was no use talking, .Aey never would under stand.
 Antoine should never have taught you your letters,n said Reine, groaning under the great blue shirts she was hanging on high among the leaves 1T told him so at the time said The child is good child, and spins, and sews, and sweeps, rare and fine for her age-why go and spoil hern But he was always headstrong. Not child of mine knows letter-the saints be praised! nor word of any tongue but our own good Elem ish. You should have been brought up the same You would have come to no trouble then."'
 II am in no trouble, dear Reinc," said Bebee scattering the potato peels to the clacking poultry, and she smiled into the face of the golden oxlips that nodded to her back again in sllnshiny sympathy.
 Not yet" said Reine, hanging her last shirt
 But Bebee was not hearing; she was call ing the chickens, and telling the oxlips how pretty they looked in the borders; and in her heart she was counting tho minutes till the old Dutch cuckoo clock at Mere krebs'-the only clock in the lane-shouid crow out the hour at which she went down to the city.
 She loved the hut, the birds, the flow CTS; but they were little to her now compared with the dark golden picturesque square, the changing crowds, the drowning roofs, the gray stones. and the delight of watching through the shifting colors and shadows of the throngs for oneface and one smile.
 ''He is sure to be there," she thought, and started half an hour earlier than was her won't She wanted to tell him all her rapture in the boolz-no one else could understand.
 But all the day through he never came.
 Bebee sat with a sick heart and a parched little throat, selling her flowers and straining her eyes through the turnult of the square.
 The whole day went by and there was no sign of him.
 The flowers had sold well: it was feast day; her pouch was full of pence-what was that to her?
 She went and prayed in the cathedral, but it seemed cold and dcsolate and empty; even the storied windows seemed dark.
 Perhaps he is gone out of the city," she thought; and a terror fell on her that fright ened her, it was unlike any fear that she had ever known-even the fear when she had seen death on old Antoines face had been nothing like this.
 Going home through the streets she passed the cafe of the Trois Freres that looks out on the trees of the park and that has flowers ill it's balconies, and pleasant windows that stand open to let the sounds of the soldiers music enter. She saw him in one of the win dows. There were amber and scarlet and black; silks and satins and velvets. There was a fan painted and jeweled There were women's faces. There was heap of purple fruit and glittering sweetmeats. He laughed there. His beautiful Murillo head was dark against the white and gold within
 Bebee looked up-paused a second-then went onward with thorn in her heart.
 He had not seen her.
 ''It is natural of corrsc-hc has his world --he does not think often of ne-there is no reason why he should be as good as he is,' she said to herself as she went slowly over the stones.
 She had tho dogs soul--only she did not know it.
 But tho tears fell down her cheeks, as she walked.
 Fasting, next day at sunrise sho confessed to Father Francis:
 II saw beautiful rich women, and I envied them; and l could not pray to Mary last night for thinking of them-for hated them so much.n
 But shc did not say: II hated them because they were with him"
 Out of tho purest littlc soul, love entering drives forth candor.
 That is not like you at all, Bebee," said the good old man, as shc knelt at his feet on the bricks of his lttlo bare study, where all tho books he ever spelt out were treatises on tho art of beo keeping.
 My dear, you never were covetous at all nor did you ever seem to care for the things of tho world. I wish Jehan had not given you those silver buckles; I think they have set your little soul on vanities." Ut is not the buckles; an not covetous, said Bcbee; and then her face grew warm Shc did not know why, and sho did not hear | tho rest of Father Francis admonitions.