The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1890-11-28

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for tnem:"
Yes, but love them so much. They
are so handsome, when have them all
there before me. l look at them with so
much pleasure! But | dare not touch
them because papa mas forbidden 1t.
Then when they are ali gone weep, for
| would like so much to have one all to
myself!'
"And have you not asked your father
for one?
Yes, but papa is poor and cannot az
ford it. He needs ali the money for us. J."
The little invalid looked at him with
gentle but astonished eye.
''Then one would make you very
happy" he asked.
"Oh, yes, indeed" sobbed Charles,
with a new flow of tears.
Then Castor reached him his toy.
Here, take mine! give 1t TO you,
and you can keep the twenty sous, too!"
Charles Froer feared he did not hear
aright-dared not believe his ears. New
ertheless he half reached out his hands
with curled fingers. wide open. sparkling
eyes, half smiling while hesitating to be-
heve in his happiness.
MAY l not give it to him, mamma:
Are you not willing"
Surely, my darlirgr' said the mother
in deep emotion, putting her hand in her
pocket, but suddenly withdrawing 1t she
murmured:
Perhaps his self denial will win him
more of heaven" and she disappeared in
the crowd with her physically deformed
but noble minded child.
Charles Froer returned to Acacia
street. His account was correct. For
his twenty cuirassiers he returned twenty
francs.
He hid his toy in his pocket. In the
evening he played with it; in the morn
ing also before starting out. He even
took it with him to the boulevard, fear
ing if he had it at home that his father
might find it and make him resell it.
This continued through all the cold
month of December, but the little street
vender was now merry, and his voice,
though still feeble, was no longer sad
when he cried:
"The cuirassiers, fine cuirassiers, for
twenty sous!'
Two months passed, in which Charles
had not seen the little invalid, but the
gift was daily JOY and reminder of the
giver.
One evening he heard his father say:
''Gaston Lembelly, the son of our
house owner, is very ILL.,"
Charles felt.a sharp pain in his heart,
and large tears filed his eyes. Two days
after his father again said:
'Gaston Lembelly, the son of the pro-
prietor, is dead"
Charles shut himself into the closet
where he slept In bed he drew the
sheet over his head and wept, hardly
knowing why. He dozed, but continued
to weep in his dreams
Two days more he saw the large door
of the house hung with black drapery,
bearing in silver the initials g. l..
On table at the entrance, beneath
the wreaths of flowers, and lighted by
wax candles, was a little casket, not lar
ger than would have been required for
child of years When it passed out
under the hangings many friends fol
lowedit. But far behind the procession,
more unkempt than usual, his hands still
deep in the pockets of his corduroys,
Charles Froer followed The sky was
covered with pail of dark gray, and at
times flakes Of half melted snow were
H. -. f inf ho
face and eyes.
Truly living in such time was not
cheerful; it was happy thing for little
CASTOR to go away to a country where
the children Of the rich who had been
good to those Of the poor here below
would meet and play and love each other,
and never know cold or want.
Charles did not dare enter the church,
but fingered in the vicinity until he
could join the procession in its slow
movement toward the cemetery of Mont
martre. He kept far away from every
one while the remains of his little bene-
factor We're being hid away forever.
He felt almost ashamed to be there, as
if it were a bad action, not having been
invited by any one. And he tTembled
for the safety Of his company of cuiras
siers which he dared to leave in charge
of a friendly comrade, unknown to his
father. that he might follow, even afaT
III the mourners' line, weeping for his
little friend He also avoided the keep
ers, fearing they might chase him away.
Men. women and the little children,
friends of the dead boy, passed back
through the gate. ani Castor was left
forever under the cold Of the wet earth.
1t was then that Charles timidly ap-
preached, looking behind him to see If
he was watched. No. he was entirely
alone. With care and tenderness ne
drew from his deep pocket the wooden
cuirassier.
His mother did not buy him another,
and there won't be any mp there per-
haps," he softly whispered to himself.
de considered the toy a minute.
touched the spring. and for the last time
the steed galloPed, the saber cut and
pierced and put in Hight the terrible but
invisible enemy.
Then he kissed the brave man on each
chsek, pressed him on his breast. kissed
him again and gently placed hin be
meath the lovely ana odorous wreaths-s
fitting grave for hero and steel. In leav-
ing the cemetery ne continued 70 turn
and throw kisses until the new made
grave had fad Il from his lght.-Naried
from the French Of Jules Mary by BaLy
Blake for Boston Budget.
Ra1eirh nrh -he Hrad.man