The Sunday herald and weekly national intelligencer., 1890-04-06
IN THE CONFESSIONAL.

From the French of Coppee by e. G. Waggener.
One evening Of the last winter the Able
Faber, the worthy cure of the old church OF
Saint Medard, Paris, struggled against the
furious blasts under spread umbrella and pain
fully fought his way along the Rue Mouffetard
on his road to the holy sanctuary. Very sure
in his own mind that he was uselessly disturb
ing himself on this stormy night, he was deeply
regretting the heap of blazing logs he had
quilted in his little lodging in the Rue Lho-
monde, also that Bollandist folio lying open
upon the table by the side of his horn-rimmed
spectacles.
But it was q Saturday evening, the day of all
days when the old widows and the workwomen
of his parish, who gained their living by clean
ing in the neighorhood or collecting their little
pensions, came to seek absolution from him in
order to commune on the morrow. He could
not, therefore, this honest priest, dispense with
the necessity that required him to install him
self in his oaken box and to open, like prompt
cashier, the wicket to his faithful flock. The
confessional, as every one knows, is kind of
Paradisaical savings bank for the weekly depos-
iting of venial sins.
The Able Faber was all the more averse to
going out on this special Saturday evening be-
cause it was the weekly payday of all the world,
and generally, at such times, the Rue Mouffe-
tard was an anti-hill of people, and of people
but i'll disposed to the priestly soutane. 1t was
good to be man of God, "a holy man. as his
parshioners called him, but the Able Faber
did not find it the less displeasng to lower his
eyes before painful sights or to have in his ears
the oaths and foul language caught in passing
There was, moreover, certain liquor shop
which the good Able particularly detested, a
shop all red and ahame with gas jets, sending
out hot and alcoholic odors through its open
door, and with row upon row of casks and bar
rels ornamented with placards, labeled CAB
sinthe," ''Bitters," ''Madera," ''Vermouth,'' -
eau de Vie" while upright before the counter
band of drinkers in cap and blouse saluted
him as he filed along the payments with a"Here!
Here Your Holiness /" distinctly offensive.
This evening" however, the bad weather had
made the streets deserted, and the Able arrived
at the threshold of the church without disturb
ance, dipped his fingers in the waiting benitier,
made the sign of the cross, and with a brief rev.
erence to the main altar turned his face in the
direction of the confessional.
No, it was not for nothing that he had come
out in the wind and rama pentent was there
before him.
visitor to the confessional of Saint Medard But
this time it was no illusion of the senses with the
worthy Able, he saw him plainly under the red
light of the lamp swinging from the nave of the
chapel, and still more clearly the short white
blouse and the nail-studded sandals of this
kneeling man.
Some workman doubtless, who had kept his
simple peasants faith and the proper habits OF
practical religion. Nevertheless, and of this
the Able Faber was very sure, the confession he
was going to hear would be like all the others
as commonplace as that of the cook Of the Rue
de la Monge, who accused herself of padding
the bottom of her baskets, but did not dream OF
restitution.
The priest even smiled little as he recalled
the usual formula of the young faubourgiennt
who came to demand billet of confession pre-
paratory to marriage on the morrow:
81 have not killed, have not stolen as fo
the rest, my Father, question me ~
Naturally the Able Father passed into his boz
with peaceful tranquility, and with no othe
emotion drew aside the little curtain of greer
serge that screened the wicket
an. lie Cure" began deep voice that sough
in vain to soften the harshness of its tone, IN
lie Cure"
al am no longer cure, my friend" mur
INJURED the Abbe In return, "begin with you
confteor and call me my Father"
The kneeling figure, whose face, bathed IL
shadow, the Able was unable to see, obeyed in
struetons, stumbled through the prayer whcl
he seemed to find difficulty in recalling, anC
then, after moments silence and as if strug
Cling with some strange emotion, commenced
his confession.
"Pardon me, NJ. lie Cure said he, ''my Father
should say, if do not speak as l should, bu
it is twenty years since last knet in the confes
sional. You know howit is with man in Pari
and who is not bad like the Others | told my
self that God knows all; l need not go, But to
day, tonight, NJ. lie Cure, have that upon m.
conscience too heavy to bear alone. l hay
come, then, to you-you must share it with me
this burden, for-I have killed a manp'
Killed man The Able started upon hi
stool. A murderer, this man before him The
there would be no more distractions Of mind fo
him during the coming self-unburdening N
more listening with dstrat ear to the FOOLS
babbling of old women, too Jealous in selfaccr