Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1890-12-27
PIERRE PUJOL'S TURN OF LUCK.
A NEW YEARS STORY.
WRITTEN FOR THE EVENING STAR By
ADOLPHE BELOT.
fCopyrighted,l
CHAPTER !.


Il cember. In few days the bells would ring
out JOYOUS welcome to the new year. Never
had the streets Of Paris seemed SO bright and
lively. They were fairly choked with crowds
Of hght-hearted people, who. for the time be-
ing, had pushed self out of sight and were only
bent upon making others happy. In the shops
they elbowed each other furiously in their
eagerness to get the best and the prettiest for
those they loved, to cheer the old and to sur
prise the young. Nothing was too good for the
loved ones at home, nothing was too dear for
those who had the money TO spend and az these
crowds of chatting and laughing people brushed
by Pierre Puiol. he drew his thin coat closer
across his breast for his thoughts had suddenly
turned TO his two little daughters in that cold
and cherries attic, which served him as home,
and the keen air seemed to bite him most mer-
cilessly.
year ago Pujol had had q snug berth in q
banking house and his prospects in life left
nothing to be desired. His intelligence and
industry made him a great favorite with his
employers and he had gone to his comfortable
little home on the last day of the year with a
present of 100 francs in his pocket and a notice
of an increase of salary. His wife had met hm
a. the door and their tears of Joy had mingled.
while Julie and little Blanche had showered
kisses upon him as the beautiful presents we're
set before their wondering eyes.
Alas. what terrible changes since that day !,
The banli ing house had failed and R0t,l
although he had made most persistent efforts
to secure a new position. had been unable to 10
But. greatest blow of all. his beloved wife,
never very robust, had broken down under the
strain and faded out of life like q tender flower
Things had gone from bad to worse, and now,
the New Years day was coming around
again. Pierre Pujol found himself face to face
with bitter and remorseless poverty. He felt
like criminal as he crept back to his wretched
attic. for several times during the week he had
fonrd awaiting him scraps of bread and meat
which lie knew julie must have secured by
begging. The thought drove him almost TO
frenzy. and vet he dared not forbid her to ask
aims. for Blanche was such frail little creature
that even a fast OF twenty-four hours might be
fatal Pujol pushed the door open as softly rs
possible. for he hoped the children might be
asleep. but Julie heard him and called out:
How late You are tonight, papa. i waited
supper for You nearly ar hour"
At that word "scpper' Pujol felt his eyes FIJI
with tears. He glanced az the table and, sure
enough. there was 4 plate of bread and meat.
and beside it u cup Of some beverage or other.
luke, began the wretched man in low
whisper; but the little girl Of ten--a remark ably
WOlnitnlE cnllI lOr Ner yearS-antlCl-
Pa.eI what he was going to say and cut him
short with a mock earnest exclamation Of
Papa, Blanche has been very naughty tonight;
she won't go to sleep, although I've told her all
about the dolls in the shop windows"
At tnese words little Blance. whom her sister
Was holding upon her lap and coddling up TO
her child breast in such u sweet and loyable
manner that Pujors heart was deeply touched
by the sight. broke away from jules embrace
and fixing her wide-opened eyes on her father
cried out:
.-Oh. papa. Julie has told me all about them,
and want one for a New Years present"
''One what. my darling:" asked Pujol taking
the child III his arms and kissing her little
cheeks. now flushed with glow of excitement
Why. an unbreakable doll, papa. Julie
says |: II last till l get to be a big. big girl.
Won't it. Julie!''
Come here. YOU naughty child" said Julie
settling herself down again to the almost hope
less task of rocking her little sister to sleep.
and let poor hungry papa eat his supper in
peace. YOU bad. bad child.
"Cnbresksble doill'' murmured Pujol to
himself as he covered his face with his hands to
hide his tears. and then it occurred to him
tia. he had seen in the shop windows dolls 80
labelled for the first time this season. 1T is
doubtless some novelty to carry Joy to the
children's hearts. he added. but alas / fear
there IL be no JOY for me and mine this New
Year day. 1t cant last much longer must
get food for them or must give them up to
them up? oh, mercifuI heaven the thought
sets knife in my heart,' And the man
sobbed convulsiveiy rs the phantom Of separa-
ton rose before him.
Don't cry. papu," murmured a childs voice
softly and tenderly. 1t was julie and as she
laid her little face against her fathers and
wrapped her arms around his neck. she re-
peated In a tone sweet and trustful: Don't
cry. papa. shall have better luck next wear
! know we shall: And it will soon be New
Year s now. papa
..God grant it," exclaimed Pujol, as he
pressed that frail little figure to his breast.
But. ah. it seemed like hoping against hope
The following day brought forth nothing but
hours Pujol sat in the outer Offices Of bust
Eess houses only to be told in the end that
they had resolved to wait until after the OPEN
ing OF the year before they filled this or that
vacancy or took ON any new men. Utterly
worn out in and sick at heart Puiol sat
down on a bench in the Champs Elysees to rest
himself for few moments and to run over his
,ist of names in order to il he had been
everywhere Yes. the list had been exhausted
There was absolutely nothing more for him to
do but TO send his children 20 some charitable
institution and become beggar on the streets
1t was hard. terribly hard for him to make up
his mind TO give up the struggle, the more so
- he felt himself so willing and able to do his
bowed aside. he knew not why. No one wanted
hirn, no one was touched by his piteous tale of
suffering. no one was moved by the look Of an
guish which came from his terribly sad and
sunkeI eyes. Overcome by fatigue, Pufors
head fell backward and for an instant all his
troubles were forgotten. He slept.
''Poor man. how awful sad he looks" ex-
claimed childs voice. in a soft and sympa-
thetic tone.
Il mus: be dreaming, !" thought Puiol to him
self.
Come. come, Paular' cried another little
voice impatiently.
Pujol now reused himself to find Q beautiful
child richly clad in velvet and fur standing in
front Of him, with her large blue eyes fixed in
tently upon his face. A little further along
there were two other children. both Of them
older. The children were accompanied BY O
tall, &ristocratic-looking man. who had halted
and was waiting patiently for the one addressed
- Paula to catch up with him.
DO come on. Paula" again urged the same
voice. I'VE can wait for you forever
But the little angels heart had been touched,
and she was determined not to stir until she
had blessed Pierre Pujol.
please, Uncle Felix, she pleaded, "give the
poor man some money"
The tall gentleman smiled and thrusting his
hand into his pocket tossed q couple Of francs
into Pujors lap.
The bank clerk tried to speak, but the words
died away in his throat. and he could only sit
there and watch the three beautiful children az
they disappeared in the distance. Once OF