Los Angeles herald., 1890-11-10
gray scar on his troubled visage, extend
ing from his right eye to his left ear.
Between his sighs, in broken sentences,
he %x.aI - ox~r1o.x,.

he tried to explain:
Observation-Disclosures No
-one-has- hurt-me. No-I-am-not
crying - only - my-cuirassiers my
fine cuirassiersl"
Very well. Have you not been paid
for them?"
Eyes, but love them 30 much. They
are so handsome. when I have them all
there before me. l look at them with so
much pleasure! But l dare not touch
them because papa has forbidden it.
Then when they are all gone weep, for
would like so much to have one all to
myself"
"And have you not asked your father
for one?"
Eyes, but papa is poor and cannot af-
ford it. He needs all the money for us"
The little invalid looked at him with
gentle but astonished eye.
"Then one would make you very
happy" he asked.
"Oh, yes, indeedr' sobbed Charles,
with new flow of tears.
Then CASTOR reached him his toy.
"Here, take mine! l give it 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-
lieve in his happiness.
'May l not give it to him, mamma?
Are you not willing?"
Surely, my darling" said the mother
in deep emotion, putting her hand in her
pocket, but suddenly withdrawing it 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 sharp pain in his heart,
and large tears filled 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 a table at the entrance, beneath
the wreaths of flowers, and lighted by
wax candles, was little casket, not lar
ger than would have been required for
child of 5 years. When it passed out
under the hangings many friends fol
lowed it. 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
beaten by strong gusts of wind into the
face and eyes,
Truly living in such time was not
cheerful; it was happy thing for little
CASTOR to go away to 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 were 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 trembled
for the safety of his company of cuiras-
siers which he dared to leave in charge
of friendly comrade, unknown to his
father, that he might follow, even afar
in 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, and CASTOR was left
forever under the cold of the wet earth.
It was then that Charles timidly ap-
preached, looking behind hiE to see if
he was watched. No, he was entirely
alone. With care and tenderness he
drew from his deep pocket the wooden
cuirassier.
ellis mother did not buy him another,
and there won't be any up there per-
haps," he softly whispered to himself.
He considered the toy minute,
touched the spring, and for the last time
the steed galloped, the saber cut and
pierced and put in fight the terrible but
invisible enemy.
Then he kissed the brave man on each
cheek, pressed him on his breast, kissed