The aegis & intelligencer. [volume] (Bel Air, Md.) 1864-1923, 1891-05-22
zMisCellanrnn5.
A Letter to the Blessed Virgin.
Translated from the French Of Paul Focal.
BY j. Il. T.

~ LGllGI " lIl0 OlSSSSu fIIRHl,
Translated. from the French Of Paul Feoa1.
BYJ.R.T.
| From the Churchman.
Jean was six years old. He had a pair of
trousers, ragged at both knees light curling
locks, so thick and so rich that they might
have dressed the heads of two fine ladies q
pair of large blue eyes that essayed occasion
ally to smile-but they had wept so much
A little vest, we'll cut but falling in pieces a
girls shoe on the right foot, mans on the
left both too large, too long, and alas too
full of holes, turned up at the toes in front.
and needless behind. Added to That, he was
cold and hungry, for it was winter, and he
had tasted from the night before until noon,
when it occurred to him 10 write a letter 10
the Blessed Virgin. How little Jean, who
knew no more how to write than TO read,
wrote his letter, remains to be told.
Over there, in Paris, in the quarter known
as Gros- Gallon, at the corner of an avenue,
and not far from the esplanade, was the shop
of public writer. The writer was a very
bad-tempered old man, honest, not bigoted-
ali, no! Not rich, and unfortunate, inasmuch
as he had not been sufficiently wounded to
obtain admission to the Hotel DIES Invalides
He was no more dangerous than that.
Jean saw him through the shop window
smoking his pipe and warming himself while
waiting for practice. He entered and said:
"Good-day, monsieur, have come to write a
letter"
1T is ten cents" replied Pere BONN, for
thus this 'brave" was called, to whom ap-
pertained, perhaps, the hundred thousandth
part of the glory of French marshal
Jean, being hatless, could not very well
raise his hat, but he replied, politely:
80. excuse me" and opened the door to 60
out; but Pere BONN was attracted, and said:
"Are you soldiers son, little fly ?"
NO." replied little Jean, II am mammals
son."
Good" said the writer land you have
not ten cents?"
30 no | have not even one cent"
"Nor your mother? But that is evident
Is it Letter 10 bring soup, eh, little one ?"
Yes, exactly"
"Come inl Ten lines and half sheet of
paper will not impoverish one"
Jean oSeyed. Papa BONN arranged his
paper, dipped his pen in the ink, and wrote {:
paris, Jan. II, 1857"
Then, beneath, on the next line:
ITO Monsieur"
"What is his name, 6e6e?"
Whose name?"
"Eh, 6ien Whose nameP Why, the
name of the monsieur who has the soup, of
course"
Jean understood this time and said:
at is not a monsieur"
"Ah, bah lady then ~
eyes, no, that is to say"
"Ah. this queer" cried papa Bouin you
do not know whom you want to write to 2
30, yes"
"Tell me, then, and hurry"
Lol -. Th4 fr,t \,
being that it is not easy to address ones self
to public letter-writers, for such correspon-
dences. But, taking his courage in both
hands, he said:
~ wish to send letter 10 the Blessed Vir-
GIN"
Papa BONN did not laugh. He put down
his pen, and took the pipe from his mouth.
Little fly" said he, severely, Il take it for
granted you are not hooking an old man
you are too small to be beaten-march to the
left, we shall see whether am right"
Little Jean obeyed, and turned his heels
chose of his feet, his shoes had none) But
finding him so tractable, papa BONN changed
his mind again, and scrutinized him well.
Thousand cannonsr ' growled he; call the
same there is great misery in this old Paris.
WHAT'S your name, be6e? 2"
"Jean."
"Jean what?"
Nothing but JEAN"
Papa BONN felt as if his eyes smarted, but
he raised his shoulders "What do you want
to say to the Blessed Virgin?"
II want to tell her that mamma has slept
since four o'clock yesterday, and that she
must waken her-if such things have been
given to her to do as for me, cannot"
The old soldiers heart fell ;be feared to
comprehend. Nevertheless, he pursued:
hat fhot uef
now?"
"Eh 6ien," replied the child 1--WE need it.
Before she went to sleep mamma gave me
the last bit of bread-and she, what had she
eaten? For two days she kept saying, Il am
not hungry"
what did you do when you tried to wax =
en- her ?"
"Eh bte,s, kissed her, as usual
"Was she breathing?"
| Jean smiled, and the smile made him very
beautiful.
81 do not know; does not one always
breathe?
| Papa BONN turned away /: great tears
were rolling down his cheeks. He did not
reply to the child's question, but said in a
voice that trembled slightly: when you
kissed her, did you notice anything?"
Eyes, she was cold. 1t is SO cold at home"
Sand she shivered did she not %
80, no o, no |! she was beautiful, beau
tiful. Her two hands, which did not move,
were crossed on her breast, and so white.
Her head had fallen back almost behind the
bolster, so that she appeared to be looking
to heaven between the closed lids"
Thought papa BONN: II have envied the
rich, who eat well, who drink well. n
And behold here is one dead from hunger !!
from hunger p
He called the child to him then, taking
him on his knees, he said gently:
"PetiOt, your letter is written, sent, recciv-
ed. Conduct me to your mother"
Fright willingly. But wherefore do you
weep?" demanded Jean, astonished.
II am not weeping" replied the old soldier,
huggng him to sutfocation, while believing
him with tears.
DO men cry?'
ut is you who are about to cry, little Jean,
poor little one . Do you know that
love you as my own son? 1t is stupid. \
1t is long time ago, to be sure, but once
also had mother. 1t seems as if saw her
now, beyond you on her bed, saying, as she
did in parting: "Bonin, be an honest man,
and good Christian The Virgin hung be-
tween the bed and the wall, a little image
! stamped on a two sous piece, which smiled
upon me and which loved, and which is be-
ginning to come back to my heart.
II have been an honest man, but for a
| good Christian-ddnle E'
He rose, always holding the child in his
arms, and pressed him to his heart adding, as
if speaking to some invisible person: There,
old mother-there-be content. Friends
may deride me, if they wish. Where you are,
thither wish to go, and thither will take
the petsot-poor angel-who never shall leave
me, because his little letter, which never was
written, has, nevertheless, given to him