The morning call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1878-1895, 1891-08-02
REDEEMED BY A MOUSE.
The True Story Of Convict and the Pet That
lie Loved Very Dearly. {.

| Some years ago poet lived in Paris who
had kind heart and possessed considerable
| influence among rich and respectable people.
He was sitting one day at his desk writing
poem when his servant brought him let
ter from an old friend. asking him TO find
employment "for the bearer" The poet
told the servant to show the bearer into his
study. He was an elderly man, tall, stouty
built and scrupulously neat,l with full gray
beard, and he looked about 80.
My friend tells me" said the poet, THAT
you have lately been book-keeper with a
tradesman in the Rue ST. Denis?"
Yes, sir" was the answer.
"Why did you leave your situation ?"
| The man hesitated and then said with an
effort, 81 left it because of an unfortunate
discovery"
But" said the poet. what was the dis
coyery? l must know. because if | recon-
mend you to a place shall take certain
responsibility"
full in his face as if he had suddenly taken
resolution to speak frankly. II was in
that house six months and no zone had any
fault to find with me. when one day. they
heard of it-found out that-that had been
convict at the galleys.',
| "Ah, indeed! you were convict at the
| galieys, said the poet, in much the same
tone as ii lie had been saying: "Ah, indeed J
/ So you danced last night at court bal"
And how have You been living since you
| LETT your situation?"
ION a little money 1 saved when 1 was in
prison"
Il thought" said the poet, "that convicts
were forbidden to take money from visit
| ors."
$50 they are monsieur. But they all do
J it if they can get a chance. 1t seems no
| great harm 10 take it if we can do so with
out discovery"
How do you manage it?" persisted the
poet who was curious to learn something
! of a cOnvicIS experiences.
We had several ways" the man replied.
" Mine was not often used, but it always in
! terested visitors. Some of US used TO tame
| pet mice and teach them to bring US any
coin thrown down for us by visitor. We
| always kept these mice in our clothes,
| where they would nestle all day without
| stirring, and when a visitor dropped little
| coin Tor n prisoner the mouse, at faint
| chirrup from the master, would come out of
its hiding place, slip down the leg of his
| trouser, secure the coin and run back to its
masters breast the way it came
WHAT an ingenious trick! u said the poet,
much interested, but hardly able to belev e
the thing was true. 81 should like to see it
done" he added presently.
| You can, monsieur"
What! DO you carry any trained mice
| about you?"
"Only one. monsieur, but 1 never can
part from her. She is the only true friend
| l have left" he added sadly.
"Will you show me?''
| Certainly, monsieur. Please to throw
down cent-a cent, five cents-what you
| think proper"
The poet threw down cent piece, which
| rolled along the floor. The man gave n
slight chirrup with his lips and the sleeve on
his left arm was agitated. Then the mouse
came sliding down the leg of his pantaloons
and appeared moment later on the carpet.
But, to the great surprise of both men, il
stood still and seemed inclined to run back
| to its hiding place.
Its master, seeing its hesitation, chirruped
again more loudly. The mouse obeye1 The
coin bad rolled under piece of furniture in
| one corner of the study Just as the little
| mouse was about to pick it up a piteous
squeal was heard. Alas! the poets great
Angora cat had been lying asleep under the
| table.
When the convict saw what peril threat
ened his little friend he turned as pale as
| death and gave a cry or terror.
Poet and convict sprang at once to the res
cue. The cat was driven away, but not be-
fore he had seized the prey in his sharp
claws. The poor little mouse lay still with
a drop of blood like a shining oarbuncle on
its glossy breast.
Its master picked it up and held it for a
moment in his hands.
Then he laid it on the writing-table drew
himself up to his full height, doubled his
uSlo anu sprung upon the poet, VINO received
! his attack with great c0mpOsure, only saw
ing: Was II for murder you were sent to
prisonP"
AT these words the poor fellow recovered
himself.
Let us see, my poor friend" said the
poet, - If your poor little mouse IS certainly
dead"
l am sure that all who read this story and
who sympathiZe with the convict in his sor-
row for the injury to Is his only true friend -
viii hope the little mouse got well, though
| 1t Is hard to cure a wounded animal.
wish l could inform them, but | do not
! know. The story is a true one, and he from
whom had it could not tell. But this
| know, that the poet was ever after a true
| friend to its master, and got him a situation
| in bank, where he remained to this day an
honest man:-MRs. E. W. LATIMER in the
New York Herald.