The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1891-08-23
"Well, go on" said he. "dow do You
4 l. k.-g

"Well, go on" said he. "dow do you
call him, babyF
"Whop' demanded Jean.
"Pdrbleui the gentleman"
"W hat gentleman, monsieur"
"Tke one to make the soup come"
Jean this time compreheuded.
"But it isn't gentleman" said he.
"Ahl bah lady, then"
"Yes-no-thet is"
Name Of namesl midget ~ Pere BONN
cried; don't you know whom you are 60
ing to write letter tot"
'Oh. yes" said the child.
"Out with it, then, quick I can't wait
all dayl"
But little Jean stood all red and confused.
The fact is. it is not easy as it looks 10 ad-
dress ones self to public writer's for CORE
spoudences of this kind, but Jean was brave
and presently answered softly:
at is to the Holy Virgin that wish to
send letter."
Father BONN did not laugh-not at all.
he simply wiped and laid aside his pen and
took his pipe from his mouth.
"See you. midgetn said he severely, 81
don't want TO believe that You mock an old
man beside, you are too small for me to
trornce. Face about; march. Out you
goi'
Little Jean obeyed and wonderingly
turned heel, or foot rather, since heel he had
none; and, seeing him 80 submissive, Pere
Bonin second time reconsdered aud re-
garded him more closely.
Name of names" grumbled he, "but
there is misery in this Paris What do you
call yourself, babyw
jean"
"And what do you wish to say TO the
Holy Virginp
40 tell her that mammals been asleep
since o'clock yesterday and that can't
wake her up"
The heart of the old soldier suddenly
stood still. He feared to comprehend. He
demanded again.
''But that soup you spoke of awhile
ag .3I1.. 81, A., os;,a ..r .,o. bod D.
sneak of it. you see, because mamma before
going to sleep yesterday gave me the last
piecs of Bread"
"And what did she eat, pray"
Nothing for more than two days-she
always said size wasn't hungry"
"And you tried to wake her, say you
howf"
LAS l always do-kissing her."
ibid she breathe9"
Jean smiled, and that smile made him
beautiful
II don't know" said he. Don't we al
ways breathep
Pere BONN bad to hastily turn his head
LOT TWO Ulk OodIb HeEc uO"n uts
cheeks, and his reply to the child was another
question.
"Aud when you kissed her" said he, ''you
noticed nothing straugeP
Eyes, l did said Jean; show cold she
was; but Ethen it's always SO cold in our
house"
"She shivered, then, your mamma-shiv-
cred with the colds"
mo, she was just cold, but SO pretty. her
AZ hal Rar
ewes looked at the sky.n
"And wanted richest" Pere BONN muir
mured-"I who have enough to eat and
drink, when here is one that died of
hungerw
And drawing the child to him he took
him on his knee and softly began to talk to
him.
THY letter, my baby" said he, is writ
ten, sent and received. Now take me to thy
mother"
~, yes, will, but-but why do you cry?n
demanded Jean, assonished.
But l am not crying, Jeanne, men never
cryl It's you, my precious, who will soon do
that"
Then, straining him in bis arms and COW
ering him with kisses: ~, too, knowSyou,
little Jean, once had q mother, whom see
even now in her bed, 50 pale and white aud
saying to me, the image of the Virgin rest
est man alw avs and always Christianr An
honest man have been, but Chri3tian-
ah, daniel"
He sprang to his feot the child still Rugged
to his breast, and speaking as if to one in
visible:
but now, old mother, now, say, rest
thou in peace, for thou art going to have
thy way. Friends may laugh and jeer If
they will. but where thou art wish to go,
and there will be led to this precious angel
here, who shall never leave me again. His
letter, which was never even written, has
made double shot-it has given him
father and me a hearth
That 10 all this story without end is done.
/ know no more save that somewhere in
Paris to-day there is a man still young, a
writer also, but not as Pere BONN.
This man is a writer of eloquent things.
His friends still cali him JEAN as he
called himself, and, though 1 know not
either the name of the postman that carries
letters like these, they always reach their
destination.