The Portland daily press., 1891-03-27

uub tHo, SNOW never came
How white is the snow. napaY' the
child would ask, and Pierre wond take
asampie of cotton from the nocket. Oh
ms blouse, and, tearing it intosi ITS. scat
ter-1t In flakes abouthe head.
Winter than that" he would say
"hut we shall See, Petite"
whittier than this" Babette would
tell her, taking the frothy suds from her
tub and throwing it about the childf
mead In the air, whence it fell in Little
water bits upon the pavement.
Whittier than these" Pere Martin
would say, as he lifted her to his broad
shoulders and held her aloft till her face
was buried in the mass of orange bios
SONS above.
have-told you that Snow-white grew
and prospered, and SO she did, only ere
yet her eighth year was passed, when
the winter came on Pere. Martin felt<the
burden grow lighter as he lifted the
child to his shoulder, and Sieur Antoine
thought the little footsteps were less
brisk as she mounted the stairs to his
room.
"Our little one is not well, " said Marta
to Felice one day; ''she no longer likes
the candy; she no longer comes for her
bit in the morning."
And that night when Snow-white Law
asleep in her bed Felice knelt down be-
side her, and saw that the little face had
indeed grown paler, and the little form
thinner.
'sWhat if the good God should take
again the child he has lent us, PierreY'
she said despairingly, and together they
knelt beside the childs couch and
prayed. The next day the child could
not rise; she lay there growing weaker
and weaker, and fading away like the
roses in Pere Martins garden.
Gam L going to be baby again,
maman?' she would say sometimes. 81
cannot walk, and you have always to
lift me-"
What sad household it was when the
little ones step was heard no more on
the stair and her voice sounded no more
in the halls! AS the week passed on
Felice's song was hushed, and she went
out but seldom. Pierre's comrades no
ticed the poor fellows sadness and pitied
him. Babette would leave her tubs for
hours to'sit by the dear ones bed. Mar
ta's voice was heard less cheerily on the
street, and she found her way often to
the old cathedral, where she might say
prayer for Snow-white.
''This is strange winter" said Sieur
Antoine one night as he sat by the little
ones bed lingering his violin strings,
which were taut and dry with the cold.
'sWill it snowr said the child, looking
up eagerly.
81 remember, Pierre, the last time it
showed here. 1t has been eight years
ago, for the little one had not come to
us then. remember it looked still and
gray like this before the snow fell" said
Felice.
eyes, I remember" said Babette, "and
l would not cover my tubs, thinking to
catch the rain I thought was coming,
and the next morning were they not
beautiful"
"Ah, is it so beautiful, the snow?'
asked the child, lifting up her little hand
that had grown so white and thin, sand
shall ever see it?"
"Surely, surely" answered Pierre;
"God is good"
"Win you rot take your violin, Sieur
Antoine. and tell me how the snow
looks?', said Snow-white.
And Sieur Antoine played. Those
who knew felt the inaudible falling of
the fakes, thicker and thicker, butgent-
ly as the drawing of a shrond. Sieur
Antoine kept his eyes upon the little
face. and he saw her waiting. listening.
suddenly Jwang or the strings ana the
twist of his bow sent-out as ON the crisp
air the jingle-of sleigh bells, the sound
Of merry voices, and thechildas facewas
glad. But Sieur Antoine had forgotten;
with the sounds of gladness there,came
always for him the.aft& note of sorTow,
and he played on and on in the minor
chords till the tears stood in the little
ones ey~s, and Feliceput out herhand
to stay him.
All during the night that followed
there sounded in Snom-white's dreams
the merry ''snow music and then the
sorrow that came after it. ''Win it be
like that-and thaty' she asked herself.
Whileit was yet dark she heard below
inthe street the muffied rumble ola cart,
and the cartman was singing. What
wasit he said? As he came nearer she
heard in the mans deep voice, 'sWash
Me and Shall Be Winter Than Snow"
She knew not what the words meant
how could che? Rutcover and over again
she kept saying the words TO herself till
morning broke and daylight shone be-
tween the curtains, pale and strange.
Something, she knew not what, sent a
thrill through the little weak frame and
eagerly she peered across the room to
the streak of light that showed.
''Maman," she called by and by very
softly. But Felice was by her side in a
moment. She said nothing. but pointed
with one hand toward the window.
each, Pierre, Pierre, the snow, the
snowe' shouted Feiice, in herexcitement
forgetting the little sufferer ON the
couch, rho leant upon her elbow trying
to see the street below.
''Did 1 not sayr said Pierre, springing
to his feet. "Surely God is good"
Together they lifted the little ones bed
to the window that she might see, and
she, with full heart, could not speak for
joy; only her lips parted and-her eyes
overran with tears.
Marta and Babette were not long in
coming to see the little ones joy, and
Sieur Antoine too, only he did not tarry,
but.looked into thechiId's eyes and went
away to Pere Martin. They came to-
gether by and by, shaking the white
flakes from their coats and treading very
softly in the hall.
"See, the snow has come. father, )" said
Pierre, land she knew, the little one,
without seeing it, that it wasrcome."
The little eyes were bent only on the
window, where without the snow lay
white and soft DER street and housetop
far as the vision went, but the priest,
kneeling down beside the bed, took one
little cold hand in his, saying:
''She is very near to-God now; he told
her."
''The snow has come" said the child's
voice. 81 knew it would, God told me- )
Aye, God told her, and drew hei
nearer and nearer to him, for with he,
last breath the pale lips faltered out the
words she had not understood. "Wash
me and shall be whittier than snow"
The snow was soon gone and with il
the little one, but to the white vault that
bears her name come often Pierre and