The morning call., 1892-02-28
STORY OF HUMBLE HBROISM.
Francois Cope Tells Of ClGmGntinG'S De-
laTturG and Her Return.
A Supposed Widower ard His Little son-A
Sad Meeting at Child's Grave at the
Cemetery at Montparnasse.
sTeciaIfcr THE SUNDAY CAzL

In the hOuse-a great hive OF workmen OF
the Rue Delambre in which Tony RObec
had occupied room for six months past
everybody believed him wid0wer, not
long so, either, since his little boy, with
whom he lived alone-that little boy always
so well kept as if by mothers care-was
scarcely years old. Nevertheless, neither
the father nor the son wore Grape either on
the hat OF on the sleeve.
Very early every morning. Tony Robec,
who worked as a composition in printing
establishment of the QUARTER Latin, set out
with his little Adrien, still overcome with
sleep, on his shoulder, and left him in
school Of the vicinity.
He came there for him after the days
work was over, went, holding his little man
by the hand, to the butchers and fruiterers,
brought home in the chi!d's basket, as a good
housekeeper would have done, what was
required for dinner and shut himself up
until the following day.
The women with compassionate hearts
pitied this poor father-40 years old at most,
still fine man. though looking so sad with
his pale face, his black beard str eaked with
silver aud his golden eyes like those or q
lion in repose-and they said when his back
was turned:
That man ought to marry again. He is
a good fellow, never on a spree. Very sure
he could find a nice girl who would take
care of him and his boy. Have you noticed
how his little one is kept? Not hole or
spot to be seen. He's an orderly man-that
one learns at glance. And 1t seems that
he earns bis 10 francs a day"
His neighbors wanted To make his ac-
quaintance. Usually such a thing is not
difficult to DO in houses of the people where
lives with tla 60OT BUt IOnV
had a reserved air and polite way Of bow
ing to those whom he met on the staircase
which inundated.
Every Sunday. the father and son, as
clean as new sous, started eff for a walk
They had been met in the museums and at
the in-des-Plantes. They had also
been seen, before the dinneT-hour. in
small cafe of the quarter, where Tony al
lowed himself his only dissipation Of the
week and drank glass Of absnthe, llnger-
Ing over it and taking little sips, while
Adren, seated beside him on leather-cOY-
cred bench, looked at the Illustrated jour
mails.
PAINFUL SIGHT.
"No, mesdameS," said the concierge, who
was sentimental, TO the female neigh bOTs,
that widower viii not marry again. The
other Sunday passed him in a walk of the
MOntpaTnasse Cemetery. Without doubt
his wife is buried there. 1t was painful to
see him with his orphan at his side. He
must have adored his dead wife It's rare.
but there are people like him-peOple who
are inc0nsOlable"
Alasl yes. Tony Robec had tenderly
loved his wife and could not console him.
self for having lost her-Only he was not
wdOwer.
Oh! very simple and not at all gay was
his history.
A consc. entious workman, hut not wholly
fitted for his trade, he had not succeeded
1. l. 1r1
hood, and, for that reason, he had not
thought of marrying before he had passed 30.
He should have welded a vel-headed
girl, who had, like himself, known some
thing of poverty.
But love pays small heed to the fitness of
things! Tony lost his head before the pretty
face of a florist of 10, prudent yet without
doubt, but so frivolous, thinking only of
toilet. and knowing, besides, how to dress
herself like little princess with few rags.
He had some savings, enough 70 start
Housekeeping nicely, with a dressing bu-
reau-cCstng so francs at the FaubOuTg
Salnt-Antcine-in the mirror Of which his
wife could see herself from head to foot.
He married bis Clementlne and, at first,
things went on deliclOusly How they loved
each other! They had two chambers ON
the sixth floor on the Boulevard de Port
Royal, with bit OF balcony and the view Of
all Paris.
Every evening on quitting his printing
establishment. situated on the left bank OF
tile Seine, Tony RObec, his coat hiding his
wOrkman's jacket having the air of half-
gentleman, went TO the corner Of the Pont
des Saints Peres, there TO await his little
wife on her return from the Rue Saint
HOnOre, where her atelier was located.
IDEAL HAPPINESS.
Arm and arm and clinging to each other
they went very quickly TO their distant home
to make there gayly the preparations for the
evening.
But the Sundays, above all, were ex-
Quisite Never mind-they enjoyed them
selves too much indoors 10 60 out. Oh, the
nice breakfasts in the summer time, with
the window open upon the great city and
broad sky While he sipued his coffee and
smoked his cigar. Clementine watered the
flower boxes on the balcony. On, she was
too delicious! He arose and surprised her
with kiss on the neck.
stop now! How stupid you are!
But very soon an infant came to them,
their little Felix, whom they went TO see at
the nurses at Margency every fifteen DAYS.
II died of commissions at the end of wear.
They were speedily consoled by the birth
of Adrien, whom the mother insisted on
n0urishing She Quilted the atelier, took
work at home and earned less by.a halt;
however, she continued TO bedeck herself a
triie and PLAYED the lady at the LuXem-
hourg as she pushed her baby before her i'm.
little Oser Carriage; and it was in vain
that Tony t0iled like slave, setting type at
night on morning Dewspaper-the family
became embarrassed, got IN debt. Then,
the infant, weaned, began to grow, was sent
TO an asylum, and the mother, often unoc-
cupied and still coQUettSh, grew weary in
the house and acquired the dangerous habit
of ldling In the streets.
You can picture to yourself the poor hus-
band, old before his time, worn out with
care AID toll, and his giddy wife Of %, as
pretty as a Greuze masterpiece.
THE GIDDY WIFE'S ADIEU.
One evening. on coming home with his
son, whom he had taken from the asylum