Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1892-10-08

wrinkled yellow face to comfort him.
Childhood is quick TO appreciate. But
we will hope il is not true, eh, Perez"
smiling brightly.
Next morning betimcs Pere wheeled
Christa to the apothecary's on Canal
street. DIR. Pilot was a good old soul
with kindest heart but an old-fashion-
ed skill. Pere lie Bonheur did not
know this. and it seemed wise to con-
iide his child to "a safe man who had
long experience" The CHEEKY doctor
made q Jest Of the examination o quiet
the fluttering baby heart. When il
was over he Sent his assistant to buy
some bonbons. while he kept the pref
ty n on his knee. tapping her mite
of a hand softly against his large
palm.
well. lie Bonheur." he said in his
big voice, "the case is hopeless!" Then
he explained the matter in Latin
words that no one understood. which:
made it all the more dreadful.
You mear?' asked the fearful old
clerk with a pleading look.
yes, that's about it! Your little
girl Will never take a stcp!'
The doctor confessed afterward that
lac had no idea young children COM
prehend so well. Poor bachelor, he
had none of his own 10 teach him bet
ter. At his words Christa's brown
eyes grew wide with tears and her lip
quiyered painfully. She held her arms
TO Pere. who gathered her TO his bosom,
his little dove with its broken wing,
aud went out of the apothecary's shop
with a sob in his throat. They had
forgotten the sugar plums.
After this the lameness was never
mentioned. Pere sometimes caught
her looking at the small neighbors who
ran in 20 play and felt his heart burst
ing at the wistful eyes. but she always
answered his touch upon her head
with a happy face. He took her for an
airing whenever he could spare time,
and she always shared his errands OF
kindness. One Sunday morning after
mass, when she was nearly eleven,
they went 10 the charity hospital with
a bag of fruit for a little girl who had
been run over by a milk cart.
The young surgeon in charge looked
earnestly at the winsome Christa in
her wheel chair and asked Pere:
Your little daughter has the hip
disease?"
Il do not know. monsieur" he re-
piled. Doctor Pilot tells me it cam
not be cured"
The proof of the pudding is in the
eating" smiled the young man softly,
at the mention of the old practitioners
name, "Let me come and see il there is
no remedy?"
Pere would be only too glad. And
the surgeon found a ease of c%ongenital
weakness of the ankles, which could
be assisted if not cured. But the pa
tient must 20 to New York. Pere de-
cided it should be. He scraped and
pinched for the money and it vas
now nearly a year since she had LETT
him. Christmas eve, her birthrignt,
had rolled around and she was away
from him the first time in her life.
This was why Pere had visited her
room and hung up her tiny stockings
in a feeble effort TO cheat himself into
something like the happiness of last
year. But he buried his face deeper
in the empty arms and moaned aloud.
The door opened suddenly and he
felt a pair of soft hands about his neck
and a little cheek pressed his, damp
with something not rain.
"Pere, Pere," fell the winesome voice
on his hungering heart. I'm come,
and I'm well and ! can walk like any
thing. See!'
But he would not lose his clasp about
her 10 enjoy even the miracle of the
cure Close in his arms, her yellow
ourls brushing his old wan face. she
talked and he listened. Now, indeed, it
was Christmas. Twelve o'clock. and
the child up yet! What would Ag,
alice say? A sudden thought struck
Perc.
my darling, can you walk TO the
churchra at the %corner?' He was halt
afraid of the impotence. I'VE will be
in time for the 'Agnus Del"
1t seemed 10 him some token be-
longed to Christ that very night.
Il a walk anywhere with my
BRACE" she declared proudly.
So they went. Kneeling with Christa
before the great marble altar, with its
candles all lighted and a tiny wax
Christus at its base, with the choir
singing GLORY to God in the Highest!
Peace on Earth, Good viii Toward
Mem" Pere knew a foretas.e of heaven.
He stretched out his hand, and laying
it on his Christ-child's head, whispered
in his simple old heart: AT twelve
years old they brought him to the tenn
pie"