The Portland daily press., 1893-01-07
THE MEDAL.

buo BuLbtT. linus tu0 St1cct udu Uocu
suddenly abandoned, and down the side
of the square in which stood one of the
largest shops. the small cab horses, mo-
tionless and glistening under the shower,
looked like the painted animals of toy
box. Nevertheless, the bus which runs
from the principal street to the Northern
railway station had just turned the cor
ner: the two dapple gray horses, giving
a good shake to their collars as they
trotted through the puddles Of water,
and like the platoons of Roman legion
sheltered by their shields. the passengers
came out from the waiting room and ad
vanced to besiege the heavy coach under
their rain drenched umbrellas.
Come on, the northP' shouted the
conductor. never suspecting the audac-
ity Of his ellipsis. "Only three places
left inside; one, two, three; no one an
swers: four. fve."
Here. four and fve," said sweet
voice from the depth Of the great white
cap of sister Of charity.
"Tickets."
And after having closed their ire
mendously large, old, blue cotton UNI
brellas-such umbrellas are never seen
anywhere nowadays except on the coun-
try roads-the two nuns climbed up into
the bus.
Zone more seat" called the conductor,
'hurry up, six"
And still another woman came out of
the crowd and gave her number-a
woman of the lower class, with her linen
cap. She was twenty five years old, and
was sheltering as well as she could under
an old torn sunshade little hollow eyed,
sickly looking boy, whom she carried on
her arm and who chung tightly about
her neck.
Come now, mamma" said the con-
ductor. rustling in his rubber coat,
that urchin is too old. You must buy
a ticket for him."
What. sir" quickly replied the wo-
man. seeking to retain her self posses
sion. The is three years and half"
And a little more; well, well, it is
very bad weather; climb up lively.
now"
The poor woman, with shame faced
air. took the only vacant seat, near the
bus door and opposite the two nuns,
placing her little boy on her knees, and
then. ''Ting-a-ling, ting-a-ling-a-ling,"
the full bus went jogging away with an
exasperating noise, just like iron bars
jolting over the pavements or like
cracking glass.
Although seated side by side and
dressed exactly alike the two sisters of
charity did not resemble each other.
The elder was perhaps fifty, with the
strong physique and ruddy color Of a
farmers wife. As soon as she had given
the conductor six great pennies wrapped
up in bit of paper lit was all the money
that the poor nuns had and the mother
superior had but just given it to them
as they were setting forth on an errand
to the hospital) the stouter sister in
countrified manner put her big basket
on her knees and crossed her hands upon
the handle. She was a true, good, reli-
gious woman, but woman who must
assume the lowliest duties and do the
hardest work.
Her companion, on the other hand.
was still quite young, possibly twenty
three or twenty-four years old, and her
whole appearance bore the strongest tes-
|hmony to her refined and aristocratic
origin: in word, she came of good
family. Only that soul painter, Philippe
de Champagne, would have had the
necessary genius capable of putting on
canvas that pale, distinguished looking
face, face already emaciated and with
two light shadows under it's great hazel
eyes. Worthy Of an archduchess were
those transparent hands with their taper
ing fingers, which the young sister of
charity supported upon her old horn
handled umbrella.
Meanwhile this woman Of the lower
class-oh, these worthy people, they are
like great children. full of confidence
and heedlessness; how excited they be-
come, how badly they are deceived by
false and foolish fattery, but then how
good natured they are!-this poor work
ling woman suddenly entered into con-
versation with the conductor, who was
"a little. lean, gray bearded old soldier,
wearing upon his vest the faded ribbon
of the Crimean medal, and who had
found time. while collecting the poor
Woman's fare. to bestow a smile and a
pheasant word or so upon her sickly boy.
Yes. it is true enough" she said; ''he
has been quite sick, poor little fellow,
and | have been to bring him away from
the hospital. where he has remained for
the last six weeks. He has still his little
ipapier mache image, for he went to the
Hospital of the Infant Jesus. The old
doctor, who speaks to you as if you were
q dog, bit has good heart all the same,
has just this minute said to me, six
months of cod liver oil and he will be
well Is it not SO, Popol? His name is
Leopold. And you will not make up
face when you have to take it, will you:
And you will swallow your cod liver oil
you know you promised mother you